A Very Special Writer & Editor
As with most relationships, my relationship with art has its ups and downs. I can soar in response to a work of art, sometimes because it thrills me so much and sometimes because a piece strikes me as so pointless. The extreme response to art thrills me whether it is positive or negative.
Nothing about the visual art world gets me going, however, more than the language of some curators and critics. When some curators and critics write about art, tears can come to my eyes because they can make me feel the beauty of the art they have seen. Sometimes, the passion of visual art critics for an exhibition can motivate me to travel in order to see the reviewed exhibition. Other times, however, the curatorial discourse can infuriate me.
When curatorial language defies comprehension, I and others often call it "artspeak." And what is it about artspeak that so gets my goat? It is because, frankly, "artspeak" makes me feel stupid. Artspeak is alienating; Often, I cannot really understand it and I have a life-long interest in the visual arts and a college degree. Can I assume that if I do not understand what I am reading that others will not either?
I am a member of the Canadian Conference of the Arts (CCA). I have been for decades, and once, when I attended one of their annual conferences, I attended a large "forum" on pressing issues in the arts. Following the presentations, the chair Lister Sinclair decided to call on delegates for reaction, and he said he would select some at random. I was his first choice and I was asked to go to the podium. Very reluctantly, I went and all I could do was say that I was sorry and embarrassed to admit it, but I could not understand the bulk of what I had heard. I was there, I said, because I care deeply and passionately about the visual arts and theatre and that I was at the conference to learn about art advocacy so that I could further the advancement of the arts in my home community. And, I added, that I was sad that the language of those who might be teaching me rendered their wisdom and experience incomprehensible to me.
Immediately following my comment, the whole audience applauded and I, a complete unknown, was elected to the board of directors and executive of the CCA for the next six years. My mandate, I assumed, was to render the business of the CCA comprehensible to my fellow members.
I love and crave meaningful arts scholarship that I can understand — especially that of critics/writers/curators/directors/academics that attracts people to a life-long passion for the arts — writing that inspires, reveals, entices, thrills and educates. The books and exhibitions that I see as plagued with "artspeak" drive me crazy because I feel they alienate readers and gallery visitors from the visual arts.
One visual arts writer who I have always respected and admired tremendously is Paula Gustafson who, for years, published and edited Artichoke magazine. (She loved my CCA story.) Her passion for the visual arts — especially for crafts — is palpable in all her writing. The depth of her knowledge of visual art history and contemporary practice is informs her writing yet she never uses "artspeak." Her writing is never alienating, never incomprehensible and always insightful. She has been, for me, a model visual art critic. Her award-winning magazine, Artichoke (and later at Galleries West where she went after Artichoke had to fold) she chose not to review those artists or shows she found lacking and she masterfully celebrated those artists and exhibitions that advanced the art form. Her writing/publishing history reveals a completely open mind; a passionate mind as committed to the emerging artist as to artists with extensive professional experience and reputations.
Paula and I collaborated on several occasions. Our friendship began and grew through our common love of the Artropolis exhibitions. Her personal warmth, together with the respect and affection I felt for her as a writer made our friendship a valuable one for me. Consequently, I was devastated to get an email from her daughter, Nisse, telling me that Paula had passed away peacefully and surrounded by friends on July 11th after a very recent diagnosis of cancer. Her passing is a great loss. Her voice will be missed by many, particularly by those of us whom she let into her heart. No matter how many experiences we have with death, each one comes as a shock and they get no easier to deal with.
Paula took charge of her death. She managed the time between her diagnosis and her passing with the same dignity, passion and humour that marked her life and her writing. I will miss you Paula. I will miss you forever. Thank God for this space that allows me to share my respect for you.
If you love the visual arts, the next time you share a bottle of wine with friends, will you toast Paula for us all?
Chris Tyrell
ctyrell@shaw.ca
ctyrell@shaw.ca
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