Who Is In Your Credit Sequence?
I was watching Punch Drunk Love the other night, and while I passed out and woke up intermittently throughout due to how epically stressful, loud, and abrupt every character is in that movie, I somehow managed to get some shuteye.
It was a mix of Shelley Duvall’s “He Needs Me,” slowly caressing me into a deep slumber and the insanity of Barry Egan’s infamous impromptu tantrums bashing through that kept me out of my much-needed REM phase.
But of course, even in my tiredness, I stayed awake through the end of the credits and watched every name glaze by my eyes—an important step in the consumerism of film.
This got me thinking… Who would be in your credit sequence? During an Artist Assembly, we discussed the vulnerability of recognition, being part of extremely niche subgroups, and the power of having support around the work that we do.
Here is a verbatim statement I made in that Assembly:
“Cult followings should be more accepted.”
Now, before you exit and look for the unsubscribe button, hear me out. I am not referring to The Manson Family, NXIVM, or the Rajneeshees…
I am talking about The King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard and Tame Impala Facebook group I have been in for over 7 years. Or my friend Gene who is a ride-or-die Fear of God follower.
The strongholds of these niche subgroups are the recognition individuals give to each other and the pride collectively felt by a group of people who often do not even know each other. It’s the pride and joy of knowing that others are equally as involved as you are.
As a society, we love to make ourselves the most individualized that we possibly can… it’s ingrained in us from the beginning of our existence. I couldn’t count on two hands the amount of conversation I have had with my European friends about how wildly absurd our obsession with singularity is here. It goes hand in hand with consumerism, big business, and making shit-loads of money—three things that bring the same Europeans to America in the first place. But it comes at a price.
In the art world, singularity and individualism are the broken promises that lead artists into its pitfalls. I like to think of the art world and the creative landscape as a funnel. Now, think about all the artists who are fighting for a spot in the limelight…
The general experience of the artist has seen greater days.
The art world breeds competition. Art residency, grant programs, group shows, basically any application that leads to an acceptance email is a form of a competition. Questions like, “How can I make my application stand out more than all the rest? What is it about me and what I do better than my peers? How can I distinguish myself amongst the masses?... those are all questions with answers that reinforce singularity.
These are the questions that we ask ourselves to help us fit into the mold of the art world and into the funnel. This cycle breeds competition.
Look. These programs are vital to the art space. Many great artists do great things through these programs. They provide opportunities and enable accessibility. This is not an anti-everything about the art world article, rather this is a call to action for what we can do better.
I propose we take a page out of the King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard Facebook group handbook and apply it to current life. I suggest we all begin to start being more culty about our friend’s artmaking.
We need to begin taking steps towards recognizing one another in the artistic arena on a more regular basis.
We need to tell our artist friends how their work makes us feel.
We need to support our artist friends and buy their work.
We need to give artists in our network more access to our work.
We need to think about each other more.
We can go from the Creator Economy to the “hey, your artwork makes a huge impact on me… I’d like to support you and buy your stuff and also, let’s work together!”
I picked up this book called ‘Slow Reader: A Resource for Design Thinking and Practice” at the Hauser and Wirth bookstore last weekend and have found myself writing small essays in my work notebook after each chapter. The author(s) have their own way of describing this “funnel” I speak of…
“…we need to think about how to break the artistic persona into a multiplicity of being as well, to unlearn the ways of inserting our skills, in order to ensure that people don't just become service ‘users’ of another kind but, rather that they are part of the building process, and thereby become true co-creators. This is about learning collectively how to take and share responsibility period to think and act beyond one's own immediate needs, assumptions, or desires, and to be very conscious of when and where we are being privileged in relation to others. Artists have to start considering this, instead of just carving out a nice position for themselves.”
Over the weekend I found myself walking through aisles of the biggest and the best art galleries in Los Angeles and abroad and all I could think to myself was, “Where does this all lead?”
Stumped by my own curiosity, I kept on keeping on wondering if my constituents ever felt entrapped by the same thoughts as I.
I feel like we’re living in a Tetsuya Ishida painting sometimes.
In all honesty, I had a lovely time looking at the art and wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world. I got to look at art all day, every day for 5 days straight accompanied by some other brilliant artists.
The authors of Slow Reader and I are working towards a similar goal. We both feel that we, as artists, must not forget that we need to be part of a community. We must be reminded of the systems and structures that have placed us in these predicaments and look to each other to help us remove ourselves from the burden they have created.
The entire creative landscape is predicated upon the need to commodify life itself. Whether it be at the hands of the funnel or the hands of the boys at the tippy-top, it’s on us as a collective to take steps toward a future we can be active producers in rather than passive consumers.
This isn’t community vs. individualism. This is recognizing that individualism only exists because of the existence of the ‘other’. Communication only exists because of the existence of ‘other.’
Implementing these ideas does not require any extra work. Efforts to reduce our ego-centric ideological approach to artmaking will make many aspects of our collective creative pursuits that much more enjoyable and accessible. Opening up about our practice, being vulnerable, and sharing our experiences will not only serve the greater collective but continue to sharpen our understanding of ourselves and the struggles that persist within us, cultivating a better grip on the systems that try to rule us.
How do I know that any of this works?
Similar to Shelley Duvall, I know that I need you. We need each other. Without the other, I don’t know where art would be. We need friction. We need diverse bodies, practices, perspectives, and histories to lead us toward understanding our process and to continue making beautiful things. We need a long credit sequence.
We are unable to do it alone, and anyone who tells you otherwise isn’t in it for the long game.
Yours truly,
Eli, MAXIMA
I know it has been a while since you’ve seen a newsletter… my deepest apologies. The good news is that there has been a lot of momentum since I started working on MAXIMA full-time. The less good news is I have less time to write. I will be moving to a once-a-month model for now. If you would like to keep up more consistently, check out Instagram!