I’ve hit that point of the work where I’ve done all of the preparation for the event, and now its just waiting for the actual moment when people arrive… in 4 days time… soooo…. Yeah.
The marketing has been done; I’ve engaged with as many groups as I could; I’ve secured sites; I’ve prepared the props; I’ve got documentation ready; I’ve secured some helpers; I’ve researched sponsorship; I’ve spoken to as many people as I can about the event: now I just need people to take part….!
That’s the thing about socially engaged works (and about all art, if you ask my humble opinion!) it can’t exist without people. It might be contentious, but I’ve time to kill, so I’ll say it anyways: Without real, live humans with hearts, souls and histories, the work only exists as a self-contained concept – a sort of hermetic masturbation. Possibly even more contentiously: with gallery-based work, there’s probably slightly more leeway for a platonic model of art because so few ‘normal people’ visit a gallery anyways that, in some way, art objects can exist as a conceptual experiment, floating in the pristine (sterile?) laboratory of the white-cube.
However, when working directly in the public realm, its kinda important to work with the public… without them, the work does not exist. It is formed within the relationships that are forged: the work’s very sparks are within the processes of relations. So the question becomes: how to make an event a ‘success’ without knowing for sure if people will show up!?!
We’ll get to that in a second, but I wanted to tell you that since I last “blogged” I met with the lovely Andreas from Public Works folks and the very nice Katie Orr from Gasworks. Both had some excellent insights, both from a practitioner and institutional perspectives, and while I could speak at length about the different sorts of advice, the most salient conversation was about ‘relationships’ and the difference between long-term and short-terms residencies. Both have their merits, and both, of course, come with their faults: Within a longer residency, you can develop relationships and invest in change (be that social, personal, aesthetic, cultural, etc) that can be lasting and meaningful to one’s collaborators/audience/participants, and in contrast, a short-terms residency becomes a bit like a cultural colonization – someone helicoptered in, like a missionary, to “do art” and then leave, regardless of the long-term needs or desires of a community.
On the hand, no matter how long those long-term residencies are, they will inevitably come to an end, leaving long-developed relationships and hard-worked investment to possibly decay. Whereas at least within a short-term residency, one can not claim to be anything other than an outsider and therefore work more honestly from that perspective: the limitations are more apparent and therefore the delineation of relationships can be more honest.
So, here I am, at the end of a short-term residency, with an event fast approaching, and as many relationships (superficial) developed as possible; an outsider to the community: how can the work succeed?!
I don’t know.
And ain’t that a scary sentence to write?!
I think it comes down to a time commitment, and I guess it like a painter who gives as much time as she/he can to a work – s/he’s researched the concept; s/he’s got the right canvas; s/he’s brought the right paints, s/he’s got the right light, and s/he’s given herself/himself to the manifestation of that work…and similarly, I’ve done all the things I’ve done to manifest this work – the craft is different, but the processes are similar. I think the difference lies in its reception… and a painter has a bit more control on its outcome, on her/his final product, whereas, my product lies in the types of relationships that can come out of an event – a far more intangible thing. I often wonder why on earth I do it. Wouldn’t it be easier to be a painter… and then I remember being on my degree and someone saying “work with your strengths” and I figured my strengths were people. I like people. I like speaking to them. I find the human race quite wonderful. My favourite scene from my favourite film
Harold: You sure have a way with people.
Maude: Well, they’re my species!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mz3TkxJhPc
So, in some ways, it cannot be a fail. If one person shows up, then I will have succeeded – I’ll be working with my species, and I kind of like them. Be that all 6.3 billion of them, or just one.