A Critical Analysis of Map of Care by Savina Ražnatović

Detail of the project "Map of Care" by Savina Ražnatović

As inequalities deepen and public support systems erode, care has increasingly become a form of resistance, not by choice but as a necessary response to systemic neglect. As argued in The Care Manifesto by The Care Collective, neoliberalism prioritizes profit, competition, and individualism over collective well-being, systematically devaluing care. This shift has led to the widespread defunding and privatization of healthcare, education, and social services, forcing care into the realm of political struggle. When governments withdraw from their responsibilities, care is no longer an assumed social function but an act of defiance.

This is evident in the student protests in Serbia, where acts of solidarity sustain demonstrators in their fight for justice. These moments reveal care not as a passive or apolitical act but as a force of resistance that challenges systems of control. Engaging with these realities, Map of Care envisions an alternative governance model rooted in care rather than coercion. By actively involving participants, the work critiques neoliberal policies while fostering a participatory process that reimagines care as a foundation for political transformation.

This work critically examines how neoliberalism has dismantled care as a shared social responsibility. As outlined in The Care Manifesto, neoliberal governance prioritizes market-driven interests over collective well-being, resulting in the erosion of public institutions and the privatization of essential services. Consequently, care has become precarious—either relegated to unpaid labor disproportionately shouldered by women and marginalized communities or commodified and available only to those who can afford it. Neoliberalism reframes care as an individual burden rather than a shared duty, leaving the most vulnerable to systemic neglect.

In response, the piece reclaims care as a radical political act that belongs in the public sphere rather than being confined to private or domestic labor. Instead of treating care as secondary or invisible, it positions it as central, advocating for governance built on solidarity rather than control. Through participatory engagement, the work does not simply represent an idea but actively involves people in reimagining care-based systems.

Judith Butler, in Precarious Life, argues that vulnerability and interdependence are not weaknesses but fundamental aspects of the human condition. Neoliberalism obscures these realities by legitimizing policies that fragment communities and promote self-sufficiency over collective care. Silvia Federici expands on this critique, showing how capitalism sustains itself by exploiting unpaid care labor, primarily from women, while rendering it invisible. This work challenges these frameworks by reclaiming care as a political force and reimagining governance as shared responsibility rather than control.

Federici’s Caliban and the Witch reinforces this critique by tracing how capitalism has historically devalued reproductive and care labor, embedding exploitation into economic structures. By centering care as the foundation of governance, the piece actively resists this erasure and reclaims care as a visible and essential societal structure.

Across the globe, neoliberal policies have systematically dismantled public healthcare, education, and welfare, shifting the burden of care from the state to individuals. This trend, visible in both Serbia and the United States, underscores why Map of Care visualizes an alternative model: one where governance is rooted in collective care rather than privatized neglect. To fully understand the impact of this work, it is essential to place it within the broader context of neoliberalism’s systematic erosion of care infrastructures. As public healthcare, education, and social welfare systems are defunded and privatized, individuals are increasingly forced to secure their own well-being without adequate state support. In response, the artwork imagines governance through collective care rather than market-driven neglect.

Rather than allowing governance to remain an abstract or top-down concept, this work provides a space where participants can articulate their needs and make them visible within a collective framework. The speculative map, created by the artist, serves as a foundation for this process, allowing individuals to contribute their lived experiences and perspectives. In doing so, the work challenges neoliberal notions of isolated self-sufficiency by demonstrating that governance should be informed by the voices of those it affects. Participation is not about altering the map itself but about revealing the urgency of care as a political force, highlighting the ways in which existing systems fail to address basic human needs.

Beyond its theoretical and political implications, Map of Care is distinguished by its aesthetic and material choices. The work adopts a handmade, DIY approach, incorporating thread, paper, and handwritten notes. This aligns with the principles of arte povera, a movement that rejected artistic grandeur in favor of raw, direct expressions of social and political critique.

The use of everyday materials also echoes the aesthetics of protest. During the Belgrade student demonstrations, hand-drawn signs and makeshift banners—created with whatever materials were available—became powerful symbols of resistance. These objects prioritized urgency and message over formal presentation. This project mirrors this approach, embracing an aesthetic of immediacy and accessibility rather than polished institutional refinement. This choice reinforces a core message of the work: care is not dependent on elaborate systems or resources but on collective commitment and participation.

"A participant engages with Map of Care, a participatory art project by Ražnatović at KC Grad, Gradska Galerija (Belgrade, 2025)

The installation further emphasizes care as a living, evolving practice through its participatory elements. Stepping into the space, a visitor is met with a suspended hoop and a tangle of colored threads. Choosing a thread—perhaps yellow for solidarity or blue for empathy—they tie it onto the hoop, marking a need, a demand, or a hope. In this small act, they are not just observing governance, but actively shaping it. This simple yet meaningful gesture materializes the web of dependencies that sustain human life, highlighting how care accumulates and takes shape through collective action.

Rather than simply asking whether participatory art can enact real political change, it is more productive to speculate: What if this model was taken seriously as a model for governance? What would it mean for political structures to prioritize care in the way they currently prioritize control?

If we consider Map of Care not as a metaphor but as a blueprint, its implications become profound. Governance based on care would necessitate radical shifts in policy, economy, and social organization. Public health, education, and labor rights would be prioritized over profit motives. Social welfare would be framed not as charity but as a fundamental right. The very definition of power would shift from one of domination to one of responsibility.

Of course, the challenges of realizing such a vision are immense. Participatory art, for all its strengths, often remains confined within institutional spaces rather than translating into policy. Claire Bishop, in Artificial Hells (2012), critiques participatory art for creating the illusion of activism without real structural change. Yet, the artwork resists this by grounding itself in real-world struggles. It does not merely depict care; it demands it.

The Belgrade protests demonstrated that acts of care—from providing food to ensuring physical safety—are inherently political. In this context, the project serves not just as an artwork but as a tool for imagining and enacting alternative futures. It suggests that governance should not be about maintaining order through fear but about sustaining life through solidarity.

In a world where care is increasingly privatized and commodified, Map of Care is both a critique and a call to action. It challenges audiences to recognize that care is not a secondary concern but the foundation upon which societies should be built. By creating a participatory space where individuals can contribute to a shared vision of governance, Ražnatović transforms art from a passive object into an active proposition.

Whether or not the project influences governance structures directly, its significance lies in its ability to reframe the discourse. It asserts that care is not weakness, that interdependence is not failure, and that governance should not be about exerting control but about fostering collective well-being. As authoritarianism spreads, this message is not just urgent—it is a demand for a different future.