Considerations

Some Ways of Art’s Working

Writing for the Toronto Star, Chris Hampton has crafted an attentive survey some of the works in Nep Sidhu’s Medicine for a Nightmare (they called, we responded) exhibition. What interests me about Sidhu’s practice in general, and what is exemplified in this new body of work, is the concern he has for exploring the many processes at play in building a relationship to the past, and how this kind of inheritance is reshaped by the practices of life as it continues to unfold. Hampton picks up on this same thread:

Across media — be it metalwork, sculpture, jewelry design, rug-making or the couture sported onstage and off by artists, futurists and mystics like Shabazz Palaces and Erykah Badu — Sidhu is intensely committed to craft. The 40-year-old practitioner is a student of its histories and techniques. It is his vehicle for time travel, bridging various ancestries to the future imaginary.

I believe that Sidhu’s work encourages a specific, embodied understanding of the history he invokes, showing history as an unsettled thing, both for himself and others. In pointing to the need to continue the telling of what has shaped us, perhaps it is that these stories may shape others and, in turn, be reshaped themselves.

Hampton’s article can be found here.

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Happenings

Medicine for a Nightmare (they called, we responded)

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I can’t tell you how excited I am for the opening of Nep Sidhu’s Medicine for a Nightmare (they called, we responded), a solo show featuring mostly new works that I have had the privilege of curating. This thing is a true labour of love!

Medicine for a Nightmare (they called, we responded) focuses on Sidhu’s politicized use of textiles to conjure coalition beyond the structures that currently shape civic society, taking the 1984 massacre of Sikh people in India as its foundation. Known as Operation Blue Star, this military event resulted in the death of thousands of Sikh people—a religious minority in India—as well as the deaths of many others. Orchestrated by the Indian government to counter militant activist movements that sought to address the impoverished economic, social and political conditions of life for Sikh people in India, the raid unfolded at the Harmandir Sahib, a Sikh holy site.

Sidhu’s exhibition departs from this recent history to assert the resilience of Sikh people, both as a testament to their faith and as a response to inhumane political brutalities. Commemorating the spiritual role of tending to life in common, he has created a new body of work that includes a major tapestry, Medicine for a Nightmare (2019), that continues his When My Drums Come Knocking They Watch series. By examining to the cultural role that percussion plays across cultures as a symbol of inheritance and becoming, Sidhu conjures a beat that carries ancestral connections forward in time. The exhibition also includes a new sculptural work, Formed in the Divine, Divine of Form (2019), that is charged with exemplifying the practices of community responsibility that characterize Sikh temple kitchens and cultivate cooperation through the practice of seva (selfless service). As gestures of memorialization, Medicine for a Nightmare (they called, we responded) participates in a continuum of material and memorial practices that seek to redress the 1984 massacre and the engineered attempts at erasure of the Sikh communities that followed it.

Medicine for a Nightmare (they called, we responded) also features works produced in dialogue with artists Nicholas Galanin and Maikoiyo Alley-Barnes, frequent collaborators of Sidhu’s.

Join us at Mercer Union on Friday, 08 February 2019 at 19:00 and consider how it is that you build relationships to the past, and how history is reformed through the habits and practices of everyday life.

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Happenings

Entertaining Every Second

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Tonight in Saskatoon, Entertaining Every Second opens at AKA Artist-Run Centre.  The solo show features the work of Life of a Craphead, which is the collaborative practice of Amy Lam and Jon McCurely, and it has been curated by Su-Ying Lee and myself. It’s an exhibition that looks critically at how racialization circulates through cultural production. In particular, the show labours to interrupt how determinations of aesthetic value can obscure the social repercussions of a work’s circulation in the world, especially when that work might perpetuate racist stereotypes. In this sense, Life of a Craphead are taking on the works of other artists. However, what makes this show especially powerful are the ways that Life of a Craphead direct that critical impulse back at themselves, interrogating their own intimate, familial and artistic inclinations. It will make you laugh (maybe) and it will make you cry (probably).

As part of the exhibition, Life of a Craphead have instigated a relationship between AKA and the dumpling house next door, Jin Jin Cuisine. Starting tonight, and persisting until either organization ceases to exist, AKA will collaborate with Jin Jin to cater their openings. AKA is located in the historical Chinatown neighbourhood of Saskatoon, a part of town that, like many Chinatowns across Canada, is undergoing a process of gentrification. In some small way, the hope is that this relationship can be mutually sustaining. Plus, the food is crazy delicious and AKA is lucky as hell to get to serve Jin Jin’s food, from now until eternity.

Join us tonight! The opening starts at 8PM, but perhaps you wanna check out Julie Oh’s artist talk next door at PAVED Arts first, which starts at at 7PM.

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Considerations

Best of 2018

I am thrilled that Rosemary Heather has included I continue to shape on her NOW Magazine list of best exhibitions in Toronto for 2018. It is a strange thing to make an exhibition but then not be able to live with it. That being said, it is good to know that the propositions of this show resonated for Heather, and hopefully for many other folks who had the chance to see it. Although the exhibition is now closed, I am still working through the propositions the artists made through their works, considering how to exploit moments of cultures in collision to tell the stories of history differently, to tell them through the concerns of recovery and reconfiguration. And so begins a list of goals for 2019!

Shout out also to Vulture who included I continue to shape on a list of exhibitions to check out in lieu of the insanity of Art Basel Miami Beach—if one were up for exchanging eternal summertime for a winter wonderland.

 

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Considerations

Circumventing Inclusion

ArtsEverywhere published an essay by Yaniya Lee this week entitled “Tactics and strategies of racialized artists: some notes on how to circumvent the art world’s terms of inclusion.” Working as an editor on the piece, I had the privilege of thinking alongside Lee as she enumerated a few of the strategies that she and her peers use to jam a cultural machine that oftentimes only wants the perspectives and practices of BIPOC artists/writers/cultural workers to the extent that they can represent diversity.  She asks, “What if all of the inclusive and diverse exhibitions that have been curated, all of the critical essays that have been written, and all of the self-congratulatory diversity panels and talks that have been hosted ultimately had no effect whatsoever on the structural make-up of cultural institutions in Canada?” And then she answers back with a toolbox of tactics that tend to the self-determination of BIPOC artists while simultaneously destabilizing structures that operate under false pretences of neutrality. Instead of inclusion within these same old systems, Lee proposes to dismantle their ideological foundations through processes of complication, care and refusal, serving the rise of something else in the wake. Something otherwise.

 

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Happenings

I continue to shape

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Nicholas Galanin
“Things Are Looking Native, Native’s Looking Whiter,”
2012. Giclée. Courtesy of the artist.

A long time in the making, I am thrilled to share information about I continue to shape, an exhibition I have curated that will open at the Art Museum at the University of Toronto this September. Produced under the tremendous guidance of Barbara Fischer, this exhibition will feature works by Maria Thereza Alves, Cathy Busby, Justine A. Chambers with Deanna Bowen + Ame Henderson + Jessica Karuhanga, Nicholas Galanin, Maria Hupfield, Lisa Myers, Mickalene Thomas, Joseph Tisiga and Charlene Vickers.

Expanding upon a longstanding interest of mine, the central concern of this exhibition is how the propositions embedded within artistic practices can act as gravity around which new ways of being in relation can coalesce. Consider this: history, like all stories, is told slant, subject to distortion by those with the power to represent it. In the telling, certain characters are foregrounded and certain power dynamics are obscured, leaving certain other characters—their perspectives and experiences—cast out of this immortal glow. And yet, it seems that aesthetic practices bear a specific capacity to transform the sediment of history into something moving once again, to puncture what seems solid, to redirect the light.

I continue to shape looks to the practices of artists as a means of working toward futures otherwise. By challenging colonial habits and tending to the labour that such re-orientation implies, these artists envision expanded aesthetic and political narratives, alternative forms of community building and belonging, and propose survival strategies up to the tasks at hand in shaping a world more tender, more just and more unsettled than the world we have now.

If you are in Toronto this autumn, please join me at the opening on 05 September 2018, 6–8 PM, which will feature a performance by Charlene Vickers. The show will remain up until 08 December 2018, with a robust slate of public programs along the way, including activations, talks and workshops.

Come and let’s consider how else to understand our role in upholding or dismantling the structures we have inherited, and how we are capable of shaping personal and cultural relationships anew.

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Considerations

Krista Belle Stewart’s “Seraphine, Seraphine”

I’ve had the luck of seeing Krista Belle Stewart’s video installation Seraphine, Seraphine twice: first at the Esker Foundation in 2013 as part of the Fiction/Non-Fiction exhibition, and then again in 2015 at Mercer Union in a solo presentation of the piece. In the five years since I first experienced Stewart’s work, which is kind of biography of her mother, I have continually come back to it as a profound articulation of strength and resistance, and as an example of what effects art might produce through encounter.

This week, ArtsEverywhere has published “From Where do You Speak?: Locating the Possibility of Decolonization in Krista Belle Stewart’s Seraphine, Seraphine,” an essay I have spent many years writing that attempts a deep reading of the video work, both on its own terms and through the world we live in today, which is a post-TRC, post-Canada 150 country in the midst of a widespread social and political paradigm shift away from settler colonial plunder, or so I hope. As provoked by Stewart’s work, I wonder:

What if a decolonial, Indigenized Canada is made from the twinned imperatives of decolonization on the behalf of settlers and self-determination on behalf of Aboriginal peoples? While these processes are inextricably bound yet distinct from each other, their conjunction recognizes the fact that a decolonized future must start with the self-determination of Indigenous people: despite the fact that decolonization is the task of the colonizing settler, it is not settler-articulated. Decolonization demands a robust relationality between settler and Indigenous populations, and most important for the task at hand is the capacity of settlers to listen, to receive, to be deeply uncomfortable, to recognize themselves as estranged from the skewed history presented in textbooks, to feel alienated from a sense of righteous belonging and to cede powers and privileges that have been ill-gotten.

There is so much profound work to be done in regards to making some sort of decolonial future possible—cross-culturally, legally, spatially, aesthetically, and in regards to repatriating land and resources to Indigenous communities—and it is my sincere belief that cultural forms, such as this work by Stewart, are part of what will make these endeavours legible to the many people that now call this place home, settler and Indigenous alike.

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