When I was 11 I participated in a pro-life demonstration. We held signs adorned with bloody fetuses and messages like “Stop Killing Babies!” and “End Abortion Now”. Cars honked and we cheered. When I bragged about it at home later, I was met with contempt. Earlier that day, my bible studies teacher told us that there were people out there murdering babies. They showed us photos, put signs in our hands, and dropped us preteen gals off in the blistering Oklahoma sun. That evening I listened to my mom intently – “You could have died today Melissa!” “Crazy people could have run yall over!” “It’s none of your business what other women do with their bodies.” My first ethical dilemma ensued.
Me getting schooled by Professor Doctor Hoffman in an art history seminar called Exercise in Front of Originals.
If art was a religion, do you think that you would fight and die for it? I know a woman who would. I’ve often heard artists say that their work is just as important to them as their family and that they should never be forced to choose between them. But what if we had to choose a side? At the start of this millennium, art’s Blessed Mother gave birth to “the curatorial” and since then the standard for art has forever changed. Maria Lind is a Swedish curator, writer, critic, and educator. Some may even call Lind an art assassin!
Still Life with Fish and Grapes 2002, mixed media collage, Collaboration with Vanessa Jack
Like the deceptive truth of a photograph, theory and beauty tie the knot when it comes to Lind’s research. Her work takes you on a conceptual journey with a destination to somewhere else. Like Prometheus formed humans from clay, Lind formed growing activism from exhibitions. When I interned at the New Museum’s curatorial department in 2008, I did so for Maria and for Marcia Tucker who also gorgeously praised and vehemently critiqued art at a moment’s notice. In a panel there, Lind’s opening sentence shot at the hosts as she proclaimed that the work of the education department was far more interesting than its curatorial counterpart. This gave me goosebumps. One person challenging an assembly I belonged to was an exhilarating moment.
Untitled (family) 2002, expanding foam and jumpsuits
Untitled (blow ups) 2002, expanding foam and textiles, dimensions vary
Interdisciplinarity is an inherent part of the sculptural process and to develop its manifestation means adding resources and skills. Lind’s conceptual attitude taught me that art has to be more than what we can possibly imagine it can be. It made me also question whether my work is really making the world a more interesting place or not. Is the studio enough for my intellectual and spiritual development as an artist? I first saw Lind lecture at the academy in 2002 with her lethal white hair and head-to-toe black attire. I had just run away from appropriation and Lacanian psychoanalysis in Los Angeles and I was making work about cultural offerings in these volumetric forms that referenced Maus’ The Gift, which Maria of course knew well.
Crystal Collage (blue) 2004, 10cm x 10cm
My studio practice is a daily process, which is certainly therapeutic but also very contemplative. Themes arise, materials are handled, subjects spring forth mentally and physically. Recently I returned to modeling more realistic figures instead of abstract ones to tell a more concrete story about the female body and material agency that’s important. Lind’s contribution to the art world is extraordinary. Her work with her team of “Sputniks” at the Kunstverein München, Bard College, Moderna Museet, and at Tensta Konsthall Stockholm reimagined the museum through a collaborative brainstorming process. Ultimately her dialogical approach draws in research, cutting-edge ideas, and new aesthetics. I subscribe to her desire is to make the museum a functional space where people want to be. It’s ok to throw some shade at the antiquarians to embrace today’s world but not to ignore them. Ideas don’t start or end with a single work of art but emerge from experiencing the work through life itself.
Still Life with Bird and Grapes 2002, mixed media collage, Collaboration with Vanessa Jack
I sometimes wonder what would have happened at bible school that day if I had asked an interrogative question like – Why is abortion legal? Or why are you dropping us off on the side of the road without sunscreen? Like the insurrection of the curatorial, nothing new arrives without its doppelgängers – post-postmodern display. I’ve often wondered why there aren’t more public figures like Lind and Tucker challenging the system more openly today? I assume most of us want to experience the thrilling conceptual framework of an exhibition, twists, and turns within the architecture, theme, and content. We all want art to thrive and speak for us. It seems clear that everybody would benefit from a Lind laboratory franchise wrapped in a warm blanket of critique and lying in a bed of Hej!
Still Life with Green Beans and Wine 2002, mixed media collage, Collaboration with Vanessa Jack
