Ar(n)t Write
Ar(n)t Write is an artist-run platform for artists to share writings about other artists. The aim of the platform is to reinforce artistic communities and encourage a variety of writing approaches about art. I would like to thank everyone who has submited their writings for this issue! If any of the readers want to share their writings or further investigate our platform, please visit our website or instagram page.
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Featured writings in order of appearance: Courtney Miller -> Justine Woods Leah McInnis -> Kai Choufour
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Dear Justine, Since you taught me my first beading stitches last year over Zoom, I’ve been thinking about different kinds of gestures to express my gratitude. As I fumbled my way through learning the single needle flat stitch, you invited me to join your virtual Beading Circle. It was the first year of the pandemic, and I was feeling the need for social connection as a recent MFA grad in isolation. The biweekly sessions provided me with the opportunity to gather safely with beaders and learn a new skill. The Beading Circle has been an important social space for many people. In some of the sessions I joined online, there were upwards of 40 participants all beading together. I noticed that some beaders attend to learn new techniques from the guest artists, while others enjoy working on their personal projects and chatting. Everyone in this circle is so generous with their knowledge and skill-sharing. As an attentive host, it’s clear to see that the participants and guests feel at ease in the space you create.
Talk soon! Courtney
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While the time difference between BC and Ontario sometimes prevents me from attending more Beading Circle sessions, I will pop in when I can. I’m looking forward to hearing about your upcoming projects as you embark on your PhD!
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I remember when you came to visit my curatorial MFA thesis exhibition, a couple days before OCAD shut down due to the pandemic. You were completing the first year of your MDes, and I asked you about your plans for your thesis project. One of your ideas was to make a pair of beaded gauntlets. This year, it was wonderful to see those gauntlets come to life as part of a small clothing collection in your thesis, “I love you as much as all the beads in the universe: a garment-based inquiry into re-stitching alternative worlds of love”. As someone who once wanted to study fashion, I can see the attention to detail in each garment as both functional and ornate. Most importantly, however, I can see the love stitched into the fabric, knowing that the garments were made and worn with your family.
Leah McInni Kai Chouf o ur Le a h Mc I n ni s Kai Chouf o ur Le a h Mc I n ni s Kai Chouf o ur
Leah McInnis
Kai Choufour
Leah McInnis
Kai Choufour
Leah McInnis
Kai Choufour
I’ve been trying to understand you since I met you on the street 8 years ago smoking a cigarette under a shrub. I followed you into a basement and watched dust twinkle sprinkle in sunbeams as you pulled out delicate scraps of paper covered in coloured tape and called them paintings. Have you ever read The Idiot by Dostoevsky? No? Have you ever seen Pierrot le Fou? I only ask because it reminds me of you. You showed me a thrift store doll painted black with its head sewn on upside down with a tiny red LED in it’s mouth that only worked when you gave it a hug. Moving through the city like something I read when I was 16, showing truths and enacting myths. One leg bent against the brick wall at 4am. Floating through back doors, a string tied around your neck. If someone had a headache at the after hours club I’d bring them to you and nod assuringly as you placed a hand on their head. Can you believe it? I walked to work and saw my name spray painted on the side of Toys-R-Us surrounded by hearts. I walked down the hill and saw a row of pink animals on the back of an apartment building. Elephant dog snake whale. Dog. Everything is a creature. Everything has two eyes.
Swept away in a wave of your own creation. Pebbles are just models for skyscrapers. If it can be made, it can be made with plant matter and eaten over the sink. The only film you recommend is Lovers on the Bridge. I watched you give a speech wearing your father’s oversized tweed blazer, balancing on crutches. Stakeholders looked on as your hands shook a piece of paper. A motorcycle passed by drowning out your poem. Years later, we returned to your sculpture and there were signs advertising Super Cuts stuck in the native plant garden you built. You laughed while taking pictures saying “look at my new sponsor.” You tattooed a diamond on my leg the third day I knew you. Everything is precious and your hands always shake. Laying on concrete with tweezers helping a spider off a piece of tape. Everything is big and important because you say it is. Outside the outside. 5 days to install and 5 minutes to the dumpster behind the gallery. I want to say I remember it all. The things you remember are: the plant grew under the door. A child wanted to touch it. Your friend slept on your gallery floor for a week.
You dragged a broken christmas tree through the streets and placed it in your exhibition in the middle of July. Every year you plan a birthday party for yourself that never happens. You peel stamps off envelopes from my mother and put them on the fridge. You spent an entire day painting a 5mm moonshiner. You build exotic sports cars out of cardboard. You give everything away for free.
Courtney Miller @courtneygeorgia Justine Woods https://www.justinewoods.com/
Leah McInnis https://www. leahmcinnis.com Kai Choufour https://www. kaichoufour.com
Issue 2