Is painting the new craft?
Thoughts on how we curate a space dedicated to making
"Why don't we show films?"
The local repertory theatre board were meeting to discuss how to grow their audience. The manager was proposing that they include films in their program.
"More people enjoy films. We don't have to worry about paying actors or finding replacements if they fall ill."
The theatre director was outraged: "But what about our craft? There are precious few stages where we can practice our acting skills. Why give up our space for a foreign medium like film?"
The manager smiled. "I think it's time we looked beyond the binaries of film and theatre. They are both platforms for acting and storytelling, aren't they? Some of our actors have even performed in films. We can't be stuck in the past. Isn't it obvious that the screen has become the main medium for stories today?"
The director turned pale. "But isn't that the very reason why we need to keep theatre alive? There are so many other places where people can watch films: cinemas, lounge rooms and now even on their phones. Film doesn't need our theatre to find an audience. But our theatre is one of the few remaining spaces to see live acting."
"You make it seem like a zoo!"
The director raised her finger, dramatically. "That's not such a bad analogy. Despite all the nature documentaries they can see on screen, people still want to see live creatures—in real life."
She raised her finger again. "But beyond entertained, isn't sometimes the zoo also critical in saving endangered species? Most actors learn their craft on the stage. And even a superstar like Nicole Kidman will occasionally return to the stage to hone her skills in front of a live audience. Without theatre, film will become more and more an artificial space for avatars and digital effects."
The manager looked over to the empty stage and pondered. "Mmm. Perhaps you're right. Come to think about it, maybe it would be a good idea if cinemas occasionally had some live acting."
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This scene came to mind in response to the recent exhibition at Craft Victoria, Into the Everywhen, which featured a wall of paintings. The exhibition was curated by Yorta Yorta artist Shahn Stewart and curator, writer and painter Eden Fiske, who form the business, Alchemy Orange.
Craft Victoria grants artists autonomy in how their work is categorised. This is especially so in an exhibition associated with NAIDOC.
As stated on the website:
This exhibition is a space in which people with Aboriginal heritage take charge of their own narrative, drawing deeply from the rich and multifaceted wellspring of Indigenous knowledge and creativity. Where the hierarchies of craft and fine art are broken down in lieu of something more honest.
And Eden Fiske writes in the catalogue about the way Western models of linear time are at odds with Indigenous histories:
These histories exist without the need for a patriarchal colonial art history, and the simplistic ideas of time and material or craft and fine art existing within a binary of primal and modern.
The First Nations perspective gives pause for thought.
Normally, I'd be on the side of the theatre director. Doesn't painting get a good enough run in art galleries across the city? Won't it lead us to view craft as yet another "artistic expression" rather than the "material expression" that gives it unique meaning and value?
Yet looking at the paintings themselves, a different story emerges.
Indeed, the paintings by Shaun Daniel Allen have a particularly craft-like meaning. They are partly made using ochres from the very landscapes that he was painting. The work then has a strong material connection to its subject, similar to the use of local fibres in weaving.
There is a trend here in the field of painting. Allen's work reflects a movement in painting of wild pigments, which shares much with the use of natural dyes in textiles and the use of found clay in ceramics.
This then seems the key issue. A space for craft provides a way of appreciating how something is made: the materials, process, skills, traditions and labour. The mainstream art gallery has a different focus: what the work means. Labels, text panels and catalogues help us decipher what the art "says". We learn about the feelings of the artist, the message they want to convey and the idea that is explored.
Indeed, the prevalence of media like video and photography means that painting itself is becoming less common. Perhaps today the practice of painting needs a craft space to help us appreciate its unique qualities.
The craft space helps us tune into the dialogue between the maker and their materials. This sensitivity is increasingly important as we learn about the relationship between human activities and the environment. Films like Avatar can convey the right messages, but in the end, they sustain the society of spectacle that detaches us from the land on which we live.
Into the Everywhen is at Craft Victoria until 3 September 2022
PS.
Meanwhile, there is a theatre in South Australia that is now showing films.
Guildhouse just awarded their $50,000 fellowship to painter, Tom Phillips. The South Australian organisation Guildhouse evolved out of Craft South and has been expanding its initial membership of makers to include visual artists. It now uses the term "artists" to describe its community: "Guildhouse engages and supports artists…"
The external judges were visual arts curators Rhana Devenport and Rachel Kent. Phillips's work is presented as focused on its message: "As an artist, I believe art should say something about the world that we live in."
Guildhouse is one of our most innovative organisations. I have great respect for the programs they have developed, especially those that celebrate the craft skills of migrants.
The inclusion of visual artists is clearly important in the survival of an organisation like Guildhouse. And Phillips has an important message. But it would be a shame if the focus on individual message made engagement with materials seem less important.