Kemê's

I read the definition of "Standard" according to the Merriam Webster, both noun and adjective, and I wonder if we haven't been mixing them in the back of our mind. Something for what we stand for, almost tangible, as a banner. Something established just by a few, the experts, the authority, as a model to follow. Something that many, we, the society agreed on, without even knowing,  as a model to follow. "A structure serving as a base or support." A ruler and scale for measuring relevance, scope, value and quality. Something good, but not enough, to be remarkable. Common. Well-established. Familiar. Definitive. Basic. Law. Norm.

When I think of standards in the context of the Arts & Culture field, a physically uncomfortable feeling grabs my body. Like a long bony hand going up along my spine trying to fix a jacket that doesn't quite fit me, or at best, a clothing tag itching my neck. Why? I suspect I have been mixing those definitions too. And I confess... I did work on being standard to fit in the standards because the standards made me feel standard for not meeting the standards.

Have you been there too? If so... Hear me out, there is nothing standard about you, having you here, floating with me in this liquid reality, like otters, hand in hand, is a reason for celebration with hope and joy.

Cute otters, fierce otters, swimming in the field. Because what are culture and arts if not the water? Our heritage, dreams and the multiplicity of our identities, particles colliding, merging, flowing.

For those who enjoy keeping the gates (or the dams) of culture: Shouldn't it be the base to ensure its fluidity? The unpredictable instability of its interactions? Or in other words, to keep it alive and growing.

We say stop hatred now, once again! And we know that we will need to go upstream if we want to take down that hefty dull flag that is keeping us from the sun, and replace it with a thousand of little colourful banners. Brave, cheeky otters, the past year were talking of allyship, but to endure the friction of the water against the rocks they need accomplices. #welcomeboard

I wrote a poem for today, sorry, I decided not to read it. I don't want to tell you something, with a beginning and an end. Not today. When we regularly hear about the "new normality" as if that branding would ease all misgivings, but "new standards" still spooks as a hairy monster about to jump from the closet. We may be otters today, but who knows tomorrow, we have been an entire animal atlas, folding and cutting ourselves to fit standards that were designed to leave some part of us always out, the tail, a leg...

As far as our standards will continue failing in welcome us all and creating gaps of in-betweenness where art and culture workers feel they don't belong, we will be supporting a production of art and culture that makes others feel unfit.

Hi, you there, yes, you, Don’t feel embarrassed, I just want to thank you.

For the time you said: hold the horses! And asked for my opinion

For the time you asked for my permission

Or when you gave me recognition

For those days when you felt tired and still continued to stand next to me

For your continuous interest in educating yourself, reading, making research, listening and opening up.

For when you said “sorry” or “I don’t understand”.

For the infinite patience and discussions for the sake of continuing our dialogue

For not making assumptions about my gender, sexual orientation, mobility, customs, language, class, race, body, culture, heritage, religion, background or life situation.

For not patronising me or taking over

For getting out of your comfort zone

For your criticism and self-criticism

For making me a priority

For making “us” a priority

For every time you called out a bad practice

Or when you spoke out instead of looking the other way

For taking more time in breaking boxes rather than ticking them

For giving me space when I needed it

For your honesty and transparency

For knowing that we can not walk in each other´s shoes

For being a person of action and not just words

For seeing people, not only statistics

For not shielding yourself when you felt exposed or discomforted

For not pushing me into situations that would make me vulnerable

For your silent work

For not being afraid of trying

Thank you. Because I have done the same and only in you, I found an ally.

Lipps found a name for his theory in an 1873 dissertation by a German aesthetics student named Robert Vischer. When people project their emotions, ideas or memories onto objects they enact a process that Vischer called einfühlung, literally “feeling into.” The British psychologist Edward Titchener translated the word into English as “empathy” in 1909, deriving it from the Greek empatheia, or “in pathos.” For Vischer, einfühlungrevealed why a work of art caused an observer to unconsciously “move in and with the forms.” He dubbed this bodily mimesis “muscular empathy,” a concept that resonated with Lipps, who once attended a dance recital and felt himself “striving and performing” with the dancers. He also linked this idea to other somatosensory imitations, like yawns and laughter.

Culture of the Selfie is an in-depth art-historical overview of self-portraiture, using a set of theories from visual studies, narratology, media studies, psychotherapy, and political principles. Collecting information from various fields, juxtaposing them on the historical time-line of artworks, the book focuses on space in self-portraits, shared between the person self-portraying and the viewer. What is the missing information of the transparent relationship to the self and what kind of world appears behind each selfie? As the ‘world behind one’s back’ is gradually taking larger place in the visual field, the book dwells on a capacity of selfies to master reality, the inter-mediate way and, in a measure, oneself.

Author: Ana Peraica

Be careful, The description is not the definition.

Massimiliano Gioni