Suchergebnisse

Thirst for Colour is a collaboration with diverse groups that work with Whitman-Walker's oral history archive of the Queer and Trans history of the greater DC community and the narrative of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Washington DC. The work is a reconstructed LGBT+ flag – work is a reflection on the emptiness of symbols and poses a question -what really constitutes a safe space? The work is developed in relation to the evolving history of flags, in particular the idea of forming and reforming identity. Part of the exhibition See you there: Making History at Whitman-Walker. --- "This beautiful piece, designed by Tina Gverović and constructed at The Corner at Whitman-Walker, is a multi-colored vortex with an approximate area of 78 square meters, or 844 square feet. It takes up a huge portion of the floor at The Corner in LIZ. For me, the sculpture has a kind of holy geometry. In its sheer mass, the piece centers itself. I feel a sense of unitary completeness. Across the circular landscape each person sees a different horizon from their view, inviting difference and perspective into the conversation. The large sculpture of swirling fabric joins in the tradition of elaborating on Gilbert Baker's rainbow flag design. Gilbert's original, first raised in 1978 at Pride in San Francisco, contained 8 colors, (Hot pink, red, orange, yellow, green, turquoise, indigo, and violet) celebrating the diversity of the LGBT community. From its inception the flag has undergone revisions and reinterpretations. Early on, a commercial version lost a color to the requirements of mass production, and a political version went from 7 to 6 to allow the flag to fly in two, equal halves of 3 colors each. The most common colors, (red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet) are now seen throughout the world on clothes, pins, and even food. Tina Gverovic's contribution to the history of the rainbow pride design contains 11 different colors. It is warm and soft on the eyes; slightly muted compared to the high voltage tones which dominate the world of rainbow pride flags. In her sculpture, Tina has incorporated the recent widespread addition of 5 colors; Black, brown, and light pink, white, and light blue. The additions recognize Black and brown people of color and transgender people in the queer community. The new colors recognize a new focus on the intersectional nature of the queer rights movement. The overlapping fabric panels remind me of the AIDS Quilt, and the soft folds and suggestive galley placement make me feel like it is a place to stop and sit and remember. The AIDS Quilt was last publicly displayed in 1996 on the National Mall in Washington. Now at 48,000 panels it is a powerful testament to the lives that were lost to the crisis and provides a visceral reminder of their contribution. Tina's welcoming whirlpool contains 70 panels. The panels are carefully folded by gentle curves into a circle. For me, in the cloth's folds and eddies, and overlapping, colored panels, the design points to history of the struggle for liberation. The 11 alternating colors suggest the interwoven flow of LGB liberation and trans liberation and Black liberation. The piece is constructed from the inside out, and so, like the struggle for liberation, it is possible to imagine that you can keep adding to it." BENJAMIN BROOKS

Dubrovnik Biennial doesn't seek to reproduce a typical Biennial form which relies on the patronage of large institutions and support from local government in return for delivering a safe and convenient Biennial PR package. Following two years of people around the world responding to Covid through investing in grassroots, community-based, self-organized initiatives, we should be able to understand that Biennials can be done differently, that they can managed and realised in the margins using relatively humble resources. We're not talking about geographical margins, but rather margins in terms of economical or institutional status. Of course another large-scale conventional Biennial would be easy to establish in Dubrovnik. Although Dubrovnik apparently has minimal interest in culture according to the percentage of income that's invested in art, it's a very rich city with plenty of incredible interior and exterior venues, and it's easy to navigate. Such a Biennial could happily come and go without leaving much in terms of social or political trace. A 'conventional' Biennial would no doubt positively affect the cultural and economic landscape, but we're proposing something far more progressive. We're approaching the idea of a Biennial from a different position - extensive, discursive, embedded, networked, educational, inclusive, non-spectacular. We want the question of what a Biennial might be and what it might 'do' to be explored within the local community. We envisage a low-key, long-term series of events and workshops as the prologue to something that we might call an exhibition, an exhibition that takes place biannually. In this case 'exhibition' is a broad term, expansive, permissive and promiscuous. Workshops have already began! So far discussions seem to have focused on the contemporary value of art and relationship between art and exclusivity. We plan to make a small publication which documents the questions that workshop participants posed in relation the idea of a Dubrovnik Biennial. In the spirit of bypassing bureaucratic restrictions and formal infrastructure and at the same time exposing the discursive nature of our approach, these questions were originally formed as hand-made posters to be publicly distributed around the city. Further workshops are scheduled.