On Studio Space, Clean Sheets, and Pride Henny Work
I just changed my sheets, slipped into shorts and am now lying down typing on my laptop with the posture of a shrimp. I’ve placed a book on the foot of my bed to tempt me to start it (starting things has been a challenge lately). If I turn my head to the right, I stare at my bedroom door—it reminds me that I should think about what’s for dinner, to take out the trash, that I need to pee. If I turn my head to the left, the light from outside is reflecting off of my plants in a way that makes me feel like a wistful kept woman with consumption or something. I am calling this “studio time.”
Earlier today I was thinking about “making” and where I do it. Coincidentally, I later had a work-related conversation about a program for POC artists to build studio space (with what they have, while acknowledging class and access and resources) as part of the Pandemic Pedagogy Projects with Artists’ Literacies Institute. Some artists had access to real estate, others had bedrooms. TLDR: I realized making memes on my bed, or writing shit at my little desk, or researching and applying and making can all be considered studio time even though I’m doing it in a bedroom.
This, as usual, has me thinking about class and access. How do semantics and language shape how we value what we do—as artists, as working-class or poor makers? The language we use for ourselves can either free us or limit us. The Academy and the Institution don’t own how I make my work, so I’d like to put my energy towards creating new ways of thinking about it, talking about it, doing it. IDK maybe I do have consumption. Either way, it was refreshing to think about this gentle reframing of language around my space and what I do in it. Oh, you want a studio visit? Great, my sheets are clean, henny.
Sometimes I feel like I am not “doing it” because I’m not renting out a studio. Understanding that I am still doing the work, still making, still applying and coordinating with what I have, somehow makes me feel more impressive than less.
The summer always comes with little bouts of depression and reflection for me. Growing-up, I would learn to craft ways to make my summer seem impressive even if I didn’t travel or do anything elaborate; now, I still find myself navigating conversations with rich people as they talk about their plans for elaborate, multi-pronged vacations. I am realizing that class shame and working-class guilt can often leave me feeling like the creative work I’m doing isn’t enough, or even that it is too frivolous. TBH I am looking forward to telling the rich gays returning from obtuse trips to Tel Aviv that I’ve been busy working in the studio.
Pride Month, in all its modern day bastardizations, brings up a lot of this for me too. I am lucky to live in a city that provides access to many opportunities that work for me. However, as vast as “queerness” is, there is still an often myopic understanding of what it means to be a “queer artist,” at least in an institutional sense. For so many organizations, LGBTQ artists are expected to lead with their struggle, their labels, and their pain, when in reality, I’d just like you to let me use the F slur when I want and be paid for my work.
It seems the Pride Trademark in its mainstream iterations brings out this ideal, palpable, digestible understanding of queerness. And while I will argue that representation is important, ensuring a vastness of representation is vital. The work I am interested in is much messier, more subtle, stupid, and finicky than sparkle sparkle slay mama boots rich donors come in and give money to feel good about themselves don’t ask them where it came from.
This is mostly for me, but fuck those people and those notions. And that’s what Pride means to me. HAGS LYLAS
OPPORTUNITIES, OPEN CALLS, THINGS TO SEE, THE TITLE OF THIS SECTION ALWAYS CHANGES:
Celebrate Pride with Miss Lady Salad and I’m Going to Marry Your Dad
Our show is tomorrow! I think there are maybe 2 tickets left online, but there will be walk-up tickets available. Would love to see you there. Invite Jerry Saltz if you want.
Das Sofortvergnügen at The Tank: This show is VERY good. There is one more chance to see it on Saturday, 06/25 and I strongly suggest doing it!
Apply to the Exponential Festival: I really loved my experience with the Exponential Festival, and really encourage you to apply or share with theater/performance makers in NYC.
Library of Congress Community Collections Grant: “The Community Collections Grants from the American Folklife Center (AFC) fund and support contemporary cultural field research and documentation within diverse communities. Available to Individuals and Organizations, the grants offer up to $50,000 each to support projects within their communities to produce ethnographic cultural documentation, such as of interviews with community members and audio-visual recordings of cultural activity, from the community perspective. The center will archive the collections from grant projects to preserve and showcase this rich and valuable cultural documentation, expanding its representation and inclusion of contemporary cultural expressions and traditions that may otherwise be absent from the national record.”
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