Meta-Practice

the dreaminess of unrestricted grants

Unrestricted grants sound dreamy. St. Louis, MO has just announce that its Regional Arts Commission will disperse ten unrestricted grants of $20,000 each to individual artists.

The grants will come with no strings attached, said Jill McGuire, executive director. A visual artist need not stage an exhibit at the end of the fellowship….

The grants come in response to the Artists Count study, conducted last year. The study’s chief finding is that about one-third of artists work multiple jobs. It also found 46 percent earn less than $25,000 annually.

“Artists say their No. 1 need is time,” McGuire said. “For them, time is money. So by giving them money, we give them the freedom to maybe work one less job and have that time to create.”

This is a big deal. As I’ve found in my own experience, it’s much easier to get funding for art education projects than for art:

Not many public arts agencies give money directly to artists. After conservatives threatened to abolish the National Endowment for the Arts in the 1980s, the NEA and many state and local arts commissions focused on funding programs that reached the underserved — classical concerts in inner-city parks, dance workshops for rural students, writing programs for prisoners.

Recently, however, some arts commissions have started to offer artist fellowships.

Not surprisingly, arts commissions in Minnesota, Chicago, Portland and Seattle all offer large grants.

But so does Cleveland — 20 grants of $20,000 annually….

“When we started there weren’t a lot of models for funding individual artists,” said Cleveland program manager Susan dePasquale.

“After the culture wars at the National Endowment of the Arts, a lot of those grants stopped, but slowly they’ve been picking up. Most of those grants are smaller. But after looking at other programs and hearing directly from the artists themselves, we settled on a very generous and forward-thinking program that really is an investment in our artists. We have a very vibrant, creative community here, and we wanted to support that.”

What would I do with an unrestricted grant? The same thing that I’d hope to do with my applications to residency and project opportunities—make more ambitious art and develop exhibitions—only in my own city, my own studio, and with all my tools at hand. I could get a bigger studio, have more space for bigger projects and  comfortable studio visits, and spend more focused time in my local world-class exhibitions and research institutions. I could let ideas marinate a little more, to block off time for advancing my skills with the reference books I’ve accumulated and the classes that I haven’t yet made time for. It would be a residency of my own making: time and space to focus.

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Art Competition Odds

art competition odds: Art Omi International Artists Residency

In 2013, Art Omi’s International Artists Residency received around 700 applications for 30 residency spots in different disciplines.

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or about 1:23, or 4%.

See all Art Competition Odds.

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Meta-Practice, Values

How to be everywhere at once, or not

Inspired by a walk around Chelsea and CAA, here are a few thoughts about how artists of a certain level are able to sustain multiple galleries and fairs…

Variations and editions

At Doug Aitken’s show at 303 Gallery, the list of works stated that all artworks, except for the site-specific installation, were multiples. Text works that could have been fabricated by sign shops were editions of four, plus two artist’s proofs. Other text works that might involve more chance, such as a piece with broken mirrors and another foam piece that was partly carved by hand, were variations, plus artist’s proofs.

The way Aiken and many contemporary other artists edition sculptures seems  pragmatic—there is so much research and development that goes into each work, and so many venues for international artists, that being able to exhibit and sell the same work is advantageous. Yet, these editioned sculptures would never be displayed next to each other, or heavens forbid, in the same fair at different booths—like the earliest fine art print editions, the whole concept of an edition is to create scarcity and value. I’m curious if collectors feel like they’re buying originals, are concerned with the fidelity to exhibition copies, or are simply less concerned with purchasing copies, especially of industrially-fabricated works.

(The show itself was dazzling in the video as well as in person, but not especially affective. I believe a critic for the New Yorker found the show to be resemble window displays, and I got the same feeling. There were intimations of destruction, but no danger. In the large hole drilled out of the concrete gallery floor, the milky water was lit from beneath, as if a hot tub. One text work was set behind a faux wall with a cartoonish circular hole cut away; the drywall was filled with pebbly rubble painted white as if on a theatrical set made of Plasticine.)

A few rules make disparate drawings a series

Of particular interest at Mark Dion at Tanya Bonokdar:

1. The vitrines with marine encrustations that were on view in International Orange in San Francisco are now highly salable objects in a Chelsea gallery. (Also, I believe  those were clearly indicated as collaborations in San Francisco, a fact not obvious in NYC.) The settings are so different I found it humorously ironic. Fort Point was bitterly cold, practically in the Pacific Ocean than abutting it. The vitrines were lit in a theatrically dim light, which minimized Fort Point’s peeling walls. At Bonokdar, the pristine gallery housed a number of vitrines and installations, all of which were perfectly installed and maintained. The change of context from the edge of the continent to the center of a commercial art world demonstrates a fluidity that contrasts greatly with so many artists I know who exhibit in odd places in the Bay Area.

2. Dion makes preliminary sketches for his various public projects and commissions—from the UK to San Francisco’s Balboa Park—in red and blue colored pencil. Who knows why, but the effect is that a room with dozens of such drawings hung salon-style looks fantastic. A simple set of rules increases the volume of exhibition-ready work.

Conflicts of Interest Vs. Conflicts of Self-Interest

At the College Art Association conference a few weeks ago, I attended a session called “The Future of Art Magazines” (see GalleristNY.com’s write-up). A comment that has stuck with me is that people play so many roles in the art strata, that it can pose dilemmas to critics. For example, critics who are also curators may worry that they can’t negatively review certain institutions that they might work with, or risk offending artists that they might curate or be asked to curate. I wondered if this was an actual conflict of interest, when the potential of a partnership is merely a potential. Perhaps it would better be phrased as a conflict of self-interest?

Of course people do this all the time. Yet the frequency of self-interested behavior doesn’t make it right—call it Darwinian, hustlin’, or playing the game, it’s also selfish, opportunistic, and small.

To be big, one must imagine that other people are big, too. That artists or administrators won’t be offended if you write a negative review with honesty and integrity. Whether others are in a position of power or not relative to yourself, people should be able to handle direct, open communication with judiciousness and discretion. In my recent correspondence with commenters on Temporary Art Review, I have been trying to encourage artists to give feedback directly to residency administrators. It seems a reasonable thing to do, except for a fear of retaliation that is not a part of the art world that I would like to participate in.

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Meta-Practice

how to decide if an art competition is right for you

Save time: If you answer NO to any of the following questions, simply move on from this particular opportunity. Leave it. Be on to the next thing.

Are you eligible?

E.g., basic requirements for geographic restrictions, student status, etc.

Are you an appropriate candidate?

E.g., if disciplines, languages, or career/experience levels are specified.

Are you willing to pay the entry fee?

Are you willing to pay or find financial assistance for fees or costs associated with the opportunity?

Consider travel, accommodations, shipping, insurance, materials, framing, overhead (time off of work, studio and home rent while away), etc. Consider that stipends and reimbursements may be issued as taxable income, fiscal sponsors often take a 10-15% administrative fee, and international bank transfers and checks incur transaction fees.

Do the potential benefits of applying outweigh the costs of applying?

E.g., who are the jurors and how much is a few seconds or minutes of their attention worth to you?

If selected, will the benefits of participating outweigh the costs and risks of participating?

E.g., for exhibitions, how optimal will the viewing conditions be? Who is the venue’s audience? What are the chances your work will be damaged in transport, installation, events, de-installation? For public art projects, how much of the budget will be spent on heavy equipment, insurance, and your own labor over the course of a multi-month or multi-year process? How will your productivity at a residency be affected by its location? How will you access groceries, supplies, and transport?

Are you willing to meet the requirements of the opportunity?

E.g., if residents are required to contribute a work of art to the collection, or eight hours per week teaching, or use headphones in studios; exhibiting artists must submit work ready-to-hang, accept a 50/50 split in the case of sales; grantees must submit a receipts or a final report, etc.

Are you available for the time commitment?

For residencies or fellowships, consider the policies on guests and taking leaves.

Are you willing to list references or request letters of recommendation, if needed?

Do you have adequate time to complete your submittal by the deadline?

For hard copy submittals, note whether the deadline is for receipt or postmark.

Do you have adequate time to develop a proposal you will be happy to realize and a reasonable budget, if required?

Is the call source reputable? Is the call free of red flags? Is the opportunity with a trustworthy organization?

Is the opportunity aligned with your goals as an artist?

If you aren’t sure what your goals are, set some time to write and review your goals in the next 14 days.
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Meta-Practice

what artists make happen

I love this quote from Jeremy Deller:

art isn’t about what you make but what you make happen.

In response, JL asked,

but do you have to void one to validate the other?

No. Still, I conceive of what you make happen to encompass so much more than what you make. To try to work out what I mean, I started sketching a diagram. This is what I’ve come up with (so far):

Christine Wong Yap, diagrammatic study about what artists make and what artists make happen: how objects, events/situations and possibilities intersect to create exhibitions, practice, communities, dialogues and engagement.

Christine Wong Yap, diagrammatic study about what artists make and what artists make happen: how objects, events/situations and possibilities intersect to create exhibitions, practice, communities, dialogues and engagement.

I’ll attempt an explanation:

Artists make objects. The very activity of manipulating materials with an openness to their possibilities is the development of our own practices. We use imagination, courage, and will to take creative risks and sustain activities and engagement that can lead to enjoyment and flow (see Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow).

Many artists make exhibitions, which are events/situations for engagement between the artist and viewer via the object.

So, largely, I think what artists make are objects, exhibitions, and practices that are opportunities for personal aesthetic, intellectual, and emotional engagement. (See Csikszentmihalyi and Rick E. Robinson’s The Art of Seeing for more on the four dimensions of aesthetic experience.) The engagement is personal—for artists, via our activity with objects and their display, and for viewers, via those objects displayed.

What artists make happen, though, seems to expand beyond what artists make.

Artists also make events/situations (which are not object-based exhibitions) happen. These are spaces—physical or psychological—for attention or interaction. Participatory projects, public interventions, and of course, happenings, are some examples.

Some artists also make possibilities, and some artists make possibilities happen.

Artists make creative possibilities happen in terms of their personal development (object + possibilities = practice). We also make creative possibilities happen in terms of the development of the field, when our object-possibilities are accepted into the cannon, and they shift what constitutes contemporary art, therefore advances knowledge (see Csikszentmihalyi, Creativity). In this case, what artists make happen is a result of what artists make.

But artists can also make the field’s expansion and evolvement happen. We do this by creating events/situations with openness to possibilities—from new opportunities for artists, spaces, viewers, and interactions, to cultivating new art worlds and displacing old ones.

When other artists or viewers attend these events/situations with reciprocal openness, new communities and dialogues can emerge. For example, Obsolete Californias, by Shipping and Receiving (the moniker of collaborative duo Torreya Cummings and Heather Smith) was part-exhibition, part-event space/social space/store/wrestling mat. Amanda Curreri‘s Jean Genet in the Aunque  is a conversation in the form of a participatory reading; parts are available for all attendees.* These events/situations were more like platforms for artists and viewers to enact possibilities alongside each other. In this way, artist and viewer roles can be shed for the roles of citizens of temporary communities, or dialogists.

So what artists make happen are opportunities for shared aesthetic, intellectual, emotional, and communicative engagement and action. The engagement is shared, as there is mutual investment of attention and space for cooperative action.

This week, articles in the Village Voice and the NY Times bemoaned the vast influx of money in art. Art auctions, art fairs, and mega-galleries that show works collected by the 1% are part of the art world, but equating them with the art world (as the Voice writer did) or only reviewing those exhibitions and fairs (as some NYT writers tend) are mistakes.

As Csikszentmihalyi points out, our most valuable currency is not money, but psychic energy—in other words, our attentions.

There are multiple art worlds. In mine, art auctions, secondary markets, and multi-million dollar transactions are on the periphery. I focus my attention on the center, which is abundant with artists, especially those who make things happen.

*Included in The Aunque, on now through February 16 at Romer Young Gallery, San Francisco, CA.

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Meta-Practice

Call for Artists: Open Cube

Well, this sounds interesting:

An open submission to exhibit at a super-posh, A-list gallery in London, to be selected by an independent curator.

Leading contemporary art gallery White Cube has invited São Paulo-based curator Adriano Pedrosa to curate an exhibition at their Mason’s Yard gallery, London, in July 2013. Pedrosa’s project, titled Open Cube, will attempt to infiltrate the hierarchies of the gallery system by inviting any interested artists to submit works to be included in the exhibition. By opening up the selection process, Pedrosa wishes to unsettle the system of gallery practices, initiating a dialogue with artists that might not have access to this network.

During my single visit to White Cube, I found it perfectly designed, installed, and maintained—and, as these kinds of galleries often are—completely imposing. I felt like my sensible sneakers and backpack was mucking up the super-elite, size-0 atmosphere. This open call is different, and exciting. Even if they pick a commercial-ready artist who makes high-value art commodities, the call is free; it only costs artists a bit of time (10-30 minutes, depending how organized you are) to get your images seen by an international curator. Seems like a no-brainer—the only catch is that they’re looking for art already in London. Restrictions like these improve your odds, London artists! Go get ’em!

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Art Competition Odds, Meta-Practice

Art Competition Oddities

Most of the time, I don’t give too much thought to the art competition application process, but a recent application presented two discrepancies that made me take notice.

First, the entry fee was published as $10, but the slide management content management system (CMS) charged $20. This wasn’t a deal-breaker for me, but price variations like that erode my trust a teensy bit.

Second, the application requirements asked for the names of references, with the condition that reference letters would only be requested on behalf of the artists who are selected for a residency. However, the CMS automatically sent requests for letters to the references during the application process.

The additional $10 is a cost I can bear, but I would have been much more sparing with the time, labor, and good will of my esteemed references.

I hope to minimize how much work I ask of these supporters. They are curators and administrators of small alternative arts organizations that are often stretched thin. I can’t imagine how many artists ask them for their time and labor to help them with these favors. I certainly would not want them to do any unnecessary work, especially over the holidays when they are getting much-deserved down time, as was this case. I was embarrassed to impose upon them, especially when I decided to complete the form shortly before the deadline. Had I known about an off-the-bat request, I would have weighed my decision to apply differently.

Online submissions beat hardcopies, however, user interface design and skills are still developing. I sent these notes to the organization; hopefully they’ll get it sorted for next year’s annual call.

Here’s a big cheer to those arts organizations who do it right — who mind their p’s and q’s as closely as they’d want applicants to.

And loads of gratitude to those unsung supporters who help artists and jurors turn open calls into real-life opportunities and experiences. Cheers to you!

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Meta-Practice

Goals: Looking back, looking forward

Be strategically optimistic. Imagine and implement advantageous conditions.

In 2012, I inserted these goals and attitude reminders into my rotating desktop photos:

  • Be active and injury-free.
  • Forgive.
  • Do six studio visits.
  • Enter [art] competitions.
  • Have a strong show of killer new work.
  • Make work that answers, “What would I do with a solo show?”
  • Be open [to new experiences].
  • Practice kindness.
  • Embrace adventure.
  • Practice gratitude, not garbage.
  • Be strategically optimistic. Imagine and implement advantageous conditions.

Most of these were attended to with solid efforts, to varying degrees of success. Many will require more time, intention and attention. I take it as a sign that these are good reminders for me, as they are not too easily achieved nor unrealistically ambitious.

All still seem like good ideas to carry forward into 2013. They’re what positive psychologists call “self-concordant”—rather than reflecting societal demands, they are aligned with my professional and personal goals.

If you’re thinking about making New Year’s resolutions, Creative Capital’s goal-setting tips might be useful. I have been using their goal-setting strategies for the past few years and highly recommend that artists espouse and maintain the practice. It is like plotting a course on an open sea.

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