Radomir Damnjan represents the other component of subjective video art – that of a mediator in the artists' debate on the subject of politics–ideology–culture–art. This can be seen in his series of tapes, made in 1975 'Marx, Hegel and the Bible' (based on a performance carried out at Trigon ‘75 in Graz) and those he released in 1976: 'Reading the Same Text'; 'Reading Marx, Hegel and the Bible by Match-Light', 'A Speck in Space or the Position of the Individual in Society', and 'The Daily Ritual of Drinking Coffee' (Čitanje istog teksta; Čitanje Marxa, Hegela i Biblije pod svetlošću šibica; Mrlja u prostoru ili položaj jedinke u društvu; Svakodnevni ritual ispijanja kafe). The latter cycle was recorded in Tübingen and Milan.

The artists’ actions carried out outside the gallery space and those that were in the spirit of Body Art or Performance Art were sometimes video-recorded, with the initial aim of preserving in the ‘memory’ of art (that is to say, in art history). Owing to the compelling effect and the value of those actions, the tapes have meanwhile gained the character of first-rank achievements in early Yugoslav video production. Thus, in Julije Knifer's sole tape,' Working Process' (Radni proces, 1975), the artist himself documented executing and placing display a huge-sized canvas painting with his leitmotif of the meander, in a  at a quarry in the vicinity of Tübingen. Two outstanding artists who staged series of performances – Marina Abramović (while she lived in Yugoslavia, working individually) and Raša Todosijević – captured most of their shows on video, and some of these were actually conceived for video recording, in the first place. As for those by Marina Abramović, they include Rhythm 4 (Milan, 1973), Art Must Be Beautiful – Artist Must Be Beautiful (Copenhagen, 1975) and the cycle,' Liberation of the Voice – Liberation of the Memory – Liberation of the Body '( Oslobađanje glasa – Oslobađanje memorije – Oslobađanje tela), Belgrade 1975, Tübingen and Berlin 1976. As for Todosijević’s tapes, they include 'Drinking Water' (Pijenje vode, 1973), 'Who Profiteers on Art and Who Makes Honest Earnings' (Ko profitira od umetnosti a ko pošteno zarađuje, 1975), 'My Last Master-Piece' (Moje poslednje remek-delo, 1975) and The Memory of Raša Todosijević’s Art' (Sećanje na umetnost Raše Todosijevića, 1976), as well as a series, collectively titled Was ist Kunst? Finally, Zoran Popović video-recorded his performance, Axioms, during the participation of a group of Yugoslav artists in the 1973 Edinburgh Festival.

The dates of most of the above-mentioned works reveal that Yugoslavia saw the first expansion of video art in the period between 1973 and 1976, which means that it took place more or less concurrently with the spread of video, at a European and global level. The adherents of video art – artists, critics, managers – thought that a new age was opening for making art and integrating it with society. Despite the difficult conditions for recording and screening, artists sowed a persistent enthusiasm for the medium which Gillo Dorfles very aptly termed a kind of ‘neophites’ obsession' with the projected image. However, it was possible to see, as early on as in the mid-1970’s that the promises of a spiritual and moral renaissance – articulated along the line inaugurated by the events of 1968 and permeating one entire complex of The New Art – failed to find take root within a wider context and remained firmly anchored in the so-called art system which had resisted the first storm of disputes, survived the crisis and resumed its managerial role in artistic life. It turned out that video art had to pay the high price of being left to choose between marginalisation, on the one hand and the challenge (as yet, a practical impossibility) of being included in the powerful television networks, on the other. At the moment when Yugoslavia’s video production began to decline, and when the magazine, Spot, published the  first historical survey of the movement, the same issue of the same magazine published , a contribution by M. G. Bicocchi, Alberto Pirelli and Fulvio Salvadori  under the title of 'The Use and Abuse of Video-Tape in Europe: An Issue of Misunderstanding and Improvisation' (Upotreba i zloupotreba video-vrpce u Evropi – pitanje nesporazuma i improvizacije). Without resorting circumlocutions of any kind, this essay presented the full weight of controversy in this field, in a harsh light, but with honesty and accuracy, from a self-critical standpoint – the criticism coming from within, rather than outside video art – to the effect that this whole field found itself jammed 'between the system of art history on the one side and the official television on the other.' This resulted in a dualism that could not easily be resolved:

'Art video tapes are artworks and as such they should be included in the official structures in order to circulate art, but being at the same time products of communications technology they should be part of the dominant information system, and that is television.'

The conclusion inevitably read:

'That the showrooms in museums and galleries are too small for video art is a fact, as is also true, unfortunately, that television is not accessible at all, owing to the historical gap between art and the society.'

The consequences of the generally critical situation  so openly exposed in this essay were felt in the Yugoslav situation, as well: regardless of after the early difficulties that  artists had experienced with technical equipment, counterbalanced by the  opportunities they artists had discovered for creating new work,  many individuals lost their initial zeal, though others went on working and even managed to make some progress, in terms of both of their medium and of their artistic quality. Despite everything that has just been said, a revival took place towards the end of the 'seventies and in the early 'eighties, in the field of manual art disciplines (painting and drawing), which further coalesced with theories about the decline of the spirit of Modernism and avant-gardism, marked by an inclination to experiment with new techniques. And in the eyes of many, video again, quite unjustifiably, appeared at the opposite extreme, on the opposite side of the tracks, under the label of an ‘ex-phenomenon’. Yet one lesson to be learned in this turnaround seems to have been beneficial: it came to be understood that video was nothing more or less than a vehicle for the artists' intentions. As there is no hierarchy of the media in contemporary art, the mere use of video cannot guarantee an avant-garde result, and artists do not   require anything different from video than from other, more classic media – simply, an individual, and a distinctive, means of expression. However, the battle for the recognition of video, which lasted throughout the 1980’s, was by no means least. On the contrary, it began to yield the first fruits in spheres that went beyond the narrow confines of the artists themselves and their most loyal audiences. Owing to the efforts of a number of ground-breaking individuals, video began to occupy corners of the art school curriculum:  Bogdanka Poznanović introduced video courses at the Academy of Arts in Novi Sad, and her students’ output was shown at the Biennale des jeunes in Paris, in 1982; Čedomir Vasić fought for video to be introduced into the Academy in Belgrade, and so on. Previously active alternative exhibition spaces had survived, and some new ones also provided support to the new media. These included the Multimedia Centre in Zagreb and the Students’ Cultural Centre in Ljubljana, in addition to the Students’ Cultural Centre in Belgrade. The powerful TV network was finally compelled to give way and offered some air time to the programmes dealing with video art; then, in 1982, Nebojša Đukelić broadcast 'Moving Pictures'/Pokretne slike, while Dunja Blažević produced a programme about the relations between television and video, in 1983 (both at Belgrade TV). The climax of this incursion of video into the stronghold of television came with Ljubljana TV's broadcast, uncut, of Miha Vopotnik's graduation piece for his B.A. degree at the Academy of Art, in Ljubljana. A short while previously, this would have been unthinkable; symbolically, it marked an about-turn in attitudes towards the mass media, in comparison to the situation that had prevailed in the 1970s.

On second thoughts, this about-turn did not take place by chance. Like the whole of The New Art during the 'seventies, video art contained a subversive element that could be perceived as a threat to the existing hierarchies.  In its overall approach to the mass media, video often proved to be too hermetic; also, some of its ideological aspects were too explicit, and it was an illusion to think that they might be accepted by television, and the forces behind that. During the 1970’s, video art was kept inside galleries and museums, for those were isolated places, yet  protected artistic freedom of expression. An artist using video in those years presented his problems in a purely personal way (often with technical imperfections and a deliberate paucity of visual effects). That is how artists defended their personal dignity, as practitioners, yet then had to reckon with the resistance of the powerful television network, which adhered to its own technical requirements for quality of the Image, at the cost of a certain depersonalisation of its narrative aims.

 At the beginning of the 1980’s, a different social and spiritual climate prevailed, and art became different, too, with inevitable implications for the different language and status of video art. Those speaking or writing about a new age in video aesthetics have been right, although we might wish to questions the balance between gain and loss in the current situation [1984]. Several events in Yugoslavia were clear pointers to the changes, which were underway. First, there was 'Video Encounter' (Video-susret) in Belgrade, organised by the Student Cultural Centre in April 1983, when Ursula Wevers showed Gerry Schum’s tapes, Land Art and Identifications (dating from 1969-70). This was a symbolic homage to the historic period of artists' video; current video makers had drawn fresh Inspiration from a selection of new British video art, with its alluring symbiosis with rock music and an image deriving from cinematographic effects and electronic iconography. The next big event was the festival, Video C.D. ‘83, at the Cankarjev dom, the main arts centre in Ljubljana, in the first half of October 1983. Organized by Miha Vipotnik and Marie Claude Vogrič, this offered a truly panoramic view of current video developments, as well as providing production, professional seminars and other opportunities for exchanging experience. The participants included representatives of numerous TV- and video-centres, companies, specialists (directors, technicians), critics and editors of magazines, and – of course – artists from a number of European and non-European countries. It was not by chance that artists (in the sense of the 1970’s artists) came last on the list, for it seems that they had fallen into a minority within the context of the present revival of interest in video art, under the wing, and with the strong support, of institutions (both official TV and the TV/video equipment market). The adherents of the new wave of video art could not object to it – especially, since, in the 1980's, the moralistic overtones of much of the output of the previous decade had largely evaporated.  We only have to remind ourselves that the historic examples of the heroic age, such as Gerry Schum and  Art/Tapes 22, haves definitely been consigned to the past and start growing accustomed to all aspects of the new situation, both positive and negative. .

The current situation with Yugoslav video art is rather complex not only because of the prolix character of the output, but also owing to the recent, inevitable, demand for art critics to adopt a different approach to it. During the 'seventies, artists were almost the only people working with video, and that kind of art could be tackled by art critics (though whether or not they were capable of it was another Issue).  In the eighties, when the focus has shifted from artists’ video onto videos made by specialists (i.e. artists concentrating on this particular medium), new  medium-specific issues, of duration, montage, or, more generally, editing, and so on keep cropping up. They relate to new linguistic and technical issues and actually call for different criteria for analysis and evaluation.  The following dilemmas have arisen, for example: Can you view a video made outside the television studio (and often deliberately remaining outside it) to in the same light as work produced by those who are privileged enough to use the technical equipment of a television studio, yet who are often exposed to the danger of having their talents exploited by that selfsame studio? Can you   view works that reasonably defend the specificities of TV and video in the same light as those which, perfectly reasonably,   show a propensity for merging with other media (music, in particular, but also cartoons, posters, and pulp fiction)? Whichever the case, it is evident that a new notion of video has been creeping up on us in most recent years, and its protagonists are young artists, who use, and experience, this medium in a way which appreciably differs from that of their predecessors. The way they use, and feel, video has an almost physical impact on them, in much the same way as the kind of music with which they are familiar, and this fusion with other forms of mass media means that their work is often, understandably enough, outside the traditional art critic's area of professional competence, or calls for a redefinition of that competence.

The artists who had shouldered the burden of the initial historic development of video are now decreasing in number; some have become discouraged, and most of them are bereft of adequate technical facilities. However, they soldier on and take advantage of the invitations that come their way, to attend festivals abroad and record new tapes. Cases in point are N. Paripović (Work, Locarno, 1982), R. Damnjan ('Metaphysical Duchamp – Still Life'/Metafizički Duchamp – Mrtva priroda), N. and S. Dragan ('The Grand Finale'/Veliko finale, Rover/Blodnik), and one of the second-generation artists, Čedomir Vasić ('My Dearest…'/Predragi, predraga.., Ljubljana), at Video C.D. ‘83, in Ljubljana). These artists have still created their own 'ideas', and recorded them on video tapes, as had been the case in the ‘seventies; however, the character of their ideas has undergone a change: they have become ever more blatantly negative and metaphorical, in keeping with the general artistic atmosphere of the early 'eighties.

The switch from the 1970’s to the 1980’s was not only surmounted with ease by Sanja Iveković and Dalibor Martinis, but these artists found a way of developing their work in the altered climate –  whether in the individual tapes they have produced on their own, as in the case of  Iveković’s 'Conditioned Movements'/Uvjetovani pokreti  or Martinis' 'Image Is Virus', or their joint creations, such as  'No End' / Chanoyu, of 983. Using their well worked-out, medium-related culture as a basis, they have built in a symbolic dimension, in which they have intermingled their subjective moods with a critical take on the existential situation of contemporary civilisation. Today [1984], Iveković and Martinis, are the Yugoslav video artists with the highest international reputation: they receive invitations to many festivals and are constantly taken up with a range of professional obligations in the world of video art. Their attitude to video has a double connotation: on the one hand, they have felt a compulsive attraction to the properties of the medium, believing in the inexhaustible fascination of the electronic image; whilst, but on the other hand, they show their awareness of its dark side, expendability and transitoriness, as well as its aggressivity towards the viewer; that is why they endow their pieces with a touch of irony and provocation. Speaking about her attitude to video, Sanja Iveković emphasises that it is not video per se (its electronic aspect) that is of interest to her, but, first and foremost, the content she generates from the  contrapuntal play between real time and  media-specific time.

Marina Abramović achieves a comparable level of mastery in her latest tapes, since she started to work with the German artist, Ulay, and their joint piece, City of Angels, won the First Prize at the International Video Festival in Locarno, in 1983. Yet, for all the significance of this highly important artist's early work In Belgrade, from 1970 to 1975, her ties with the Yugoslav milieu have been relegated to the background ever since taking up permanent residence in The Netherlands. At quite the opposite extreme, a number of talented directors have emerged, in response to the stimulus provided by television, and it need to improve programmes. These young directors exploit a new visual sense, deriving from their own experience of video, but also owe something to the pioneering energy of those who grew up and matured at the same time as the medium, while it was still young and fresh. First and foremost, we should mention here the Belgrade video makers, Boris Miljković and Branimir Dimitrijević ('Rock’n’roller'/Rokenroler, 1980; 'The Russian Art Experiment'/Ruski umetnički eksperiment) and Stanko Crnobrnja ('Belgrade by Night'/Beograd noću, 1981), although they are not the only representatives of the current trend. This may be a question of attitude and opinion, but the contributions made by these well-trained professionals should, I believe,  be seen within the context of the innovations in language and repertory of the regular television network, rather than of the context of video, which had originally been launched as a kind of ‘personal television’ and is close to the status of art, by virtue of its subjective nature and enjoys an essentially different status from that enjoyed by the powerful institution of television in contemporary society.

Without the kind of advanced electronic technology that is only available in professional television studios or specialist video centres, one cannot now venture into experimenting with the restructuring and decomposition of the image, or with developing its fresh and authentic electronic visual quality, based on the dynamics of forms and active role of colours. In Yugoslavia, the most thoroughgoing experimentation in this area is being carried out by the country's sole video artist with a professional training, Miha Vipotnik, though Vipotnik's total dedication to this single medium is not necessarily a guarantee of success, in practical terms.

The next example of video’s expansion in the period 1981-83 comes from the ŠKUC-Forum in Ljubljana, headed by Dušan Mandić, where it forms a part of the young people’s subculture 'scene', along with rock and punk music, a student press, graffiti, alternative fashion and, generally, a pattern of expression and behaviour that is practised by a generation conscious of its own affinities and needs, and strongly opposed to the prevailing climate of opinion. The video output of the groups, Meje kontrole Št. 4, FV-video, Laibachkunst, Borghesia and the artist, Marjan Osole Maks, conforms to this general tendency to withdraw into the  setting and mentality of the underground: the poor quality of the images and deficiencies in the recording technique mean that this work does not seek comparison with the visual affluence of the  professional network, with high production values, yet it picks its subjects with great care and  great awareness, with an eye for whatever seems provocative. First, there are scenes of 'unnatural sex', bordering on, or even venturing into, pornography, in response to outside pressures to conform to a kind of 'exemplary normality'.  This kind of video tends to play a role that had not been seen before in a Yugoslav context, but which, for all its aesthetic shortcomings provided an alternative outlet for certain feelings and views.

Within the latest wave of video artists, there have been a number of individuals and groups who insist on placing their own stamp on the videos they make.   Tomislav Mikulić and Ivo Deković (the latter, having studied with Nam June Paik, in Düsseldorf) represent the experimental line which has focused on producing and elaborating images created with the aid of computer animation. The Belgrade group, Opus 4 (Miša Savić, Miodrag Lazarov Pashu, Vladimir Tošić, Milimir Drašković) mostly deals with new minimalist music and musical performances, using video as a part of their exploration of the reciprocal impact of image and sound. Nebojša Ružić and Mihailo Ristić have come to notice after their experience with 'Video, Film, Audio and the Ego Making Love with One Another'/Video, film, audio i ego vode ljubav jedni s drugima, 1983. Those currently beginning to work with video include Mihajlo Alić, Viktorija Vesna Bulajić, De Stil Marković, Lina Busov, and the artists' duo, V. Cvetkov & B. Štukelj. Many others, who are attracted to the new electronic visuality of video, make intermittent appearances, and together they form the broad base of enthusiasts which is indispensable indispensable to developing a contemporary culture of the medium.

We have thus arrived at the end of one possible survey of developments in the field of video art in Yugoslavia. It has to be said at this point it is too soon to reach any firm conclusions, from a preliminary survey of this medium. For it is well known that the technology behind this new medium is certain to make further advance, so we may anticipate fresh developments in both the medium itself and in the related technology – in  Yugoslavia, like everywhere else. Everything that has been discussed above already belongs to a past which reaches back no farther than ten years, or so. And yet, this brief history has featured many events, a great number of people, and a quantity of mutually incompatible concepts and Ideas. One thing may be taken as certain, though: this story is to be continued, and it may well end up taking on a very different perspective, even from the vantage point of today. Yet, however the  story comes to be told, we should not overlook one essential feature, which deserves to be underlined – namely, that the destiny of video is  proof, in itself,  that the different media  invariably  change, extend and improve, but are intrinsically incapable, on their own, of replacing the  power of the spirit and the capacity of imagination.

Yugoslavia was one of many European countries that move or less consciously  accepted the need to  get to rise to the challenge of the new  communications technologies and to get to grips with television, in particular, as a key factor in shaping the contemporary 'civilisation of the image'.