Joanne Dero Art: September 2018

This summer was the second time I participated in the Venice Vending Machine installation, which offers participants an artwork in exchange for a dialogue about art. The first was at the 2015 Venice Biennale, and this year it took place at the Tate Exchange Liverpool.

The theme this year was Production, Process and Collaboration. Working on my pieces as they related to the theme challenged me to be much more aware of these issues. It clarified what I'm seeking in my own practice and where I want to go from here.

There's a lot of focus on art making being a business venture, and artists being entrepreneurs who need to learn the ins and outs of the business world to make their practices successful. This is difficult for an artist like me, who's never been interested in business or becoming a business person. Business plans, networking, marketing and promotion sends shivers down my spine. I've taken an array of classes and workshops to improve my skills in this area, but I still approach all of this with apprehension and a lack of confidence in my abilities as a business person.

I don't view my creative practice as a business or a production line. I don't create art primarily to sell, though it's nice when it does. Creating art is a way for me to make sense of the world. It's the way I address themes that preoccupy or trouble me. It's how I challenge my preconceived ideas and make peace with myself and the world. And by sharing my art with the public, it's how I participate in and contribute to the current conversations taking place in my community and in society at large.

My process is a contemplative exploration: trying things, experimenting with ideas and materials, examining and evaluating the results, and lots of starting over. It's questioning and decision making, observing and accepting. It's letting things rest, incubate, ripen and then returning to them to continue the journey.

I love to collaborate. I love sharing ideas and working with other artists on joint projects. But I've begun thinking about how influence and assistance are also part of a collaboration. Who influences me, how is that influence impacting my art, and is it necessary to credit this inspiration? Who helps me in my process, either intellectually, creatively or practically, and should they be noted as partners in my work? It's an interesting question, when throughout history, and in current practice, successful artists have regularly hired studio assistants and these workers, to this day, remain anonymous collaborators in the creation of works of art.

I find it interesting that in film, another creative industry, even a stage hand is mentioned in the closing credits. And in music, every background singer, instrumentalist, and technician is credited for their contribution to the work. It inspires me to do things differently.

Credits:

I saw a painting by Atsmon Ganor at the Toronto Art Fair a few years ago: Untitled 2015 - black horizontal lines painted on wood. Simple, yet profoundly beautiful, it still speaks to me today. And that's where my interest in working with basic neutrals began.

Alice Kunzli, my mother, taught me how to embroider, knit, crochet and sew. And although I haven't mastered the last three as she did, my love of embroidery, hand work and working with textiles, stems from her influence, and that of all the aunties and cousins who took part in the weekly sewing circles of my childhood; evenings spent stitching, story telling, laughing and building female fellowship and bonds.

Below are the works I submitted to the Venice Vending Machine Tate Exchange Liverpool.

For more information about Venice Vending Machine: https://www.venicevendingmachine.com/

And to browse the current VVM7 catalogue: https://www.venicevendingmachine.com/catalogue-vvm7