Art, Activism, & Community by Suzy Gonzalez

By Suzy Gonzalez1

This zine is the first in a series that I created for my Independent Study Project in the Spring semester of 2014. It is the result of wanting to merge my life as an artist with activism and community efforts. There is much to be done on my part, and this zine serves as an introductory platform for me to sort out the possibilities of working with these topics within my art. These issues are informed by my regular curriculum as well as outside readings, lectures, and events. Zine making allows me to express my opinions and provides an outlet for recreational writings to manifest. I hope that you enjoy this issue and that you are motivated to explore different ways in which activism and community may find their way into your practice as well. 2

Table of Contents Embracing Gray Matter as Artistic Identity...........................................4 NYC Feminist Zine Fest 2014 Review.....................................................8 Safe Spaces: What are They and How do They Pertain to Me?.............10 Creative Community...........................................................................12 Favianna Rodriguez...........................................................................16 Feminist Discourse and Art as Activism...............................................18

as artistic identity In Gregory Sholette’s 2002 article, Heart of Darkness, he separates the elite

art world from the artwork known as “Dark Matter.” This term refers to most of the world’s art, which is not of the highest elite. From my understanding, Dark Matter may include hobbyists, “Sunday” painters, overtly political art, zines, and art within the community. It is any art that exists outside of and is largely unseen by the dominant art market. As I am enrolled in the MFA Painting program at RISD, yet am also interested in political art, zines, and community efforts, I am in the process of coming to terms with my place in the grander “Art World.”

If it were not for the hegemony of society and the institutions within society,

we would not feel the need to label every type of artist as either/or. I think that Sholette coined the term Dark Matter in attempt to avoid the high art/low art binary, but he ends up creating one of his own in the form of the elite art market vs. Dark Matter. Sholette defines the art world as “the integrated, trans-national economy of auction houses, dealers, collectors, international biennials, and trade publications that, together with curators, artists and critics, reproduce the market, as well as the discourse that influences the appreciation and demand for highly valuable artwork” (3). Notice how many monetary terms are in this definition: economy, auction, dealers, collectors, market, demand, and valuable. His idea of the art world is one in 4

which consumerism is the central motivation. If art is not created for the purpose of monetary gain, then it appears it does not fit into this definition of the art world.

Sociologist, Howard Becker, on the other hand, recognizes that the art world

“requires an ‘extensive division of labor’ and ‘elaborate cooperation’ among many people: artists, critics, gallery owners, librarians, teachers, audiences, and even those who make the tools of the trade (ink, canvas, paints)” (Kimmel 733). Most importantly, Becker sees that “talent’ is a social construct” (Kimmel 733). Within the market, the decision of whether or not something may be defined as art is dependent on those who consider and/or purchase it as such. The hobbyist may create what they consider art, but since they are viewed as Dark Matter, the higher ups will not perceive them in the same way. Unfortunately, “given a group of similar looking aesthetic products there will ultimately be just one that is considered truly significant in art historical and therefore collectible terms” (Sholette 6).

There is plenty of artwork containing cultural significance that is not treated

with respect in the realm of art. This is commonly due to opportunities that fail to arise due to an artist’s education, race, gender, ability, background, etc. It is important to recognize that most artists and makers do not truthfully fall solely on one side of the Dark Matter/elite art world duality. I find myself identifying as more of a Gray Matter artist. The Gray Matter label is almost the lack of a label, and can be used to describe the inner complexities that run between a number of problematic binary labels. Within the arts, Gray Matter can define anyone who proclaims that their work truly is art, no matter what any critic may say about it. It can include those who are educated in the arts, but do not look down upon artists who lack the opportunity for such an education. It can include those who enjoy craftwork, activist art, or painting pictures of sunsets their entire life. It is a nonexclusive label that denies hierarchical or pyramidal structures. Gray Matter is a label that refuses the superficial distinctions between different artists and the work they create. It rejects the notion of outsider art, which might as well be called the art of the “Other.” It is 5

about having a more open mind towards artists that do not have the privilege of signing with a gallery, showing in museums, or selling their work for millions. It’s about respecting those that don’t have all of that, and also those who don’t want any part of that.

I find that identity labels can be very personal, meaningful, and empowering

to the individual when they are self-given. Conversely, when they are brought on by someone else, they have both limiting and offensive tendencies. Gray Matter advocates for a loosely based self-proclaimed identity that can be fitted to each distinct individual artist. Becker, Howard Saul. Art Worlds. Berkeley: University of California, 1982. Print. Kimmel, Michael S. “Art Worlds Review.” JSTOR. Chicago Journals, Nov. 1983. Web. 10 Mar. 2014. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/2779026>. Sholette, Gregory. “Heart of Darkness: A Journey into the Dark Matter of the Art World.” Visual Worlds. By John R. Hall, Blake Stimson, and Lisa Tamiris. Becker. London: Routledge, 2005. 116-38. Print

NYC Feminist Zine Fest On March 1st, 2014, Barnard College held it’s second annual NYC Feminist Zine Fest. I had the privilege of tabling for a zine that I co-publish with Elle Minter called Yes, Ma’am. As she could not make it, our yoga page contributor, Candice Hammack, was happy to join. I have tabled at zine fests before, but never in a large room full of zine makers specifically dedicated to feminism. It’s a surreally comfortable feeling to be surounded with so many like-minded people. The zinester community is represented by those who have much to say and who take it upon themselves to say it. It can generally be considered a safe space in which there is an unsaid feeling of mutual respect. Some popular zine themes at the fest included activism, reproductive rights, trans experience, body image, queer community, self-care, and issues of gender all around. Some zines that I picked up (and whose creators I hope to send this zine to) include: Hoax, Issue #5: Feminisms and Community Evolution of a Race Riot You’re (Still) Doing it Wrong, Volume 2: “Lady Drag” Homos in Herstory: 1980s Edition Stitching Together, Special Edition Thou Shalt Not Talk About the White Boys’ Club: Challenging the Unwritten Rules of Punk

Oh, and did I mention that Barnard College has their own zine library? There are over 1400 zines available to read and around 4000 in their archive.

And some organizations to keep up with: Papercut Zine Library in Cambridge MA – “a fully functioning lending library, open to the public. We have over 15,000 zines, independent newspapers, books, magazines, and audio/visual works. The library is run by a non-hierarchical collective of volunteer librarians.” Interference Archive in Brooklyn, NY- “explores the relationship between social movements and cultural production. The archive holds a collection of thousands of publications, posters, fliers, zines, banners, buttons, audiovisual recordings, and more, created by activists engaged in struggles worldwide.” Homoground – “dedicated to promoting equality and visibility for all people through music and art while maintaining a creative medium for queer & allied artists and music lovers worldwide.” La Casa Azul Bookstore in New York, NY– “dedicated to providing cultural, and educational programs via literature and art in East Harlem. It is our vision to foster public awareness and appreciation of the arts by being a focal point where people come to find unique art and books; and participate in culturally-based programs that celebrate Latino traditions and literature.” For the Birds – “NYC-based feminist collective working to combat social inequality and challenge all forms of oppression through an intersectional feminist analysis of power both within our collective and in our larger society.”

Here’s a whole bunch of websites so that you can follow the amazing and active people, zines, and organizations mentioned above:

Vector by Michael Menchaca

The Barnard Zine Club publishes a zine called Sticks & Stones

yesmaam27.com candicehammackyoga.com hoaxzine.tumblr.com threadandcircuits.wordpress.com swinku.tumblr.com etsy.com/people/CaptainElvis heyanniemok.tumblr.com wemakezines.ning.com/profile/SariofHoax papercutzinelibrary.org/wordpress interferencearchive.org homoground.com lacasaazulbookstore.com zines.barnard.edu/blog feministzinefestnyc.wordpress.com

Safe Spaces

What are they and how do they pertain to me?

When organizing events one may feel the need to include that it will be held at a “safe space.” These progressive spaces originate from the necessity to have places where women may freely voice their opinions. They are now spaces where LGBTQ identifying individuals and allies may feel welcome and free from harassment or violence. Furthermore, it may include the safeness for racial minorities, those with physical or mental disabilities, or anyone who feels as if they are sometimes unwelcome in public spaces. These spaces exist to provide a sense of community made up of compassionate individuals who are proactive advocators of a nonjudgmental mentality. Yes it seems fairly ideal, but the possibility of their existence is reassuring for those who may feel outcast among typical societal standards. Within safe spaces, one must not assume another’s experiences or identity labels, and must be actively sensitive to understanding another’s unique intersectionalities. I have been thinking about what constitutes a safe space for me. Being in Grad. School with artists is sometimes as if we are all in the same boat. Many of us don’t know where we’ll be after this, we’re all trying to improve upon our work, we recognize that the art world is incredibly competitive, and have anxieties about where we fit into all of it. It seems that outside of a classroom setting we are more relatable and can safely speak to one another about these concerns. However, within the classroom, and especially within critiques, I’m not sure I can say the same. There is a definite respect for each other, but there is not that nonjudgmental mentality at all. The very point of artistic critique is to judge another’s work, and hopefully add some sort of constructive advice. I have experienced multiple microaggressions within the critique or studio visit setting. Microaggressions are small acts of non-physical aggressions within specific interactions between those of different races, cultures, or genders. I have been collecting these moments, and they are soon to manifest within my work. Making art is a very personal endeavor, and the moment someone else begins to talk about it, they are not only judging the work, but they are judging the maker. This is not me attacking the system of the artistic critique, but only realizing that it is one place that I would not consider a safe-space. 10

I wonder if a feminist oriented critique would differ at all. I do think if there was more of a common connection between artists, then I would be given opinions from within my subject matter, not without. In Liz Lerman’s book, Critical Response Process, she proposes a new system of giving and receiving feedback on almost anything. It is meant to empower artists through the use of non-threatening critical responses. In a regular critique setting, you speak whenever you want, but in her model, one must ask the artist if, for example, they want to hear an opinion about their use of color. They are in control and can choose whether or not specific observations are even wanted. A safe space for me is one in which I feel welcome to voice my opinions without fear of retaliation. It is one in which I attempt to be nonjudgmental of others as well, but it cannot be found in most classroom settings. This is not to say that judgments and assumptions are completely unheard of within safe spaces, but at least these attempts are accepted within certain communities. If someone wrongs you within one of these spaces, rather than expressing contempt, it may be an opportunity to educate and further the progression of an empathetic culture. Or, if you’re like me, you may just hold it inside for a while and paint about it later. Lerman, Liz, and John Borstel. Liz Lerman’s Critical Response Process: A Method for Getting Useful Feedback on Anything You Make, from Dance to Dessert. Takoma Park, MD: Liz Lerman Dance Exchange, 2003. Print.

Creative Community It can sometimes be a difficult task to draw a line between art and activism. Some art deals with social justice issues or seeks to defy the status quo. Some community workers look for artists to collaborate with so that there’s an added creative element. Can the former be considered activism? Can the latter be considered art? In Creative Community: The Art of Cultural Development, Arlene Goldbard defines the term ‘community cultural development’ as describing “a range of initiatives undertaken by artists in collaboration with other community members to express identity, concerns and aspirations through the arts and communications media, while building cultural capacity and contributing to social change” (115). This term serves as a platform where both activists and community artists may feel welcome. Although her theories are welcoming to artists working within the community, they tend to undervalue artists within institutions with claims that “Artists have roles as agents of transformation that are more socially valuable than mainstream art-world roles—and certainly equal in legitimacy” (24). Although much of the artworld is money obsessed and at times exploitative, that does not mean that culture and social values cannot be created by the work within it. I believe that art has the ability to create culture regardless of where the artist fits in on the social hierarchy of the art world. If a person “asserts one’s standing as an artist,” and says that what they create is art, then their self-proclaimed identity and work is enough for me (25). I recall a student in Undergrad who did not call herself an artist, but rather a student, because she felt she still had much to learn before claiming the title. Despite her not wanting to embrace that label, I still felt that she was an artist. Similar to marginalized groups within our country, “The United States’ active community cultural development field is nearly invisible…There has been no sustained support for community cultural development per se in the United States, forcing practitioners to struggle for legitimation…The result is a U.S. field that appears atomized and dispersed, with no clear identity as a profession” (3). The word professional is to be debated. It is in close conversation with the questions of “What is art?” or “What is good art?” However, in the case of professionalism it is a term relating to the identity of the artist rather than a label of their work. It is an entirely subjective matter that can be described very differently by one’s self and by the judgment of others. In Howard Singerman’s book, The Art Subject, he examines the definition of professionalism in relation to the theory of the MFA degree. The College Art Association believes that the MFA “is to be “‘used as a guarantee of a high level of professional competence in the visual arts’”; it promises not only a “certifiable level of technical proficiency” but also… “the ability to make art’” (188). Under this definition, one must hold a degree of higher education in the arts to be considered a professional artist. Although I am currently studying within an MFA program, I disagree with this definition. While my Graduate experience has been helpful and informative, that is not to say that I could not have been making equally effective work without an MFA or even a BFA. 12

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Organizing skills are crucial to community cultural development, but the work cannot realize its full potential in the hands of organizers lacking artistic ability and understanding. Vibrant creativity, a wide cultural vocabulary, the capability of conveying information through imagery, sensitivity to subtle shadings of meaning, imaginative empathy, the craft to shape bits of social fabric into satisfying, complete experiences that cohere as works of art-- these are the stock in trade of the skilled and committed artist. Without them, projects cannot rise beyond the level of well-intended social therapy or agitpropâ&#x20AC;? (67). -Arlene Goldbard

James Brook, on the other hand, “…described (professionalism as) a relationship (that is) not only economic, but, more important, symbolic…” (189). For example, activist artists such as the Chicano collective, ASCO, did not make work for monetary gain, but rather as a way to creatively explore their cultural and political issues of interest. The symbolism behind their actions was much stronger than any financial influences may have been. Much like the concept of the artistic network, “Community is never finished, but is always in the process of becoming” (Goldbard). The difference here again, is that networking is often done with the pursuit of some sort of future financial benefits. The goals of community or activist work are about wanting to contribute to the collective people, rather than one’s self. Some would say that the word professional means to make a living off of selling one’s work, but there are plenty of experienced artists who must hold non-art-related jobs in order to pay the bills. Brooks continues, “’Professional’ conveys, to the outside world that people spend a great deal of time in what they are doing,” to which Barnett Newman appended his own simple and important definition: “’Professional’ for me means ‘serious” (189). While it could be said that to get an art degree is to be taking one’s work seriously, this definition also seems like a more fitting description for community cultural development, as community workers definitely put time into their work and consider it a serious profession. Goldbard prefers collective empowerment to solitary working, and believes that “active social experience strengthens individuals’ ability to participate in democratic discourse and community life, whereas an excess of passive, isolated experience disempowers” (65). This can take shape creatively within artist collectives or collaborative projects and create a lasting artistic community. An isolated artist working alone in her studio is not disempowered as an artist, but perhaps limited as an activist. Without community, art making is possible, but activism could be problematic. It’s about the people having the power, not just one person. Ultimately, Goldbard’s desire is to create a world in which the arts have a much larger role. In examining community cultural development, she acknowledges the importance of the artist’s role as a social change agent in that “everything created must first be imagined.” Occupy Wall Street would never have become a reality if it were not for progressively thinking creative minds. Golbard’s utopia in the city of Providence, RI, would include art as a primary device within establishments such as hospitals and educational institutions. As far as making art within “the mainstream art world,” I think that to make one’s artwork more involved in activism, it would help to get out of the studio and to work collectively. It is possible for progress to result from isolated studio work, but at a seemingly slower rate.

Adams, Don, and Arlene Goldbard. Creative Community: The Art of Cultural Development. New York, NY: Rockefeller Foundation,

Creativity & Culture Division, 2001. Print.

Singerman, Howard. Art Subjects: Making Artists in the American University. Berkeley, CA: University of California, 1999. Print.

Favianna Rodriguez

is an artist and activist who works with ideas of migration, global politics, economic injustice, patriarchy, and interdependence. She is a strong believer in cultural organizing as a means to political empowerment and social change. After the passing of SB1070, Arizona’s anti-immigration law, Favianna worked with Jeff Chang, Ken Chen, and Andrew Hsiao to found the online magazine Culture Strike. Culture Strike is a network of visual artists, writers, filmmakers, musicians, and activists who seek to fight antiimmigrant hate by bringing awareness to the stories of migrants. It’s a grassroots organization that provides artists with the tools they need to be social change agents.

“Art is about creating a visual culture and challenging systemic problems.” Favianna recognizes migration as a women’s issue, as “3/4ths of migrants are women,… if you’re a woman, one of the only ways you can get legalized is if your husband asks for you, not to mention that if you’re undocumented and you call the police on your domestic abuser, then you are likely to be deported.” The issues of women are not to be ignored within the issues of migration policy. The physical passage through Mexico to the United States “is an immensely dangerous passage, and…there’s over a 50% chance that you can get raped.” Women who migrate are disproportionally affected, and this is absolutely a women’s issue that does not get talked about enough within feminist discourses.

“All around the system is broken, but the system is especially broken when it comes to women.”

Working with art institutions as well as within social movement groups, Favianna blurs the line between what is the “fine art world” and art within the community. Favianna does not see the art worlds as “an inside/outside thing,” and “wants to use all tools at (her) disposal to be able to affect social change.” She wants to address the problem of inequalities within the art world “by challenging the spaces where these practices are upheld.”

“There’s a lot of talent and progressive ideas coming out of these art schools. And I want to tap into that and be able to help shape that. I can’t shape that by being an outsider.” As a printmaker, Favianna’s work is often has a very graphic and to-the-point quality, but she does not think there’s only one way to get these messages across. Although she began her art career making political posters, she also makes more abstract prints, and believes that there is also a space for conceptual art within the movement. Any medium can be used as a potential for social change; “It’s all about the values, the intentions, what’s being shifted, what stories are being told, and what the ethical principles are that are being applied.” Favianna is proof that it is absolutely possible to have a career as an artist whose work is functioning to affect social and cultural change. You can follow Favianna Rodriguez at Favianna.com, on Facebook, or on Instagram at Faviana1. For more resources on these issues, visit culturestrike.net, creativetimereports.org, and presente.org. Quotes by Favianna come from an interview I did with her when she came to lecture at RISD and made beautiful monoprints in her printmaking workshop.

Feminist Discourse and Art as Activism I publish a feminist zine with a friend back home called Yes, Maâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;am. We used to host feminist discussions at a couple different co-ops in Austin, TX as teachers within Austin Free Skool. Rather than teach a class, we preferred to lead open discussions. We discussed a wide range of topics frim internet misogyny to hair politics to abortion rights. These discussions became a way for me to converse with like-minded (not always) people, and they fueled the ideas I was thinking about within my artwork.

Without friendly discussion, it can be hard to be left alone to make sense of things that are not widely considered. When I moved to Providence, something was missing. I brought up the idea of forming a feminist discussion group to one of the sculptors who seemed to have similar interests. We had our first meeting to see what everyone else wanted to get out of a group like this, and so was born The Dinner Party. The name of our group comes from Judy Chicagoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s installation in which she created a large triangle shaped table with place settings and tiles honoring 1,038 women throughout history. This meet-up group is made up of mostly RISD Graduate art students, so our discussions are coming from a more specific point of view. Of course we all have entirely different experiences, but there is a sense of community in which the members appreciate the work of each other. The Dinner Party meetings welcome all genders and allow for the culminating of a community of artists as well as anyone who is specifically interested in issues of gender and equality. Personally, I would consider it a safe space in which to speak freely without the fear of harassment. We agreed on a nonhierarchical format in which anyone could suggest to lead a meeting on a topic of their choice. We have read pieces by Linda Nochlin, Audre Lorde, and Imogen Binnie, and each presented our personal work to see where everyone is coming from. What these meetings entail is feminist discourse. 18

While discourse is a successful tool in examining pressing issues and opening eyes, physical activism is more about creating concrete political progressions. As artists, we find it beneficial to discuss issues that our work may deal with, but that is not to say that our work cannot also be forward-looking. I do believe that art is a significant part of culture, and that it can oftentimes serve as a form of activism in itself. Discourse is a form of exercising ones voice, and art should be as well. In The Beach Beneath the Street: The Everyday Life and Glorious Times of the Situationist International, by McKenzie Wark, it is said,

“Art belongs to the infrastructure of society, not to the superstructure. Art is a fundamental kind of social production. Marxism breaks with classical tradition by assigning priority to action rather than contemplation, but its error is to consider art only as a form of contemplation. Art is action.” This quote for me, reaffirmed that making art is not always a selfish act, and that is can act as a tool for promoting social justice for many. I think that what the Situationists and what activist artists are fueled by is wanting a sense of artistic community that disregards art as a means of monetary gain. They do not seek to sell their art products, but rather to explore their political values through means of creativity. The title of artist is self-given, as opposed to having someone choose whether or not they are making “good art.” The word community is one whose definition is to be debated. There is a common belief that art within the community falls within the Dark Matter art world. Is it not true that the elite art world is a community in itself? Is it not important for community to exist to be able to receive feedback on one’s art? The Situationists created the concept of the dérive, in which one would wander throughout the city as a part of their practice. This functioned to bridge the gap between productive work time and leisurely play time. It encompassed both worlds at once. This community of artists understood that:

“Art is Action” 21

“Art is playful; play is social…’play is not consciously directed to any goal but is a delight, an identification with things themselves. This is why play develops best in community.’” Going back to the topic of feminist discourse, for me it provides a sense of community that is necessary in maintaining an optimistic outlook, which helps me to continue making my work. Keep in mind that art too can be a form of action. Another thing—if you find a lack of discourse in your community on your topics of interest, chances are there are more people like you who could also benefit in organizing discussion meetings. :)

Wark, McKenzie. The Beach beneath the Street: The Everyday Life and Glorious times of the Situationist International. London: Verso, 2011. Print.

Thanks for reading, Art, Activism, and Community. All work is of my making unless noted otherwise. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m so glad I could share these ideas with you and I invite you to take part in this dialogue by emailing me at suzy@suzygonzalez.com. 24