The Community Building Pep Talk

This post is written by Latitude 53’s Writer In Residence, Carolyn Jervis. She will be writing critically about Latitude 53 programming, the community and more on a regular basis over a six month term. Read more about the Writer In Residence program.

This post comes to you after having numerous conversations over the past month about Edmonton’s arts community. So the following is a reflection on why I think it’s important to grow and nurture relationships in this scene, not just for the evolution of your own development, but for the good and betterment of the visual arts where we live. It’s hard to talk about the importance of community without falling into one of two types of platitudes:

1. No one is an island.
   Yes we can.
   Bundle of sticks are stronger together.

   Or:

2. Network. Interface. Synergy.

Through these narratives, the rainbows and unicorns of number one, or the business-minded jargon of number two, it’s hard to find a way into ideas of community-mindedness or collectivity and see greater nuance. When I think about my own career and how it is taking shape, it doesn’t take long for me to realize that all of the opportunities I’ve had thus far are because of relationships I’ve formed in the arts community. I’m not talking about nepotism. And as my involvement in the arts has grown from months into years – and I’m still just getting my feet wet – I’ve begun to understand how important it is to think relationally to create worthwhile projects, develop professionally, and be a positive force in the nurturing and evolution of Edmonton’s arts scene.

Take a Chance on Me

To borrow from ABBA, getting started in our small and challenging industry requires someone to take a risk and make an investment in you. When I was offered my first internship with The Works several years ago, even after being out of town and out of the loop for a year, there was a definite element of risk in this choice on the part of the organization. Sure, I had volunteered in the arts elsewhere and had been interviewed, but they didn’t really know what I was capable of, or if I was capable at all beyond the words supplied on my resume. From the point of view of a university student just breaking into the industry I wanted to work in - one that has more people than it has jobs - it was easy to understand this break just as a gift. I approached the job with the mindset that I had to prove my worth and ensure I was doing everything possible to show I’m an asset to the organization. I know now that it’s important to consider what the organization can do for me too. How are they, or how can they, use my experience, skills, gifts, and interests? How might this job contribute to my vocational goals? The point is that it is important from the get-go to never think of yourself as a parasite. Ideally these relationships are always reciprocal.

What I have seen while working at a wide range of organizations in the arts, in terms of size, mandate, and dysfunction, is that the best growth opportunities for employees are in the places that see their people as resources and that put a concerted effort into taking advantage of their strengths and interests. This is another way these relationships are mutually beneficial because these organizations seem to have the most dedicated, motivated, and loyal staff.

Do you have a mentor yet?

I’m not sure if it was because I was strange child or if this is just what happens when you have a parent in the human resources business, but I was really excited about having a career some day. I wasn’t sure what kind of career it would be, but I was sure going to try to find out sooner rather than later. I got into the habit of learning about careers that I was interested in. What became important was getting to know who did which particular kinds of work. I learned how many things I found interesting but didn’t have the drive necessary to make a career in that area. Sometimes I would feel guilty about taking these busy peoples’ time, but the truth of the matter is that the people who love what they do were excited to share their experiences with me.

As I find more direction during the early stages of my career, the people I have met and continue to meet are the best resources for developing my professional life. Asking someone what they do or what project they are working on gives me critical information about ways to approach work in a creative field. But what is just as important is how these conversations reinforce to others that what they do matters. It proves that people care and are supportive of their work, that it is interesting and worthwhile. We must contend with such limited resources that support from peers is important motivation since the struggle to reach vocational goals is always uphill.

A few months ago I was nervously anticipating what my life would be like when I would be balancing four jobs. As I sat writing lists in a coffee shop, I saw an art community acquaintance that always seems to be juggling all kinds of exciting creative projects. I intercepted him and we made plans to meet and talk about this kind of work life the following week. His time and insight were important in navigating my work commitments and taking care of myself.

And sure, this is “networking”. You can think about talking to or developing a relationship with anyone in the arts community as “networking.” But the problem I have with that word is that it suggests a somewhat exploitative relationship. I’m not being exploitative or underhanded about my intentions. And I’m not talking to people purely for my own professional benefit. It may result in future work opportunities, but that isn’t the sole motivation. I’m sincerely interested in what others do and in being the best arts professional I can be.

To think about these relationships in a broader sense, it’s important work these mentors are doing for the good of their community. The more interested, motivated, and knowledgeable people working in our arts scene are, the better, right? If the new faces and those who are better known can recognize the importance of the growth and development of our arts scene, we all reap the rewards of more art being produced in our city. This means expanding networks, which hopefully results in motivating the creation of more challenging work, both for its makers and its audience. This is also a way of letting people know that they don’t need to leave town to do excellent work in the arts that is seen, appreciated, and considered critically.

Where else do we learn these things?

A few weeks ago, I was buying a couple of books at Chapters when the cashier looked at me somewhat quizzically. It seemed as though she spoke to me against her better judgment. I certainly hope this was the case, because when she looked at one of the books I was trying to purchase, “Artist Survival Skills,” she said, “That must be about how artists can become good waiters.”

I didn’t find this particularly funny, especially after a 60-plus hour workweek in my many arts-related jobs. Nonetheless, I was too stubborn to just ask her if selling books is what she wants to do with her life, and how that’s working out for her. Instead, we had a little moment in which I debunked the starving artist mythology. I told her about what I do. I told her about how being an artist is more complicated than sitting in a studio and painting all day. There are other things involved, and other arts-related work that’s just as important.

And as I drove home and wished I had told her that I didn’t appreciate her maligning my career choice, I thought about just how little we can assume people know about this strange little industry in Edmonton. I was trying to explain to a friend of mine how unusual it was that I was bringing a show of mine to Toronto in the fall for a symposium, and how I need to track down funding for it. The symposium organizers couldn’t cover all my costs. And just like the Chapters clerk, I heard myself telling my friend things I learned only after working in the field or talking to people doing related work. There’s no University class or book that can adequately cover how the complex art ecosystem functions. I rely on knowledge gleaned from people in my arts community in order to learn as I go along.

Why it doesn’t matter if no one looks at the art at openings

This isn’t always a popular idea. I know many people who hate art exhibition receptions because they end up being more about the faces in the crowd than the art supposedly being celebrated in the gallery. So maybe the intention of those gatherings isn’t to have a great optical or intellectual experience with a work of art for the majority of people. Instead we come together to celebrate something broader – a shared commitment to the visual arts. I’ve often heard the complaint that openings usually have so many people in attendance that it’s impossible to get an unobstructed view of a work. If this is the case, bring your focus in closer. Stop looking at the walls and screens and plinths and look at who you share the room with. This is your community. Now get out there and exchange some wisdom.

Make sure you take advantage of the all the great ways to celebrate our arts community this month. Visit Latitude’s Summer Rooftop Patio Series and DRAW at the end of the month (which is co-hosted with fellow artist-run centres Harcourt House and SNAP as well as FAVA) and be part of celebrating the collaboration of these important non-profit arts organizations.