DAVID BROKER – Director CCAS 
“Artists statements and exhibition proposals”

HELEN ENNIS – Associate Professsor, ANU School of Art 
“Addressing criteria”

YOLANDE NORRIS – Festival Producer, Freelance writer and Curator
“Writing for the web”

KIKI SKOUNSOS – Arts Development Officer, artsACT 
“Preparing budgets”

KATE MURPHY – Lecturer, ANU School of Art
“Writing about your practice”

It was a cracking lineup packed with sound advice. While I felt largely (hugely) ill-equipped to speak about writing for the web I do hope I motivated some artists in attendance to take control of their web presence and create free blogs or studio logs, while they wait for enough funds to one day create a ‘proper’ site.

I particularly enjoyed Kate Murphy’s (aka: artist Ellis Hutch) presentation. While it was titled ‘Writing about your practice’ she opened this even further to consider ways in which writing may inform artistic practice, help distil ideas and be considered a practice unto itself. I highly recommend taking a look at Ellis Hutch’s blog, where you can read her full talk – it may influence your own practice in ways you didn’t know you needed.

Much of the material covered in the presentations reminded me of posts I’ve made here at Useless Lines over time. If you went along to the workshop, or you wished you had but couldn’t be there, these might be of interest to you:

• ‘The Art of Talking About Yourself’ – artist statements, promotion and the like
• ‘Taking the ‘Ass’ Out of Assessment’ – justifying and explaining your work to assessors and audiences
• And for some actual, practical advice relating to the use of the web for artists, arts organisations and arts audiences, refer to ‘Connect Arts – On The Digital Front Line’.

Here’s how I’ve tried to explain myself:

What can you expect? Lots of hypercolour, skulls and skeletons, feathers, fur, beads, flowers, leaves and branches, gold and silver, circles, triangles and a healthy dusting of glitter.

Image: Kate Rohde 'Rainbow Squirrel', courtesy of Karen Woodbury Gallery

The exhibition opens October 14th  at Canberra Contemporary Art Space. More details available through Facebook

Just the other day I stumbled across this article while catching up on the not-latest edition of BMA magazine (sometimes I read back issues to find out all the stuff I’ve missed out on. What? Does no one else do this?). It’s a rundown from Glen Martin – Canberra muso, writer, manager of Pecha Kucha Canberra and doer of art world good – on what he thought of last March’s You Are Here festival, and his hopes for its future. A little gratuitous to re-post here, I admit, but I feel he really hits the nail on the head in regard to the way things went down.

By Glen Martin, ’Unhinhibited’, BMA Magazine August 16, 2011

Earlier in the month I had a meeting with Canberra arts dynamo (and former scribe of this very column) Yolande Norris, to discuss some ideas for You Are Here 2012. It’s early days and nothing is confirmed, but initial rounds of ‘scoping’ are throwing up a collection of properly exciting ideas.

You Are Here 2011 was thrilling. That I could wander into Civic at lunchtime and be able to see an instalment of Austin Buckett’s magnificent lunchtime concert series, or visit a pop-up gallery exhibition in an old shopfront, or watch George Rose take over a wall and claim a bit of urban space for art instead of promotional signage filled the cockles joyfully.

You Are Here came together fast. Norris, alongside the mercurial David Finnigan and the rocksteady Anthony Arblaster, built a ten day celebration of activity and ‘doing’ in a super short time. Which meant that the festival had some frayed edges. And for mine, this was for the better. It wasn’t slick. It wasn’t anything close to corporate. Not all events worked. And yet, the sense of exploration and chaos served the wider festival brilliantly. It gave You Are Here an organic energy.

To head into Civic (which predominantly houses places where we shop and spend) and see visual or performing arts at all hours of the day was a joy. It accidently defined what the city needs to be, in its heart. Indeed, for those outsiders who suggest Canberra lacks one, here was the answer.

We’re not born to shop. We’re better at congregating, mixing, feeding off each other and building communities. Sorry to get a little metatossical, but this is the stuff that builds meaning and brings lasting pleasure.

You Are Here, by luck or design or a combo of both, articulated what a city should do – it should house creative talent and give them space to show it, and it should give its citizens an option to meet in the heart of the place and observe, have a dance or a sing or a laugh. The success of the ice-skating in Civic over winter is part of the same deal. It inspires a sense of ownership in one’s city. Civic pride if you will.

As You Are Here raged and roared, the Enlighten festival also happened. Apparently. I wouldn’t know, as I, like most of Canberra if we have a look at the statistics, missed it. Perhaps that was because the line-up, especially of musical artists, was a) odd, and b) said nothing about our place. I’ve nothing against Chris Isaak or Frankie Valli or even the current Frankenstinian incarnation of INXS. If you’re into it, well and good. But what do these artists say about Canberra as we turn 100? How do they contribute to a sense of civic pride?

You Are Here was a local festival of the finest kind – an event that celebrated the vast range of creative talent in this place and took it to the street. For that week the city felt different. Here’s to 2012, and here’s hoping that some folk in high places take note.

Glen, and hopefully at least a handful of others, will be glad to know that those folk have taken note, and we have been given the go ahead to throw ourselves into planning You Are Here 2012. Yay! If this gets you keen and sets your brain buzzing with ideas then you should head over to the You Are Here site to read about what happens next.

What happens really next is that I jet off (read: catch a coach) to Newcastle and This Is Not Art. THEN is the next next, and maybe we should talk?

Le van (Image from www.the-riotact.com)

Sadly, a large part of the NCA’s issue with the van comes down to ‘keeping up appearances’ in the most literal sense. Everything in Canberra, and particularly aside the lake, is planned within an inch of its life (the ACT Government is no better, having in recent times asked a local inner city record store to move their CD racks back inside the shop ‘for tidiness of appearance’, and suggesting that cafe furniture that sits outdoors should be subject to approval.) Reading about the NCA on their own website, one gets the sense that they do have Canberra’s best interests at heart, yet when the boat is rocked and the pressure is on, they all too easily seem to take on the guise of the fun police, clutching and pointing frantically at the Walter Burley Griffin plan. Again. As it happens little red burger vans were not part of his vision.

Brodburger’s stay at its Bowen Park location was extended past its initial 2010 deadline, thanks to a combination of media uproar, public petitions and red tape mess. It was clear throughout the next twelve months that a resolution would be found, it just probably wouldn’t involve the red van. NCA even suggested they build Brodburger a specially designed kiosk – something more aesthetically pleasing. Maybe at a different part of the lake that required enlivening? A year on from the initial furor, an agreement has been reached. It’s completely out of the left field, and this is where the whole thing becomes relevant to this bumbling art blog:

The popular Brodburger takeaway venture will relocate to the Canberra Glassworks later this year after the ACT Government brokered an arrangement that will add character and visitors to the Kingston Foreshore arts precinct, ACT Minister for Arts Joy Burch announced today.

Ms Burch said the ACT Government has been working with the Brodburger operators and the Canberra Glassworks for several months to accommodate the popular takeaway business at the Glassworks, which has been looking to secure a long-term tenant for its cafe.

The new Arts Minister met Brodburger owners Sascha Brodbeck and Joelle Bou-Jaoude and Canberra Glassworks Chief Executive Anne Jakle yesterday to confirm the ACT Government would work with the two parties to jointly fund a retrofit of the Glassworks’ cafeteria area to accommodate Brodburger.

“Brodburger currently operates from a caravan in Bowen Park under a temporary agreement with the National Capital Authority and has been looking for a permanent home, so this really is a win-win for everyone,” Ms Burch said.

“The Canberra Glassworks is an ideal location for the Brodburger business because it is close to Bowen Park and the business should be able to keep its current loyal clientele. I expect the move to occur later this year.”

Upon initially reading this I was pleased that a there was light at the end of this frustrating bureaucratic tunnel. Yet as I thought about it, the idea of putting such a wildly, gangbustingly popular establishment within a publicly funded arts organisation made me feel a bit uneasy. Of course, the Glassworks was designed with a cafe space – there was always the intent that the cafe fed and watered the visitors to the Glassworks itself. Now, if the overwhelming popularity of Brodburger continues following their relocation, or even if it diminishes slightly, the realtionship will be turned on its head.

Will all these burger buyers decide to take a look at an exhibition while they are there? Watch some studio glass making? Buy something from the Glasswork’s shop? If so, all the better. But if they come for burgers and leave – will they still be counted as Glasswork’s audience? It’s not unusual for an art institution to boast a popular dining establishment – the National Portrait Gallery being but one example. But at what point does this become the main focus and the instiution becomes simply a decorative home in which to eat? And what does it mean when that institution is asked (as they are) to measure their own success?

A symposium/conference of sorts for artist-run initiatives (ARIs) in Australia, We Are Here was conceived of by the National Association for Visual Arts (NAVA) and Firstdraft, and supported primarily by the Australia Council for the Arts. The events, a mix of presentations, roundtable discussions and excuses to drink, ran Thursday September 1 to Sunday September 4 in Sydney, largely and generously hosted by Queen Street Studios.

Topics included the history of ARIs in Australia, the role of ARIs in the art world, measuring the success of ARIs, the use of inner city spaces for ARIs, funding options for ARIs, what do we mean by ARI and why do we so liberally use the definition anyway when apparently no one else overseas does. To paraphrase International keynote speakers Lois Keidan (UK) and Jonathan Middleton (Canada) “we don’t have artist-run initiatives as such, we just have…artists doing stuff.”

I hit the highway with artist and arts agitator George Rose – a talented lady who is five times more motivated than myself. Together we flew the Canberra flag, among a truly national representation, with delegates from far-flung cities and towns (Cairns, Launceston, Cootamundra et al) seemingly out-weighing the expected Melbourne/Sydney contingent. And they are all doing incredible, enviable things within their communities. If we compare ourselves to national trends and the definition of ARI that prevailed at We Are Here then it’s safe to say that Canberra doesn’t really have any to speak of (the nomadic Here & There Collective being the closest example). Making friends within these other ‘small-time’ scenes such as ours, and having frank discussion about the nature of arts activity at home George and I were forced to admit that Canberra’s problem still is largely one of complacency and lack of self worth, coupled with a crippling fear of risk-taking (I am as guilty as anyone). We can try and cover however we like (the city’s too small, there’s no old buildings, there’s not enough funding), but they remain convenient excuses. Far from being depressing, this realization, in the context of the symposium, was in fact wholly motivating. The only disappointment was that more Canberrans hadn’t attended, particularly given our proximity, with whom we could carry this energy back to our own city.

Overall, We Are Here was an awesome event, and is sure to remain one of my top ten arts events of 2011 (thanks to George for dragging me out the door when I couldn’t bear to have another trip away). It was well run, well catered (important!), affordable and refreshingly free of any art-world posturing. There were so many light-bulb moments, so many gems from the many incredible presenters, and swathes of inspiration. I tweeted as many of these as I could bear to during the event, and for anyone interested in the discussion that took place during the symposium the Twitter hashtag #wearehere will provide the highlights package from NAVA and other smart phone toting delegates.

Congrats to NAVA, Firstdraft, Queen Street Studios, all the presenters and volunteers. Let’s do it again sometime – I promise I’ll have more to tell.

It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of This Is Not Art – you may recall me raving about it here back in 2009 and again last year. This year, being that I’m now on the board of co-directors, I feel I’m obliged to be a little less gushy. Or I oughta be. But I just can’t help myself when I say that TINA is one of the most incredibly inspiring, energising and downright life-changing events in the INTERNATIONAL ART CALENDAR. Sorry sorry…  And it’s FREE for GOD SAKES. Okay sorry.

If you’ve ever been even vaguely interested in visual arts, visual culture, electronic arts, video, performance art, theatre, writing, poetry, philosphy, experimental music, experimental anything, drinking beer, going swimming, dancing like an idiot then how about you just look at the 2011 program for yourself and see what you think. No pressure.

September 29 – October 3, Newcastle Australia

Over the past twelve months I’ve often met people who latch excitedly onto the fact that I left my job and now do my own thing. It seems most everybody wants a crack at doing the same, no matter what their interest or occupation. While it contains little practical help I wrote this for them:

So You Wanna Be A Freelancer – Some Thoughts From A First-Year Graduate

Get a credit card.

Get one now. Before you leave your full-time job. I’m not suggesting you get into debt, I just know that I wouldn’t have survived this year without one. There is no such thing as cash flow, more a series of spluttering bursts dispersed by long spells of n o t h i n g. It also helps to have a buffer saved before you begin.

Get the Internet.

I tried to go without having it at my house for far too long. You can pay for it on your credit card. Then you can claim it on tax (I hope).

Get a day job.

Yeah you head right – everybody does it but no one talks about it. Waitressing, a shop job, babysitting, anything that will bring a few dollars to each week. Something casual is best because of the flexibility. Bonus tip: find something that is related to your number one vice and you’ll also save money through staff perks! Barista = endless free coffee, theatre usher = free movies. Y’see?

Go to things.

Especially free things – symposiums and lectures and what not. It’s nice doing things during the day when you would otherwise have been working, plus you get to meet people. I’ve noticed that people who are out at events during the day are often afforded some kind of respect, like you must be a somebody, or at least be representing a somebody. Sometimes there are refreshments. All win.

What is time, anyway?

Time management. You really have to learn it. Not just that, but you have to learn what specifically works for you. Some people like whiteboards, some people scrawl lists on bits of napkin, some download apps. It doesn’t matter how you do it you just need to get organised. And you have to actually force yourself to work. You have to become acquainted with your work ethic. Like I realised I do my ‘best’ writing between the hours of 3 and 5 in the afternoon. I’m not kidding. And procrastinate if you have to – factor it into your plan for the day. Whether it’s Facebook or vacuuming, everyone has something and it’s akin to a dog turning in circles three times on its bed before it lays down to sleep. It’s just a part of life and you have to get it out of your system.

The work hours are the hard part, because nothing ever stops. If you are awake then the ‘office’ is open. You could sit up all night answering emails, you could take phone calls all through dinner. You won’t neccessarily get more done because of it. Make a decision about when you think work should stop for the day or the night but try not to get too attached. There will be weekend meetings, there will be late night skype sessions. Moreso if you are working across timezones. If you are fortunate enough to be working in a field you love it can help to consider these occurrences as less like work and more like everyday tasks that just need to be done, kinda like brushing your teeth.

All that said, try and have a day off every once in a while. Even if you have to lie to everybody about being booked out with meetings or something. Do the most un-work related thing you can think of.

Open yourself to the possibilities of the universe.

I’m only half kidding. I thought I pretty much knew what I wanted to do when I left my job: writing and curating, swanning about in galleries an so on. Instead I am mostly doing something that had never occurred to me at all: festival producing. In fact if anyone had told me about it before hand I would have said that sounds horrible get away from me no never ever. It’s funny how things turn out.

Find freelancer friends.

It helps to surround yourself with as many people as possible who aren’t doing the ‘regular’ 9 to 5 thing, because you can all too soon begin to feel completely excluded form normality. Together you can whinge about how poor and busy you are, you can arrange co-working days for added motivation, and you can even find jobs for one another through your connections.

Don’t give up, but know that you always can if you want.

There will always be another job somewhere out there if you decide you want to go back. Remember that you’re doing this to yourself by choice. That makes it sound horrible, but sometimes it will be. Other times you will amaze yourself and be prouder than you’ve ever been of anything you’ve done before. You will be more tired, more stressed and more poor than you can ever recall, but you will be surprised at the respect you gain, the incredible projects you find your way into, and the inspiring people you get to work with on them.

Timothy Horn 'White Death' 2009

How’s this for a mouthful: “Tour de Force is a project developed by artisan and Wagga Wagga Art Gallery, curated by Megan Bottari and toured by Museums and Gallery Services Queensland. The exhibition tour is supported by Visions of Australia, an Australian Government program, and the Visual Arts and Craft Strategy, an initiative of the Australian Government and state and territory governments.”

In layman’s terms, Tour de Force – In Case of Emergency Break Glass, is the brainchild of artist, curator and general dynamo Megan Bottari, a woman who does not suffer fools and works so that we should not suffer crap art. The exhibition is currently on a lengthy tour, for now on show at the Craft ACT Craft & Design Centre, in Canberra, our nation’s (2nd?) glass capital.

Artists included are Nic Folland, Jacqueline Gropp, Timothy Horn, Deb Jones, Tom Moore, Ian Mowbray, Trish Roan and Neil Roberts, the most obvious link between these being their ability to have moved seamlessly from the world of craft glass to contemporary art. There will be no vessels or vases on show for now.

Bottari possesses the kind of passion that can perhaps only be delivered by curators and art world wranglers who are also, or have been, makers themselves. Presenting a fringe forum/floortalk last week at Craft ACT, Bottari spoke so candidly about her intentions for the exhibition that she has left very little work for me to do other than gratuitously quote. And so:

Tour de Force is “not about technique, design and function, or production – it’s something beyond decor.” Instead, Bottari is focussing on “the ‘what if’ moment.”

Bottari and I seem to share the same taste in glass art. That is, we like that which is art and don’t really care what it happens to be made out of. The difference is she knows what she’s talking about when it comes to the medium and I do not. In the context of the often straight-laced glass world, dripping in tradition, Bottari admits Tour de Force is a show bound to ruffle feathers. “Art is a blood sport”, she warns the largely student audience ‘it’s not for the faint-hearted.”

Trish Roan 'Wayfinding' 2009-10

The advice continues. Bottari points out that all eights artists in the show are “card-carrying members of the ANU School of Art Glass illuminati” – a prestigious endorsement indeed. “You don’t have to be bound to the heritage glass club” she says, “get away from material and get away from technique. Glass is loaded with metaphoric possibility.”

Each artist in Tour de Force creates work with emotional intelligence (again Bottari’s words), and as such the audience need not have any prior knowledge of glass technique or methodology. Each viewer will find what they will, be it beautiful, shocking, amusing, baffling or otherwise. The point is that it with be something, because, as Bottari puts it, “it’s not the business of the arts to bore people to death.”

Tour de Force – In Case of Emergency Break Glass is showing at Craft ACT Craft & Design Centre until August 6th, so get in quick.
You can also read Bottari’s catalogue essay online here, and be sure to stop by her blog Glass Central.

Within the opening minutes of the presentation however, it became clear that the information within should most probably be compulsory for all beings of the arts & culture universe. Yes, artists included. The session drew upon OzCo research into how OzCo funded orgs are utilising the web, and how their audiences behave online. Grumblings about the nature of this research, its breadth and depth, who decided to look at what and why were largely sidelined, as it seems the questions presented by this information are more important than the answers. In many ways one of the most useful aspects of the amalgamated findings is the way in which it encourages arts organisations, some for the first time perhaps, to apply a simple marketing template to their activities and product. The best example is the so-called audience ‘attendance journey’, looking at how an audience member engages with online material (and indeed any material) for an event through stages of Awareness > Research > Booking > Preparation > At the event & After the event. A useful way for any organisation to re-examine the experience they deliver.

The site associated with the research project and presentations is so full of interesting STUFF that no under-resourced arts org is ever going to be able to make use of it. But luckily for myself and those like me, there is a wealth of knowledge to be trawled and discussions to be had, covering every aspect of working online to promote and publish arts activity. Have a look before you decide it doesn’t apply to you. You might be surprised. CONNECTING: ARTS AUDIENCES ONLINE