Even the smaller organisations that clearly have difficulty raising money, lack innovation, and can’t figure out how to grow their audiences, don’t budge to give space (and by that I mean to give at least a 5-year working contract, not just invite them on a panel talk) to non-liberal BIPOCs who have a vision, know how to plan, raise money, or attract audiences. The fear is real, and it’s not going anywhere.
READEditorial / June 2022
With the end of the war-genocide, a new type of tourism started emerging in Jaffna: war tourism. In this essay, சிந்துஜன் வரதராஜா looks at life inside of a new hotel in the former war zone and explores by way of it the intrinsic relationship of military-occupation with tourism in Eelam.
READLong before justice, tourists arrive
The Freedom Riders Persian podcast follows the story and route of the Freedom Riders. They were African American and white Civil Rights activists who took bus trips through the American South in 1961. The 12-episode podcast is like an audio tour of some of the most iconic Civil Rights landmarks. Through this tour and the making of this podcast, we wanted to learn more and raise awareness among the Persian Speaking Communities about the history of racism and the Civil Rights movement in the US.
READFreedom Riders Persian podcast: A Journey through the South and the Civil Rights Landmarks
Ahhh, collective work! It’s definitely not for everyone, but I firmly believe that combining our forces is the only way to make change happen. There are many particularities in this type of work, and as a legal worker, I often get questions from working groups who have received a collective grant for a project. The NO NIIN crew and I figured it could be helpful to talk a little about two of the most commonly asked questions: the legal status of a working group and making payments to people not part of the core group. Read on!
READSome notes on the legalities of collective work
Close Watch exhibited at the National Finnish Pavilion at Venice Biennale, 2022, is a multimedia installation that, at its core, utilises the artist themself as an embodied intervention within a focused area of artistic research and apparent critique. In the context of this work presented as an exhibition at the national pavilion and its implications of somehow representing Finnish Art, this text seeks to question whether issues pertaining to embodiment and social intervention – and by extension, research conducted and artistic practice developed through it – can ever be free of the power relations implicit in the political, identity-driven understanding of society today.
READWho watches whom? ruminations on power, gaze, and field through Pilvi Takala’s Close Watch
Is it possible for a white institution to say it presents the articulation of people of colour? Is it possible for a non-indigenous institution – which through its national identity participates in the theft of indigenous artifacts and bodies – to say it is giving a place to the ideas and thoughts of the indigenous people? How can an institution talk about the disappearance of universal value judgements and the need for diversity in values within society when it is the final harbinger of value judgements and its permanent staff, which wields this power, is itself not diverse? How does it claim to judge what “diversity” or the subaltern articulate and what of this articulation should be in a museum? What are these claims based upon? The choice of artists? The act itself of legitimizing a voice? Unless the very foundations of this system change, we are all just playing along.
READProblematizing Perspectives and Positions: A Review of ARS22
The images are familiar, quotidian and easily accessible. They do not say that there is violence in the background. Only the exhibition text reveals it. I think those pieces without text would be the most useless and boring. Wouldn’t it be the most boring thing to copy your childhood images while painting? A lovely picture is not enough for me.
READOne Last Exhibition: A Conversation With Sanni Seppä
A significant decision in my career was to abandon gallery-based work and pursue my own interests. I began creating pieces independently without telling anyone when I was supposed to complete them or where they would end up. I found creative ways of showing the works; I performed in public spaces or at different events, often filmed those and uploaded them online. I also started to tell other people’s stories, so the video was an excellent format for that, and it started almost accidentally. This was a tremendous professional change for me, and I have continued working that way more or less until now.
READAccessibility is not static: A Conversation with Jenni-Juulia Wallinheimo-Heimonen
One has to be respectful towards someone willing to tell their story and not impose one’s own opinions and views when someone’s ready to open up their wounds. Respect for the human, the situation and the story is everything. This is common sense.
READWorry and Play: A Conversation With Kristiina ‘Tikke’ Tuura
The abandoned skin of a smoked salmon lies on a dish as everyone’s stomachs are full. The fish has been washed down with sparkling wine, with bubbles that make people tired of wishing everyone a good and blessed midsummer, that makes marveling the good weather too effortful. Each time they celebrate the nightless night by raising their glasses, the edges around their words become softer, blurrier.
READMidsummer spells