Insight 25: Learning How Much to Explain

I have often been accused of being too complicated in my thinking. I am a systems thinker, and when I describe my artwork, I can see the connections between the materials, the individual works, the exhibition space and what I hope someone might encounter there. Getting that out of my head in a form that works for someone else has been difficult. How much do they need to understand before they can see what I am offering?

Writing expressions of interest for galleries has given me repeated opportunities to experiment with that question. My purpose has never changed through writing them. What has changed is my judgement about how much of the thinking needs to be visible for a curator to consider the exhibition.

Fragile Futures is a sculptural exhibition exploring consumerism and environmental consequence through marine forms and waste generated by 3D printing. It has a structured progression through attraction, recognition and uncertain futures. I had already made many decisions about those zones and how works belonged together before writing the proposals. The challenge was articulating that structure without taking the reader too deeply into my own artistic language.

Researching a gallery’s goals and audiences was straightforward enough. I had written many business cases during my corporate career, so I understood the need to read what an organisation said about itself and explain how a proposal connected with its purpose. But knowing how to construct a case did not automatically help me judge when I had said enough about something so closely connected to my own thinking.

The Berninneit application had a long form, and I still overfilled it.

Pic below: Diagram of my proposed exhibition .. too complex!

There were separate questions about the proposed exhibition, why I was applying, community connections and public programs. Across those responses, I explained the exhibition’s progression, named individual works, described lighting and spatial changes, and set out the experience I could bring. The supporting material returned to much of the exhibition logic alongside images and a conceptual floor plan. The format accounts for some of that length. Even so, looking at it alongside the later Coal Creek proposal, I can see how much explanation I was asking the reader to absorb.

Berninneit included which works would anchor particular walls and how a threshold between zones might operate. These were considered decisions, but their presence made the initial proposal carry a substantial amount of the exhibition planning.

For Coal Creek, I deliberately aimed for an adequate glimpse.

Pic above: Coal Creek proposal, a simple glimpse

It was an emailed proposal, which gave me more freedom over the form, and I knew the curator was a very busy person. I needed to make it easy to read and give her a clear basis for deciding. The account still followed the three zones, but it gave a clearer, simpler journey through familiar marine forms, the waste behind their production and the uncertain futures explored by the later works. The connection to Coal Creek’s audiences also became concrete. The Waste Engine, which exposes the waste generated through desktop 3D printing, offered a point of connection for school and community visitors familiar with the technology. That gave the curator something specific to assess without requiring the full explanation of how every work operated within the exhibition.

A friend keeps saying, “Play the game, play the game.” Give them what they want. Don’t try to tell them what you do. Isn’t that terrible?

I find the suggestion uncomfortable, yet I am also learning to pay closer attention to what the person receiving the proposal actually needs. At Coal Creek, I kept the purpose intact while limiting how much of its complexity I asked someone to take in. Coal Creek accepted the proposal. Berninneit did not, but without feedback I cannot say why, or attribute the different outcomes to the writing. The comparison shows a deliberate change in my communication, rather than evidence that a shorter proposal will succeed.

There is still detail that needs to be communicated. Preparing for Kyneton recently made me more aware of the need to establish installation expectations and my role in arranging the work. I am comfortable adapting an exhibition while I am researching; each variation can tell me something. But I am learning that the practical arrangements need their own explicit discussion, and installation guidelines are something I will develop for next year.

That leaves me with a more useful distinction about the writing. The proposal needs to give the curator enough access to the exhibition to consider its relevance. It cannot carry every connection in my thinking, and including more does not necessarily make those connections easier to grasp.

After a year of applications and exhibitions, I am getting more comfortable with that incompleteness. An adequate glimpse can still represent the work faithfully, while leaving room for the fuller conversation that follows.

Related Insight: Insight 19 - It Took Forever to Describe My Own Work.