The BROTHERWISE DISPATCH, VOL.2, ISSUE#4, SEPT-NOV/2010
Miah O’Malley is a visual artist and socio-political activist based out of Brooklyn, New York City.
BROTHERWISE DISPATCH - In the BIO on your website(www.jmomalley.net) you mention that your ideas are "flavored by the Southern Gothic tradition", what are the origins of that artistic tradition? and how did you become exposed to or decide to choose surrealism as your artistic methodology?
MIAH O’MALLEY - The Southern Gothic tradition exerted a natural influence on my way of seeing from a very early age because I was something of a quiet observer, and I saw a lot of disturbing things that nobody talked about. As a small child, I saw a lot of death firsthand (my grandmother choked to death and fell down a flight of stairs, for example) and, typical of the southern Irish American family I was born into, speaking about the incident was out of the question. This gave me an understanding of secrets, which are a motif of the Southern Gothic tradition. There was also mental illness and suicide in my family, which was accepted as part and parcel of any family, and was not to be talked about either.
Growing up as I did in Birmingham, there were also societal issues that were not talked about. My grandparents marked the progression of history in the city with statements like, "that was before the coloreds were on this side of town." When I was old enough to realize there was a problem with this kind of thinking, it was impossible to get anyone in my family to talk about it. It became another dark secret. Add to this that the women in my family were these overwrought southern archetypes who suffered from fainting spells and "visions" in which they communicated with the dead, and you can see all the elements of a Southern Gothic novel.
When I started to be exposed to art, and different "schools" in the history of art, I developed a deep and abiding interest in Surrealism right away. The imagery was the first thing that appealed to me- the disconnect from the logical spoke to my experiences. I started to study their methods eventually, and I felt they were more harmonious with the natural tendencies of human thinking than any other kind of art I'd seen. Later, I would realize that their ideas were based on indigenous methods of creation- shamanism, the collective unconscious, and so on. There was a spirituality that was lacking in all these other kinds of art that I'd seen at the museum or whatever. They were also involved in the the "Contre-Attaque" movement, an anti-facist "Fighting Union of Revolutionary Intellectuals." This gave me the idea that art could be all-encompassing as a way of living, and that a people's art had nothing to do with academic whims or the ruling class. I would also come to realize that this division accounted for the attitudes of the art institutions with regard to more pure art forms- for example, the pejorative use of terms like "outsider art", the refusal to acknowledge forms like graffiti, or the insistence that indigenous artists and street artists were "untrained". Of course, Salvador Dali ruined a lot of what the Surrealists were trying to do, but that's another rant...
BD - Your work, aside from being emotionally stark and spiritually haunting, has a very intimate sensibility to it. Does such an extreme personal method of catharsis assist or hinder its potential for social relevance? In what ways?
MM- This is a tough question for me, because I'm very sensitive about whether my work speaks to other people. My intention is to describe in symbolic form the lived reality of an individual struggle for meaning. Pain, a longing for beauty, sorrow, and existential anxiety are things every person experiences I think, so I hope that my portrayal of these experiences is universal. I try to use a language that is available to every person- for example I strive to create an image that can be read by the viewer based on an emotional response rather than an academic knowledge of art. I don't use institutional references in my work, either stylistically or with regard to ideas. I don't use models in my work, and this is so that I can communicate directly with the viewer. This was very challenging for me at first, both technically and emotionally. I've grown used to using a timer when exposing the film, and I'm still trying to become comfortable with the vulnerable position that I'm in by being the actor in these narratives. Anytime I'm satisfied with an image I've completed, the feeling that follows shortly after is anxiety that someone else is going to eventually be seeing it. But, I think artists have an obligation to give of themselves in this way. The role of the shaman, dreamer, or spiritual vessel in many cultures is to take on the pain of the tribe and use it to seek out information or enlightenment in the spiritual realm.
BD - So tell me what this NUMU ARTS COLLECTIVE is all about and how did you get involved with them?
MM - I actually got involved with Numu through an open call they had to participate in a group show. When I moved up here, I had been picked up by a commercial gallery, and my experience with that place was kind of the last straw for me in terms of being represented by galleries. I decided to try participating in an art collective because I wanted to see what it was about. I had done shows at smaller places like the gallery that was owned by CBGB's, kind of shit hole places you might say, and I found an authentic experience there. I was looking for something like that experience.
To me, the audience at the art collective show is superior to that at a gallery. What I mean is that the people come to an art collective show and they want to experience the work, and have a reaction to what's being shown. The commercial gallery audience is largely comprised of people who are there to "rub elbows", make contacts, and prostrate themselves before any "important people" who might be there. This is a depressing situation if you're hoping to show the work and get feedback, to actually share it with someone. In the art collective, or similar environment, people ask you questions about how you created the work and talk about their feelings about it, which is what I'm looking for.
There are also certain values that are present in the art collective. Craftsmanship is important. Many photographers who can be seen in commercial galleries don't create their own prints, which I find offensive. If you are a so-called photographer who can't print, can't light anything, and need an assistant to load and prep your camera, then you're not actually good at anything. There's also, in the collective, a regard for the creative process and the development of that process. There are workshops to attend, to distill your ideas and skills. I'm currently involved in a collaboration with another artist from the collective, and this is another thing that is encouraged. To me, the collaboration is an opportunity to examine your ideas from a different perspective and to push yourself to bring your best to the situation. That kind of thing would never be addressed in a commercial gallery.
The collective is also an opportunity to give inspiration to others by giving workshops. I present Surrealist process workshops, for example, and they are suitable for visual artists, writers, musicians, or anyone who wants to try a new way to develop ideas.
BD - You're part of a socio-political organization as well, the UHURU movement correct? Could you tell our readers what they are about and how did you end up getting involved with them?
MM - That's correct- I'm a member of Uhuru Solidarity Movement, which is an organization under the leadership of the African People's Socialist Party, and Chairman Omali Yeshitela. Uhuru is a Swahili word that means 'freedom', and was made popular by the Mau Mau freedom fighters in Kenya who resisted British colonial forces. The Solidarity Movement is the response to the call by the African liberation movement of the 1960's for white people to go out and organize other whites in solidarity with the African revolution. Many white groups have failed to do this, or only want to "help out" on their own terms, which is not effective- you can't fight for someone else's liberation on your terms. This is why we work under the leadership of African people themselves. When I say 'African', I am using the terminology of the Chairman and the African Socialist International, who do not differentiate between African and diasporic peoples. The phrase "One Africa! One Nation!" is used in the movement to describe the unity of the organized resistance of the worldwide African working class.
As a white person living in the largest imperialist country, I recognize the conditions of colonized people. African and Latino people are locked away in forced labor camps and terrorized by the state, while the native people of this land have been forced into concentration camps known as "reservations". The genocide of colonized people the world over is ongoing, and is not something that can be hidden away behind the neo-colonial figurehead we currently have as a president. Kwame Nkruma said that neo-colonial governments ("white power in black face") are the death throes of imperialism, and we can see that this is real. Colonized peoples of the world are fighting back, and the time is ripe for revolution. In the Solidarity Movement, we say no peace while imperialism is intact. We don't want "peace". We unite with victory to the Somalian insurgents, victory to the Palestinian insurgents, and all power to the people!
I get very excited about this. My involvement with the Uhuru Movement started after I saw a presentation by the Chairman in Philly. I had been involved with white socialist groups and had found them to be pointless and ineffective in terms of real change. They were generally reformist and just wanted a bigger piece of the pie from the system. I was brought into the movement by Ali Hoehne from Philadelphia, who provides leadership to me as I organize in NYC. I am currently working on our Earth Day action (among numerous other things) in which we put out the call to unite not just with "green" but with red, black, and green. The destruction of the environment and the exploitation of human beings are symptoms of the same disease, parasitic capitalism. It's not enough to plant a tree or join a car pool. Capitalism requires constant growth to survive, and this growth is driven through the theft of resources from people. There is no such thing as a more sustainable capitalism, or a "green" capitalism that is oiled by the blood of human beings. True peace and prosperity for Mother Earth and all humanity will come through the liberation of African and all colonized peoples. If you would like to join the movement as a member, or find out more information, contact me at miahuhuru@gmail.com.
BD - Well stated, nice plug at the end by the way, its no wonder you are such an effective activist. What is the relationship between your artistic endeavors and your responsibilities as an socio-political activist?
MM - I'm actually working this out for myself at the moment. I'm at a point of realization that my work has been very individualistic, and I'm starting to really think about that. For me, the work is a spiritual practice and I am thinking about how this spirituality can possibly be expanded to include others, beyond just sharing the work with viewers. I'm involved in a collaboration right now which will culminate in a show in July. The title of the show is 'Liminal Bodies', and is an exploration of thresholds in the creative process with regard to the individual. The purpose of the collaboration is to question accepted ideas of the creative process as an individual act resulting in a completed artifact. I don't know what exactly will happen, but I am really looking forward to it. My collaborative partner, Rebeca Olguin, and I have been working out a system of communication and hybridization as a point of departure, and I have already found this both expanding and intimidating in terms of artistic growth. It's a very intimate act, if you're following through on it completely. The work will not just be collaborative in terms of ideas, but in actual physical execution as well, meaning that she will paint and draw on my photographs and I will scratch and impose photographic work on her drawings and paintings. We will be creating the work in its physical form together, each dealing with the other's way of thinking, ideas, shortcomings, and skills. This is like having someone else's hands inside your mouth feeling for the subtleties of your speech.
Our way of thinking in this work is flavored by the influence of Peruvian shamanic traditions, among many other things. The Peruvian shaman of the Andes journeyed to the Lower World by traveling through four chambers, including the Chamber of Contracts, the Chamber of Grace, and the Chamber of Treasures. It is in the Chamber of Grace that one makes the decision whether or not to retrieve the younger self found in the first chamber, and to bring him home in a way that honors all that is good and beautiful in him, and all that is flawed, broken, and irretrievable.
This has been another BROTHERWISE FIVE interview, during which The BROTHERWISE DISPATCH interrogates intellectuals, artists and activists with five probing questions to the delight of our readers.
on behalf of Miah O’Malley and The BROTHERWISE DISPATCH
peace,
-A. Shahid Stover
(This interview of Miah O'Malley for The BROTHERWISE DISPATCH was conducted by A. Shahid Stover intermittently via email between March 19th-31st of 2010.)
No comments:
Post a Comment