Your text work, Whoever [for the Something Big exhibit at Auckland Art Fair], is a nod to the idea that public spaces, including retail or art institutions, should make you feel welcome, whoever you might be. You identify as a young, brown, queer female. Have you experienced feeling unwelcome because of your gender, race or sexuality?
I don’t even know where to begin. I mean the short answer is yes, and almost daily.
I will [tell] one of my [favourite moments], and probably least traumatic to reshare, but last year I was invited to be a part of a group show, and the curator sat me down to talk to me about my practice.
She told me that “it seems kind of trendy to show brown people at the moment”, then asked “do we really need to dismantle white male voices if they’re making good art?” and then requested I make “smaller, quieter works as you seem to take up a lot of space”.
I mean, some cursory research would inform anyone that that is kind of the point.
Double entendre and double agency are key concerns in my practice. I have some responsibility, as a brown person (Indian and P?keh?) who is invited into these art spaces, to offer some sort of representation.
What I struggled with during art study was often not finding people who looked like me, who made art like me, or talked about the things that I talked about, or shared stories or histories that I could relate to.
I don’t know where I sit but it’s often just in the middle ground with feet in both worlds. However, there always seems to be some conditional entry fee on my being invited in.
While considering working with Tiffany and Co., you mentioned you were drawn to and directly referenced their recent ‘Will You’ campaign that celebrated real-life gay couples getting married. Beyond perhaps the obvious commercial drivers for a campaign like this, what was it about this advertising concept that you found encouraging for a large luxury brand? And how did Tiffany respond to your ideas?
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Advertise with NZME.I think the fact that it was one of the first major companies to show real-life queer and mixed-race couples as part of a new launch was incredible.
There is always more work to do, but I think it was a big nice step.
Tiffany and Co. has been perhaps one of the most supportive and enthusiastic institutions I have worked with. It hasn’t been easy in other shows.
Tiffany has actively tried to understand my research, practice and position, and has gone out of its way to accommodate me and my voice.
What is it about language that you enjoy exploring in your artistic practice?
My mother is Indian, and raised Hindu, and my father was European, raised Catholic, and spirituality was their meeting ground. My three brothers and I were brought up with Rumi’s sentiment “let the beauty we love be what we do”.
We grew up on a farm in Pukerua Bay, about an hour away from school. My parents encouraged us to go out and make the most of our opportunities, and to learn as much as possible about anything that tickled us.
Both my parents have a real love of language if we weren’t spending our commutes chin-wagging, debating, or reading, there were audio books and segments on National Radio to pass the time.
All four of us had speech and drama lessons my parents were adamant we would be given the tools to articulate our thoughts and ideas and establish our voices, being very much aware of how difficult it would be to navigate the world around us as children of mixed-race heritage.
You have said you are fascinated with the full stop. Can you explain why you are drawn to this punctuation mark and what it means to you personally? Could there be other forms of punctuation you might explore in the future?
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Advertise with NZME.While a full stop indicates the end of a sentence, the beginning of a new thought, and a space to breathe, in my previous day job (at a car dealership) it came to refer to the way it was used in company emails.
A job well done was “celebrated” with a dealership-wide email.
The full stop at the end of the sentiment raises the question of the authenticity of the statement.
For instance, the often overused phrases ‘Good job.’ Or ‘Well done to all.’
I found this generic affirmation to be issued out of obligation, devoid of actual feeling by the primarily white male supervisors and managers.
The sentiment reads slightly sarcastically, even aggressively. Would it be hard to use an exclamation mark, and show some level of enthusiasm?
The full stop has now come to be a key part of my works.
Who gets to speak, and where and why, have been integral motivations for your work. You also mentioned you were inspired by British artist Martin Creed's neon sign Whatever. In what ways have you responded to this work? Do you think a large majority of the viewers walk past and think exactly that? Is it frustrating as an artist that you can't control viewer engagement?
My practice centres on the idea of institutionalising inclusion with a focus on working parents, communities of colour, the LGBTQ community and women.
Martin Creed’s installation seeks to “become part of the skyline of a city that welcomes people, whatever their backgrounds, beliefs or hopes”.
As for the viewers, you never really know how people are going to respond. I mean you can hazard a guess, or try to employ tricksies to encourage or suggest particular mode reading.
On one level, my works tend to just do what they say on the box, and I dig that, and there are some little moments I slip in for myself.
I love playwright Jacob Rajan’s idea of “humour as a trojan horse into the fortified gates of a cynical world”, so the novel, the ridiculous, and the element of surprise are instrumental to me.
