Space 242, Get Your Freak On, May 21, 2010

It’s hard to orchestrate an excellent conversation. It’s hard to coax a revelation through dialogue. It’s hard to make genius happen. A pure conversational conclusion develops naturally. Attempting to shape one with conscious creation is not unlike playing God, but also an interesting social experiment.

A lot of talented visual artists have a difficult time describing their creative process other than physical technique. When asked about meaning or subtext or intellectual creation, they are slide-lined when asked and tend to give no answer.

When I asked San Francisco-based photographer Mark Cross at his exhibition in Rotterdam (place-name-place drop) about any meaning in his work, he didn’t really feel that question was consequential. He implored me to make up my own meaning for his work and he would definitely endorse it.

So I have to commend Ami and The Space 242 Gallery for facilitating an exchange like this among the 100-plus artists featured in the exhibition, Get Your Freak On: Celebrating Circus Folk, Carnies and Sideshow Freaks, which had it’s closing ceremony last Friday. So, I realize my review is sort of useless at this point in time, but the art lives on. Ain’t that what’s important?

Once the ball of this conversation got rolling, it didn’t stop. It sped up in theories about the drama of the bearded lady, kaleidoscope-y art with many many freak faces spinning around, male inclination toward comic book art (no show at Space 242 contained as much female work)

It reached an extended zenith with a topic introduced by Ami herself. She expected to get more “freaky, twisted, bizarre” stuff with the topic at hand, but wound up with more submissions that were more “fun and festive.” A series of answers unearthed interesting truths.

One said “Artists identified with freaks because they both live on the fringes of society. There’s a level of sympathy.”

This hit me harder than what I expected to be the lesson or subtext featured in any poetic perspective on sideshow freaks to be pity stories, full of loss and mistreatment, Freaks and Pinocchio, on up through The Elephant Man. You know, “who’s the real freak?” kind of stuff. The classic artistic turning of the tables on the audience, who got a kick out the pain and misery of these…”freaks.”

I thought the whole exhibition would be a re-hashing of this almost jaded theme, one that’s clearly been done before.

But I got some new perspective from some artist’s statements. One talked about the historical aspect, how this sort of thing doesn’t really exist anymore. It’s very inhumane and politically incorrect. Most circus sideshows around nowadays feature feats of strength of endurance, like a skinny guy shimmying through a tennis racket or a tattooed man with a split tongue. One artist commented about how anyone can become a freak in a sideshow as long they “twist” themselves in some way, while freaks of the past didn’t have a choice. They were forced into what was essentially indentured servitude.

A Chuck Klosterman-looking artist stood up dramatically outside the circle of chairs denoting the artist’s roundtable and talked about the cynicism of modern culture killing the illusion of the sideshow freak. “People aren’t going to stare at the bearded lady anymore. They are going to say hormone treatment.”

And here’s is where I found a big chunk of meaning: Modern culture is very cynical. I doubt I’ll have to debate with anyone about that. See, even that last sentence was insanely cynical. My point being: people are sick of cynicism. They want things that are earnest, optimistic, and borderline illusory. They want things that are proud and positive. They don’t want the same vindictive and judgmental revisionist irony that’s made everyone lose trust in everything.

Yes, there are terrible things in the world and yes, it’s important to shed light on them. It’s important to get the true stories about sideshow carnival freaks, Christopher Columbus and The Alamo. But these myths, these signifiers mean more to culture than the true stories ever could.

That’s why there’s New Weird America, where artists and musicians have accepted the flaws of this country and are still groovy with it. Irony and cynicism have turned society into elitist fucks who try and stay two steps ahead of everyone and don’t trust anyone. Good old fashioned American earnestness breeds good feeling, community, and, most importantly, courage.

The powers that be in the world want people to fear one another, compete, and be malicious. They don’t want us to be proud of ourselves. The want us to be beaten down and cynical. You know why? Because cynics are never a threat to their power. Cynics never do anything. All they do is talk about the stuff they want to do and all the things they would change. Trust me, I’ve been a cynic most of my life

But since I’ve decided to be earnest, since I’ve started looking for good and happiness and illusionism, I’ve felt a lot happier. To move around a famous quote, “There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way.”

Some people might say that I am lying to myself, that if I feel troubled, I should express it. Understandable. But it’s healthier to express yourself by becoming the solutions you want to see in the world rather than talk about them. Talk gets you nowhere. Action is progress, even if you fail.

In conclusion, I don’t want things to be swept under the rug, but I don’t want pieces of dust to be shoved in my face. I want the floor properly cleaned. It can be done with earnestness and optimism, so you see.

“Smile and the world smiles with you. Frown, and you frown alone.”
- somebody who said “Hi!” a lot…I’m assuming