BIG MEETING, or a breath of an organization

earlier this week, Monday evening, was the annual ‘BIG MEETING’ at Flux Factory.

we’ve been planning this meeting for nearly two months beforehand. Even still, four people were unavailable (two out of town, two just not present); we were compensated with two bodies who routinely help us with various operations, but still of the remaining thirteen present members in attendance five have only been with us for one or two shows. As such, it was a different climate than the previous ‘big meeting’ – various reasons, new blood, etc.

we acknowledged that last season was the first year in which we put forth a complete four-show season ahead of time, stuck to it, and worked toward specific goals. between the last meeting and now we’ve had major events such as our first auction & gala mirrored by the works on paper exhibition that I co-curated; the Fluxbox show which was featured in Sculpture magazine; Opolis, the third and final installment of the Comix exhibitions; a slew of other events and performances including for myself most-notably the launching of my Normal Space exhibition venue. however, oddly enough we didn’t spend a lick of time actually discussing previous shows. Ahead of us we have the most-daunting timetable yet, including an exhibition not even inside our own state boundaries, an exhibition involving Peter Lynch and Troy Hurtubise of Project Grizzly acclaim, and two shows which aren’t even sorted yet decisions are already being made that will effect the outcome of those shows. My reckoning would say to discuss the previous events in order to better understand our own processes, methodologies, even our own intuitions – apply this knowledge to the upcoming schedule. Move forward from there. But the route instead was to form ‘sub-committees’ to handle show-specific agendas or things more global to the Flux Factory operation – and some things weren’t even really related to the not-for-profit.

I didn’t talk much during the meeting. When someone asked me later that evening or the next evening maybe (can’t remember), why I didn’t say much, I very simply responded ‘I had nothing to say.’

To make a long story short, I’ve spent nearly two years at ze Factory and – regarding the not-for-profit organization – nearly exhausted myself at times. The group is increasingly institutionalizing itself, making further and increasing demands of its own operations, without I believe taking into consideration that in the end it is cogged by human energy and emotion. I’ll explain. When Chris Meigh-Andrews recently paid a visit, one of his first questions was in the scope of ‘is there a pecking order?’ A year ago I would have attempted to find a way to simply acknowledge the presence of the question but manage to create more a topology than a hierarchy with regards to operations; these days, I respond of course there is. It is actually completely natural that there be a pecking order. Humans have always organized themselves into groups – how those groups are formed, and upon what conceptual framework they operate then becomes the interesting and contemporary question. And inevitably, we will run out of steam.

I have tried too hard over the past years to effect my art practices (conceptual, material, etc.) inside the mould of Flux Factory operations. It doesn’t work. After going-on-nine years of incorporated exhibition production, demanding change or shifts is like demanding personal space at a GWAR concert. Not only is personal space impossible but eventually you will get doused with some vile liquid! What I’m trying to say is I need to maneuver myself out of the macro-operations, while maintaining a voice within; Flux Factory doesn’t and won’t likely ever look at art the way I do so. Of course, I want to see it prosper, and I want it to achieve a sense of longevity, and to make an impact with the public and change their perceptions of art and the world, but to do this while achieving my own goals will now require more in/out maneuvers, of placing myself within while maintaining a distance without. It’s tough. It’s unclear. I want to see the beauty of it from the outside again, and I’m sure the future will be exciting.