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Visual Artists’ News Sheet | July – August 2024
Columns
Art Work
Curatorial
A Question of Pace
Curatorial Exchange
FOR HER THIRD COLUMN IN THE SERIES LIAN BELL REFLECTS ON SETTING THE PACE OF WORK AS AN ARTS FREELANCER.
MARK O’GORMAN DISCUSSES HIS PARTICIPATION IN CURATORIAL EXCHANGE AS PART OF EXPO CHICAGO IN APRIL.
HAVING SPENT YEARS making and watch-
I WALKED OUTSIDE The Complex Gallery
ing live performance, I am attuned to how pace functions within the work; I’m now learning to notice how it shapes a working practice itself. The topic of pace recurs in recent conversations, often in relation to my decision to prioritise travelling without flying. It also arises when I’m coaching, particularly with people at risk of burnout. And these days, being a body with 46 years on the clock, means I am constantly, if subtly, monitoring and adjusting my own pace of work. I am learning how important pacing is for me to maintain good relationships with the work and the world. Maybe it’s having worked in the arts for a long time, feeling work ebb and flow over several decades. Maybe it’s due to the growing importance of climate change in my world-awareness, positioning myself conceptually as a small being within a vast timeframe, both human and non-human. Maybe it’s also the oncoming freight train of Artificial Intelligence (AI), and the worry that if I can’t find a way to use it for my own benefit, it’ll run me over. Might AI help me safeguard more creative or leisure time? I’m trying not to talk about slowing down. Your ideal pace may not be the same as mine, and our paces vary over time. Those of us with caring responsibilities, multiple jobs, physical limitations, or heavy financial burdens, rarely have the luxury of setting our own pace – although, I question whether working slower should be considered a ‘luxury’. The crux of the matter for me is that my creative work is greatly enriched by leaving time for it to breathe. Like all arts freelancers, my work-pace is erratic, week to week, year to year. I worked doggedly (and happily) throughout my early career, followed by a period of overwork and some significant burnout, through the abrupt pandemic downshift, and most recently, the energetic limitations that perimenopause throws at me. For a long time, I knew I could always just work that bit more; I could always squeeze something else in. Until I couldn’t. Coming up to the absolute edge of my own capacity, and going past it, was a real lesson: I have a finite amount of energy and time – what do I want to use it for? Those of us with solitary workspaces don’t always know how others work. I look at social media posts of artists I admire and measure myself against what I imagine their work-pace to be, invariably feeling inadequate. Recently, an artist I consider to be an inspiring way-maker in his lasting, authentic, multi-faceted career, said he wonders if he’s lazy. I learn from colleagues with disabilities and long-term chronic illnesses, who have no choice but to think about pace all the time – whether by taking naps, having access riders to support their work, or using
‘spoon theory’ to describe their fluctuating energy levels for daily activities. I note in my own body how (ironically) unsettling it can feel, when being challenged to slow right down. In her book, How To Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy (Melville House Publishing, 2019), the writer and artist Jenny Odell talks of “resistance-in-place”. Not running away from it all, “dropping out”, or searching for a quiet life elsewhere, but finding techniques to embody the pace you crave right here. Odell advocates for resisting the pull towards productivity and resisting ones existence being appropriated by a capitalist value system, stating: “To remain in this state takes commitment, discipline, and will. Doing nothing is hard.” Odell also discusses the merits of being “too weird or too difficult” to be processed in a standardised or streamlined manner. I see this as an additional value of artists: to not fit easily into standardised processes or modes; to add complication by wanting to do things in a way that works for them, rather than being complicit in a frictionless system. By being unafraid to irritate, you embolden others around you to do the same. Artists remind us that there are other ways of living. Setting my own work-pace goes handin-hand with a belief that slowness is a human right. By slowing down, I try to support those who can’t. I am open about how I slow-pace my work, avoiding adding to a miasma of competitive busy-ness. Those of us who can somewhat choose our own pace can be the grit in the machine. Being plural in my multi-disciplinary practice is one intentional strategy of both keeping myself questioning, and resisting being streamlined. Shapeshifting is a form of resistance to productivity, to rationalisation, to measurable outcomes. I would like to leave you with some questions: Who or what sets the pace you work at? Where is it within your power to resist an unwanted pace? What if we collectively adopted a praxis of rush-refusal? Lian Bell is an artist and arts manager based in Dublin. lianbell.com
onto Arran Street East to take a call from Michele Horrigan, artist, curator, director and founder of Askeaton Contemporary Arts (ACA). Michele asked if I would like to join her and ACA at the Curatorial Exchange, organised by Independent Curators International (ICI) and the International Exposition of Contemporary & Modern Art (EXPO Chicago). Michele and I had known each other nearly two years at that point. ACA commissions, produces, and exhibits contemporary art in the locale of Askeaton, a small town in County Limerick. I attended their annual event, Welcome to the Neighbourhood, in 2022 and Michele invited me back as a visiting curator the following year. During these visits, it became clear that Michele and I share common ground, with collaboration, hospitality, and a specific interest in place aligning our curatorial practices. She has been a constant source of support ever since. These visits to Askeaton helped me to contextualise my own ambitions within contemporary art. Most of my opportunities have come from instincts to form sincere relationships and spend time with people I relate to, without calculation. Established in 2018, the Curatorial Exchange is an invitation-only programme, focused on funding global curator convenings that foster future collaborations on a local and international level. EXPO Chicago is an international contemporary and modern art exhibition held each year in Chicago. ICI is an international body, based in New York, that helps curators to create stronger art communities through global collaboration. Michele is part of the ICI alumni and was invited to take part in the Curatorial Forum, a parallel programme to the Curatorial Exchange. She expanded this opportunity by proposing that Helena Tobin, Director of South Tipperary Arts Centre, and I join her. It was the first time Irish curators took part in the programme which coincided with its 11th anniversary. The EXPO Chicago team organised an ambitious itinerary for participating curators, setting a high standard of care, communication, and professionalism. I embraced the experience and met with particular curators and art spaces that align with my practice and The Complex mission. I arrived in Chicago four days before the Curatorial Exchange began, which gave me the chance to engage with the city, visit spaces, and carry out studio visits. I met artists like B. Ingrid Olson, Max Guy, Devin T. Mays, and Julian Van Der Moere, who spoke openly about their practices, particularly in the context of Chicago and its visual art infrastructure. I visited the Midland Warehouses, a vast industrial building that has been converted into artist studios and galleries. One such gallery was Good Weather, and I immediately felt a kinship
with their curatorial programme and community. There was a high level of professionalism within the presentation of the work, yet there was an informal atmosphere created by its non-traditional space and friendly dialogue. My experiences thereafter led me to see that the broader art scene in Chicago shares these traits. Around this time, Michele drove a seven-seater wagon across Wisconsin to visit art spaces, transporting the Irish team: Michele, Helena, and I, along with Sean Lynch, Emily Lynch, and Stephen Brandes, who was representing ACA in an off-site miniature fair, the Barely Fair. During the Curatorial Exchange, participating curators met for breakfast each day before getting the bus to Expo Chicago on the city’s Navy Pier by Lake Michigan. This gave curators the chance to meet, share and speak openly about their work and challenges in the field. I connected with some inspiring people and developed friendships that impacted my experience. In partnership with ICI, EXPO Chicago presented its first ever free, public conference on-site, titled ‘Curating and the Commons’, which explored the civic nature and possibilities of art and curatorial practice. Talks that resonated included a keynote lecture from Miguel A. López (Co-curator of the Toronto Biennial of Art 2024) who spoke about his time at TEOR/ética – an independent cultural project located in San José, Costa Rica. Through communal non-hierarchical ways of re-thinking its organisational structure, the staff decided on a new model of collective artistic direction. Risa Puleo (Co-curator of the Counterpublics Triennial 2023) mentioned the Wah Zha Zhe Puppet Theatre in Missouri, where oral stories are performed to maintain Osage identity. The concluding discussion featured Michele Horrigan, and Joseph Cuillier and Shani Peters from The Black School – an experimental art school teaching radical Black politics in New Orleans. The conversation was moderated by Megha Ralapati (Programme Director, CEC ArtsLink, New York) and weaved the diverse elements and distances between their programmes through local experiences. It was an honour to represent The Complex and my curatorial practice internationally. Floating on an island between the hubs of contemporary art can make you feel somewhat detached as a curator. However, this perception soon fades away when you engage in genuine conversation and realise that we are all bound through our affinities. Special thanks to The Arts Council of Ireland, the ICI team , the EXPO Chicago team, Michele Horrigan, Askeaton Contemporary Arts, and The Complex. Mark O’Gorman is Curator/Producer of Visual Arts at The Complex, Dublin. thecomplex.ie