Saturday, June 28, 2014

A B.A.D SOCIAL CLUB - Organizing, Curating, and Installing

A B.A.D Social Club: the result of more than two months of intense planning, organizing, and preparing so that all 18 of the fine arts exchange students at Willem de Kooning could put on a group exhibition. It began with Sean, an Irish exchange student and studio friend, emailing a bunch of galleries and organizations looking for a cheap or free space for students to show work, and he heard back from a place called Stichting B.a.d, a non-profit arts organization in the south of Rotterdam. B.a.d used to be a squat, and now artists live and work there cheaply and occasionally there are art events and exhibitions in their main hall. Sean and a Finnish girl Maria were leaving the studio one day a few months ago to go look at the space and I tagged along to see what it would be like. We talked to Kamiel, who runs B.a.d and who gave us a lot of helpful information about when, where and how we could show work, giving an approximate exhibition date and some expectations for another meeting. We spent the rest of the day exploring the surrounding neighborhood called Charlois, and many other arts organizations and galleries found there. It seemed we had somewhat unintentionally become the three organizers of this foggy idea of an exhibition, but we decided that we were all on board as a team,  and agreed to be as deliberate and clear as possible about planning everything and organizing the other 15 people in our fine arts exchange group. We went to a cafe and sat for hours taking notes on everything that had to be done logistically, worked through ideas for themes, trying to find a central thread to tie all the works together, and planned how we would present our ideas to the group the next week. By the end of the night we were exhausted but excited and hopeful with the idea of independently putting on an exhibition in Rotterdam, particularly such a large one. Our biggest concerns from the start were to make the show accessible and to keep it aware of its location in the south of Rotterdam, as a marginalized neighborhood that has been red-taped by the government and city planners and where many minority communities live. We were also intent on not putting on a typical student exhibition with 18 unrelated works in a white cube with our names on a piece of paper- we all find this incredibly boring and we had no interest in continuing in the usual fashion.

We spent the next month or two meeting with our group of 18 and as a group of organizers every week or so. Some more people volunteered for responsibilities- Jen was treasurer and in charge of fundraising, a mediator between us and Hogeschool Rotterdam who was giving us funding, Otto agreed to make the poster and flyers, and Beatrice joined me in curating the exhibition. "Curating" was a word I had only briefly used in quotations during our first little meeting of three when I agreed to be in charge of figuring out a central theme for the exhibition and do whatever writing work that had to be done. Of course I should have known better that by agreeing to that, curating was exactly what I was doing, especially as Beatrice and I made the exhibition itself more and more into its own concept: a kind of campy, kitsch, playful environment modeled after a combined social club, childrens' birthday party, and community center that we would eventually dub a B.A.D Social Club.

Curating: Fumbling and Experimenting

The original goal we had set as a group of organizers was for me and Beatrice to come up with three themes or commonalities amongst the exhibition group, around which we would organize a shedule of events during our three day long exhibition. In order to do this we decided to talk individually with each member of the group, asking them one very open question: What do you give? Originally we were going to ask each person about their artistic practice, but we changed the question to make it more general and less art-specific, so that in theory we could ask the question to any person. I talked to almost everyone, and when I did I told them the question, I let them know I was recording their voice, and told them I would not speak but only listen, and they could speak to me for however long they wanted about whatever came to mind. This question and format were a bit broad and uncomfortable for some, so most people spoke about what they make and think about artistically, but I assured everyone that it was ok to stumble and ramble and say "um" and that this was what made the exercise so incredibly interesting. I modeled it after active listening, something I'd practiced before in other communities, and I loved being able to hear each person speak without interruption and listen to where their brain took them. The recordings ended up being fascinating and highly personal artifacts, a work of art in themselves as unique statements made by artists in the moment, and they seemed to hold so much more truth and life than any careful, calculated written artist statement.

Beatrice and I had wanted to use the recordings to compile everyone's thoughts and organize them into whatever themes we found most prevalent, a way to extract a content for exhibition from the group rather than impose it top-down. After much mental struggling and discussion we came up with two common themes: action and reaction as an artistic process. We observed that some of us make work as a reaction to what we see in the world, processing it through drawings or paintings or video, and some of us make work as an action meant to have an impact in the world, in the form of images, zines, performances and sculptures. We presented this dichotomy to the exhibition group and told everyone which group we thought each person tended towards, stressing that everyone can choose and there was also room for changing the themes or adding to them. People seemed to like the idea enough, though we had not been able to interview everyone and sometimes the language barrier made explaining difficult. We decided to go forward with this theme for the exhibition and then had a few weeks break from planning due to the Verbeke trip, Easter and spring break.

Once we came back however, much of the group seemed a lot more confused and divided on the theme and what was expected of them. We met with our group critique teacher Juan, who had heard bits and pieces about the exhibition from students, and he pushed us to be more specific about the theme, what we were asking from the artists, and what the show would be "about". I stressed the fact that we still had not planned any of the events, which would be an integral part of the content of the exhibition, and the group of organizers decided to meet again to rethink our ideas. Sean, Maria, Beatrice and I talked for hours, joined by Otto and Philip, deciding to take everything back to the beginning, scrap "Action vs. Reaction", and brainstorming ways to make a show engaging, accessible, playful and interesting for all kinds of people while still being able to incorporate all the artworks in a way that made sense. Somehow, in a very roundabout way that I find hard to remember, we reached the idea of making the exhibition into a fictional social club. Lots of couches, a shared meal, music and dancing, discussions and games, kitschy colorful decorations, and creating a space where the work could be exhibited in a playful way, almost decoratively, so that no particular commonalities had to be drawn between any of them and they could be installed as one with the hangout space. We named it a B.A.D Social Club after Stichting B.a.d. and to play on the idea of the building originally being a public bath- a meeting place for the local community. By the end of the meeting we were again exhausted but even more excited about our renewed idea.

This new idea was more difficult to explain to the group as it was dependent on the specific social phenomenon of community clubs that are familiar to some and not others, and having a socially-engaged, non-traditional exhibition was out of the comfort zone of some students coming from a more traditional, white cube education at home. We were careful to get personal feedback from each member of the group, finding that everyone was on board, some people more comfortable than others but everyone excited about doing something new and different. We then had one month to make and distribute posters and flyers, publicize the exhibition online, organize food and drink, apply for funding from Hogeschool Rotterdam and Willem de Kooning, plan where and how to install the works, and most importantly come up with a schedule of events for the weekend. As soon as I came back from my trip to Berlin I was hard at work helping with all of these things and working closely with Beatrice and Sean to make sure all the artwork was being made on time, everyone had everything they needed to install, and everyone was on the same page for what would actually happen during the exhibition. We planned Friday night as our opening party and shared meal, Saturday as a day to discuss city planning, go on Otto's art walk out in the neighborhood and use a bowl full of questions to start other discussions in the living room area, and Sunday would be a big, informal and public group critique. We had also asked Otto to make a zine in place of the usual sheet of paper with names, titles of works and artist statements- instead the zine would have a simple, sometimes humorous drawing of each work with the artist's name and a question posed by the artist to the viewer. People could walk around trying to match each drawing in the zine to the works they see and answering the questions if they chose, adding an interactive and playful element to the exhibition. In the end the zines weren't published in time and Otto decided he didn't want them shown, but I thought it was a brilliant idea anyway.

Our very pretty and color-coded exhibition layout plan

Installation

Before the week of the show I was nervous that I would spend that week pulling my hair out, that some people wouldn't turn work in on time or the space wouldn't be big enough or no one would show up to help- I should never have worried. I was working with the best group I could have wished for, all the work was finished on time to be installed (except poor Otto going crazy trying to finish his work and the zines), everyone showed up on Thursday morning to move furniture, clean and install, Tea and Clare had more than enough help cooking, and everything was finished on Friday with time to spare. The space looked better than I could have imagined, it was the perfect amount of work for the size of the hall and outside garden, and we were able to borrow some really great retro furniture from B.a.d. to make the space really cozy. Once we were finished it looked like a proper living room, and even the residents of B.a.d. were happy with how inviting it looked.

Timelapse Video of Installation

The Living Room
Sean installing his sculpture, which was christened Otto.
Decor gals
We left sketchbooks around to draw in
Jess doing some inviting sidewalk chalk drawings



The Question Bowl, by Maggie and Beatrice

Tea Andreoletti, Bologna, Italy


Tea Andreoletti
Mair Cook, Falmouth, England, pre-performance
Jessica Young, London, England
A sign with instructions for Otto's neighborhood art walk, with maps on flyers below
Francesco Dipierro, Milan, Italy

Francesco Dipierro

Milos Stevic, Linz, Austria / Serbia

Milos Stevic
Maria Kokkonen, Turku, Finland

Marina Garner, Calgary, Canada

Alex Hamlin, Sydney, Australia


Serden Salman, Turkey

Clare Lowden, Bristol, England

Jen Nguyen, New York, USA

Otto Stoneman, Bristol, England / Galway, Ireland

Philip Weiss-Tornes, Sydney, Australia / Norway

Sean Grimes, Dublin, Ireland

Berkay Yahya, Turkey

Nateish Wilman, Calgary, Canada


One of the things weighing on my mind pre-installation was what I was going to do with my own work. I had spent almost all semester spinning raw wool and knitting it into pieces approximately one foot square, and attaching a small piece to a mug like a cozy similar to the large rug piece Tea Cozy I had made my second year. I felt like I had very little to show for a lot of work, understandable due to the time-intensive nature of crafting, and so I had to drop ideas I'd had like wrapping trees in knitting, covering the treehouse in the garden, or covering several chairs. Instead I took one light blue wooden chair from B.a.d. and covered as much of it as I could with the dark brown knitting, dotted with bits of hay and smelling strongly like farm and lanolin and very oily to the touch. I found a rickety wooden side table and a retro-looking lamp and placed them within the living room arrangement with the wooly chair at the table. On the table next to the lamp was the mug with a woolen cozy, in addition to two small books I had made during the semester. One was called "A House For Love", a palm-sized book with watercolor drawings paired with short bits of repetitive text opposite, and the other was called "A Little Book of Fun & Games & Radical Intentions", a notebook with a compilation of games, activities and exercises I had learned at camp and in other communities with helpful explanations and illustrations. I had never formally critiqued either the knitting or the books, and so I really had no idea what exactly I had made until I put it all together in the context of the exhibition, and I had not originally meant to put the books with the knitting until I made a gut decision while installing. When finished installing I still did not know what exactly I had done or why I had done it, but I left it, giving it up to the exhibition and the people interacting with it to find out its meaning in context.

Inside "A House For Love"



Sunday, June 22, 2014

Berlin

I had a couple of rocky weeks in between my trip to Spain and my weekend in Berlin that involved falling off my bike skidding on tram tracks in the rain and banging up my hand, after just getting over a fierce week-long cold that was probably the result of not sleeping or eating well while travelling. Luckily my trip to Berlin was of a much more relaxed nature, since I was visiting my mom's good friend and college roommate Miriam and her daughter Pauline and staying in their flat. I was glad to be going somewhere where I knew someone, especially someone close to my mom, and it kind of felt a bit like going home, to a real house with a mom and getting to eat meals with a family and hang around chatting in a living room. 

It was a very different way of travelling than what I'd done before and I think I consequently saw a very different Berlin than I would have if I had been alone and staying in a youth hostel. The majority of things I saw and did there were historical or cultural, especially because I was there for The Long Night of Museums, when all the museums in Berlin stay open until 2am and have free entry if you get a 12 euro ticket. We went to ten museums in one night! The Bauhaus Archive, The Schwules Museum (LGBT art), The GDR Museum, the National Gallery, a museum about the Stasi in Germany, the German Historical Museum, the Currywurst Museum, a museum about the Trabi, the typical East Berlin car, and Checkpoint Charlie. I learned a great deal about the GDR (German Democratic Republic, East Germany and East Berlin under Soviet rule) and what life was like in Germany during the Cold War before the wall came down. Miriam also had loads of information about the layout of the city, where the wall was and how it affected city planning and how it changed when it was removed. She had lived in Berlin when the wall was up and thus was a really interesting person to talk to about how much Berlin has grown and changed, and I was glad to have that perspective as I visited the city. I was a bit disappointed to miss being able to visit with James, my good friend from New York, who was there one week after I was. I would have liked to see the weird, new, youthful Berlin that I heard about from my friend Bea who has lived there, but it is a difficult city to stumble upon these things as it is so spread out, and my weekend was already full of museums and history. It seems like Berlin takes more time than a long weekend, and I would like to go back with Bea or James to see the parts I may have missed.

I was glad to get to spend time with Miriam and talk about familiar things like my mom and brother and New York, and to get to know her daughter Pauline a bit better since she's now 16 and super smart and way cool. I ate some of the best cake in my life, and walked through some really amazing parks with cutting-edge playgrounds (very German) and cooked my favorite recipe, lentils stewed in red wine and tomatoes for a lovely dinner one night. I was also ecstatic about the quality and quanity of Turkish food in Berlin. 

All in all I think I've only just begun to get to know the sprawling, growing, constantly changing city that is Berlin and I was grateful not only to visit the city but also to visit some familiar faces and be welcome in Miriam's home. It was a relief to not push myself to do too much or have to plan things myself after  a week in Spain, and I took advantage of having a restful weekend away from Rotterdam.

I didn't take nearly as many photos as I usually do when travelling alone, but here are some of the sights I saw:

Brandenburg Gate

remnants of the Berlin Wall

a memorial to those who died trying to cross the wall



Holocaust memorial


Good to see a rainbow flag hanging in the US Embassy.


Madrid, La Gran Ciudad

MADRID - It's good to be back in a big city again. London was huge and occasionally soul-crushing in a similar way to New York, but Madrid was a big city with a small town mentality- don't rush, be friendly, and enjoy yourself. It felt less Spanish and more metropolitan than Granada and Santiago, more grand and self-conscious. Madrid is beautiful and it knows it. A big part of how much I enjoyed my two nights there was staying in a great hostel that had a lot of activities going on and a lot of great people. I arrived Friday evening and was quickly swept up into Madrid's nightlife by joining a pub crawl hosted by a sister hostel- I went with two guys from my room, Augustine from Argentina and Matt from Manchester. We got to the other hostel at 11 and did not start the crawl until 1am, when we went to two bars and then left for a club around 3:30, at which point I decided I needed to go to bed. Spain, I cannot keep up with you.

The next day I went on a free tour of the city, also hosted by my hostel, led by a wonderful woman from Columbia. It lasted almost three hours but was totally worth it, as I saw and learned things I would have never known by myself, and she had everyone in the group introduce ourselves, saying where we're from and our favorite cities we'd visited. I was glad to meet more great people on that tour, one of whom was Jess from LA, whom I'd just met at our hostel in Granada a few days before, and another was Stu from London who had once worked at a summer camp in Maine. Small world! Fun fact- the two sons of Spanish royalty go to summer camp in rural Maine.

Me in front of the Royal Palace:


Inside La Catedral de la Almudena, the beautifully modern cathedral of Madrid:










After the tour Jess, Stu and I went to get lunch at El Mercado de San Miguel, an indoor market inside a large hall with hundreds of vendors selling high-end, quality Spanish food- all the tapas you can imagine, sangria, wine, pastries, fish, paella, cheese, juices, meats, ice cream. The hall was packed with people and everything smelled divine but it was difficult to navigate the crowds so we grabbed tapas and ate them out in the sun. Afterwards we wandered back towards the cafe that our tour guide had pointed out as a historic and traditional place to eat churros con chocolate, which again made me feel a bit sick, but the place was cute and reminded me of the old Italian cafes in Boston's North End.


I spent the rest of the afternoon alone at El Museo de la Reina SofĂ­a, which had a lot of contemporary exhibitions on show, one of which was called Playgrounds, in which I stayed happily for several hours. "Reinventing the Square" was the tagline for the show, and it explored in many different spaces with many artists how the idea of public space has been reinvented in the modern era and how it can continue to be changed in order to keep it in the hands of the people, and be used for social change. 






My favorite part of the exhibition, a piece called The Model (for a qualitative society) by Danish artist Palle Nielsen which created a play space inside an institution made, made of rudimentary structures from recycled materials for children to come and play, change the space, build more structures, and use their imagination without adult interference. Of course this was incredibly interesting and exciting for me because of all the work I have been doing trying to bring play into art practice and blurring the line between artwork and imaginative, non-productive, seemingly pointless fun- the kind that children find easy and adults find very difficult and confusing. It was interesting seeing how the piece, executed in the 60s, was receieved by art institutions who may not have seen it as art, and by parents who had issues with safety and the limited supervision and ample freedom given to the children who played in The Model.


Map showing frames for building, a foam block pool, dress-up station, paint and clay tables, climbing towers, and a collective swing.














Sunday, my last day in Spain, I ate lunch at El Mercado de San Miguel again, this time arriving before all other tourists and carefully choosing a variety of delicious tapas. Little pieces of bread with onions and goat cheese, strong brie and fruit, veggies and fish, and a strange topping that looked a lot like white worms but was actually fish intestines, which was really yummy. Sangria at noon? Sure, I'm in Spain.


I wandered down to La Plaza Latina and stumbled across a strange sort of public space that had a bunch of semi-permanent, DIY-looking structures in a large lot, where there was an acapella concert going on and people were listening and lounging in the sun. I was really excited and pleasantly surprised to happen upon such an intriguing use of public space- it had seating with shade for watching concerts and for hanging out, a basketball court, garden plots, a lot of great murals, and even a toilet, and there was a guy selling cheap beer and food while we listened to the music. It made me think a lot about how we use public space back home in New York and the US, as there seem to be more restrictions on it and less of a sense of communal ownership that makes something like this possible. I wish I could have stayed longer and seen what other ways people used the space and how it was run.








I had an amazing time in Madrid and felt like I had fallen in love with the city even after two days, and I didn't want to leave, feeling like I had only scratched the surface. Granada and Madrid are two places I will want to go back to spend more time the first chance I get. I'm unsure of how I would feel living in Spain long-term, but visiting was everything I could have imagined, and I feel like I have opened up to visiting more Spanish-speaking countries- now my eye is on Mexico and Latin and South America. 

On an unrelated note, I also learned never to take an overnight bus if I value my mental and physical health- my very silly previous self, while booking plane tickets months ago, decided it would be a good idea to take a cheap Easy Jet plane back from Madrid to London and then take an overnight bus from there to Rotterdam instead of a plane direct from Spain to the Netherlands. This resulted in a sleepless night and 14 hours of continuous travelling until I was in my bed at 9am on Monday morning, and subsequently caught a long and terrible cold for that week. Luckily I was better in time for my next trip- Berlin!