i want to be an artist? - 24.10.2024
recently, i’ve been re-reading pedagogy of the oppressed, the 1960’s Marxist analysis of pedagogy and oppression dynamics by brazilian scholar Paulo Freire. i read excerpts of it years ago while borrowing my ex’s university lecture print outs and going through the reading lists. studying a music degree, our reading lists were lacking, a few technical handbooks and more of a generalised encouragement to ‘always be making’, rather than digging into researched based practice.
at the time, i was desperate to be an artist. hanging out with performance artists on the weekend and taking in the culture, i wasn’t satisfied with just being a musician, found the label of composer too stuffy and singer songwriter not really accurate, i wanted to be taken seriously. this was further stoked by a conversation at a show one night with one of my ex’s course-mates who told me i ‘couldn’t understand performance or installation art as i wasn’t studying it’ and therefore ‘my opinion on the work didn’t matter’. i took this as a personal challenge, having just been asked to create an installation for a charity event, and began doing performance and installation work as my main practice.
ever since, in core ways, i’ve consistently aspired to the visual and social identity of the artist, a lone creative entity, off in their own corner building new work and whose methods are only known to themself. this image fails at first glance. primarily, i don’t really know what i’m doing. my main talent is in my ability to both learn something quickly and improvise on a theme, so most of my work has no real method. mostly, it is born within community and dialogue with others and the cultures i exist in. much of the last 5 years of my work as been varying levels of pastiche towards works of the new york performance art scene of the 1970’s and 80’s, your Tehching Hsieh’s and Yoko Ono’s, artists of colour making incredibly detailed works, speaking to the time of their creation. my work has often lifted aesthetic ideas from their works but tried to re-contextualise them to the context of my own transness and the culture of the 2020’s. it’s their image i’m trying to capture a glimmer of for myself.
in pedagogy of the oppressed, Freire talks about the aspiration of the oppressed, the coveting of the aesthetics of the oppressor, saying:
"in their alienation, the oppressed want at any cost to resemble the oppressors, to imitate them, to follow them"
re-reading this on the tube, for the first time in maybe 8 years, i felt like parody. dressed in my all black, sleek outfit, a look that could easily pass for performance wear, and with a fresh, artfully designed, art show tote bag on my shoulder from a show i was just coming back from, i realised my alienation. i was still chasing the image of the artist. equally silly, was my prior week long consideration of how i prioritise my life and what i really want. my decision to look for connection, rather than continue working primarily alone. fashion is something dear to me as a core aspect of my sense of self. i carefully curate my aesthetic to say what i want it to say on any given day, if i want to look relaxed or professional, glamourous or studious, its personal to me, but it felt symbolic of the life i was still holding on to, still chasing after.
ironically, i’ve been an artist for years, maybe since i was a teenager but the alienation of my own oppression and the fear of the label of ‘amateur’, left me unable to find peace within that identity. i’ve been rushing to claim something i already have and have had this whole time. the ‘amateur’ primarily describes the ratio of function to enjoyment one applies to their work, in fearing the ‘amateur’, i was fearing the enjoyment of existing as something unique. yes, i am an artist, a professional, a practitioner, but maybe what i really want, is more of the ‘amateur’, finding enjoyment in my work, rather than chasing a false glimmer of something else.