The Battery that is Art
Week six — nine to go
This week President Trump accused President Obama of spying on him without evidence. Trump’s Attorney General lied under oath and recused himself from any future investigation into Trump’s campaign. And then there was the announcement of a new Homeland Security Office—VOICE or the Victims of Immigration Crime Engagement, set up to keep track of immigrant crime.
This is day 42 of the Trump presidency and we at 100 Days Action installed an exhibition at Southern Exposure Gallery, putting up the 42 actions we have featured so far as well as ephemera from each participant’s action—along the walls your hand and typewritten poems, photos, ceramics, protest signs. Putting all these actions in one room—these actions that range from the irreverent, the cheeky, the practical, the hopeful, the profound—fills us with the kind of joy that can only come from hearing a variegated chorus, and in so far as these are voices of resistance, we feel uplifted. We are infinitely thankful to Southern Exposure who gave us a space and support in which to present this important work. In the turmoil that are our state institutions, I bid you to stop by the gallery on Saturdays and Sundays from noon to five and fill your heart with this show of resistance. And as always, we invite you to submit actions of your own—100 Days Action has rolling submissions.
This week I was a guest on KQED’s Forum with Michael Krasny to speak about my work as a critic, writer, and co-founder of 100 Days Action. The program, called Bay Area Artists Respond to the Trump Presidency, included Marc Bamuthi Joseph, whose idea that art is not a bridge, but a battery has been haunting me ever since. Marc explained that art is not positioned as a pathway to common ground, in that the artist does not want to make a bridge to a value system that is disagreeable, but the artist does wish to make a bridge to an inspired future.
I am writing this on Sunday morning. Later today, I will be communing at Southern Exposure with other artivists. Later today, I will be thinking about this inspired future that Marc so eloquently described, thinking that even in time of non-crisis artists dream and re-dream this future constantly. What more could we want at 100 Days Action but your voice added to the chorus of resistance, what more than your eyes as witness of this time, what more than your effort added to our effort to strengthen all the ways in which we are united—which the administration tries to convince us is nonexistent and illusory? Don’t swallow the kool-aid and come to one of our events. Let’s be together, celebrate difference, and celebrate radical inclusivity in the only way artivists can—with glitter and wigs and music and our loud voices and our nuanced actions.
COMING UP
3/6: Public Service Announcement by Beth Krebs, a hilarious reminder to stay vigilant
3/7: In Care of the White House by Steven H. Silberg, asking you to flood the White House with your art
3/8: Blue Nails, a short short by Caitlin Myer, “I want to tell you about the nail salon. This is what we did in the old days. Almost all women, and we would compliment each other on the color we chose, we’d talk with the aestheticians about our children and their birthday parties, we’d shake our heads at all the time they spent on social media.”
3/9: We Are the Ones We’ve Been Waiting For by Miriam Wolodarski, a call to send a postcard to your future self
3/10: 1o Commandments for Liberation by an anonymous participant, asking you to come up with the 10th commandment
3/11: The Rhinoceros Project at Kala Art Institute by Michelle Wilson and Anne Beck, inviting you to come together and stitch a nearly-extinct species
3/12: 100 Days 100 Colors by Surabhi Saraf, a Holi celebration reminding us that the color of our skin doesn’t define us: we all become many colors, we are all the same color, we are in this together.
