Holleian Symposium: Post-Presentation Response

On Monday I presented a paper titled "Finding Balance in Dialogical Work: Learning to Love You More" during the Holleian Symposium at Transylvania University. This paper uses the Learning To Love You More project by artists Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher as a case study for how a balance can and needs to be achieved between the artist, participant, and viewer in participatory art. After my presentation I was asked a few questions that in retrospective I did not address fully/did not really know how to respond at the time. So I am going to do that now. While this presentation was not a direct result of the course I am currently taking, the material is certainly related.

Question:
Since the participant becomes the artist, what makes the artist the artist? (Essentially what make the artist special)

My initial response to this question was that the artist initiates the relationship. This initiation or "first step" makes the artist the artist. And while I still hold by this I should have also responded by including this: In the LTLYM project Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher maintain their status as artist by creating the assignments. They are the ones giving the assignments. The participants are then the executors of these assignments. And yes, the act of executing these assignments turn these participants into artists, the ultimate design of the project comes from the vision of Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher. If they had not initiated the project, it would not exist. They had a vision and provided the opportunity for it to grow. This is not to say that the project was not affected by its participants, because it was, but rather that the July and Fletcher developed it and then watched over it and helped it grow.

Second note:
It is up to the artist to be open to influence from participants. The artist is also capable of ruining the real worth of participatory art (which I see as the relationship formed with participants) by denying these influences. But at the same time it is up to the artist to provide a framework for which the participants can, well, participate. This is what makes the artist the artist and the participant the participant/artist.

Here are some additional things to help make some of this make more sense:

Original Relationship Between Artist, Art, and Viewer

Relationship Between Artist and Viewer in Participatory Art

Photographing the Community: Sarah Hoskins

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=126246445

The above link is for an article/video found on NPR's website about Sarah Hoskins, a local Lexingtonite who has been photographing the small towns that she has come to call "The Hometown". These small communities are the contemporary spaces created by freed slaves in the 1860's and 1870's.

The article raised some questions for me about community engaged art that I had not really considered before. At the end of the article the article mentions that Hoskins is considering wrapping the project up. But how can she do that? I'm not saying she shouldn't, just how does that work out. How can she stop working with the community? In the article it mentions over and over how she is now a part of those communities. She is considered family. Does the nature of her project change when she stops it? Especially if she continues to use the photographs after she stops taking them? Does the relationship switch? How does she tell the community that clearly loves her that she is done? What will the reaction be?

I think this is a major dilemma artist's face when working with the community. Gaining the trust of community takes time and commitment. When it ends it seems almost like a break up and possibly a betrayal. Yet, the an artist shouldn't have to give up one's whole life for this work. Or should they? And why or why not?

Some prevent this dilemma from becoming an issue by setting a deadline in the beginning. Documentary film makers often do that. But what happens if the trust isn't developed within that time line or if something outside of the time line occurs that could lead to more interesting information and better material for the project. Or something else comes up that could be used by the artist that would be better for the community. Doesn't that time line limit as much if not more than the potential bad break up with the community can/does?

Viewpoints, Scavenger Hunts and Maybe Some Other Things

Elizabeth and I have been reading The Viewpoints Book: A practical guide to viewpoints and composition which I have found very intriguing. It focuses on building group connection and a non-hierarchical structure of practice. It breaks movement down into 9 elements (tempo, duration, kinesthetic response, repetition, architecture, shape, spatial relationship, topography, and gesture) and covers a few vocal elements that I haven't quite got to yet.

I really like the section in chapter three that addresses collaboration. I think it applies to all collaborative endeavors:

"The word 'want' used habitually and without consciousness of the consequences, constructs a parent/child relationship in rehearsal. This parent/child relationship limits resiliency, rigor and maturity in the creative process and inhibits true collaboration.

Can the artistic process be collaborative? Can a group of strong-minded individuals together ask what the play or project wants rather than depending upon the hierarchical domination of one person? Of course a project needs structure and a sense of direction but can the leader aim for discovery rather than staging a replica of what s/he has decided beforehand? Can we resist proclaiming 'what it is' long enough to authentically ask: 'What is it?'"
-The Viewpoints Book pp 18

This is what I hope The Fairy Tale Project achieves. I hope to co-direct in a way that allows for discovery and meeting the project's needs as opposed to my own wants. To work collectively instead of forcing my own vision for the project. Are we achieving this? I certainly hope so.

Today, instead of a traditional rehearsal we organized a scavenger hunt that had people traipsing around downtown Lexington in the rain to the public library, the Lexington History Museum, the farmer's market, and third street. At each place the teams had to complete a task. I had hoped to plan it a little better but the bad weather early on this morning cut back our time to set things up. But it all worked out. I think the hunt was frustrating for some and invigorating for others. I think both are good. Frustration can be good even though it might not seem so at first.