Subversion
the undermining of the power and authority of an established system or institution,
noun, sub·ver·sion səb-ˈvər-zhən : the act of overthrowing : the state of being overthrown. especially : an attempt to overthrow or undermine a government or political system by persons working secretly within the country involved
I have been thinking a lot lately about what it is that I do. I have been writing many applications for grants to support the work that I do for Street Art Oslo producing and curating other artists, and I am also doing more work as an artist myself. I still feel weird calling myself one, because I don’t think I am one in the sense that I think an artist “should” be. Never went to art school, and have only done self-produced exhibitions, plus unsanctioned creative interventions, which are technically illegal. I don’t think I’m particularly good at anything that I’m doing compared to other people, and I don’t really know what I am doing either most of the time, I just go with whatever idea or image I get about something I want to do or make.
I’ve always loved art, all forms of art. I dreamt about being an artist growing up, but the external expectations of what I should do with my life lead me on a different path for decades. Or maybe not, maybe I was always heading in this direction in some way.
Tomorrow, I’m going to teach my first class at an art school. I never imagined I would, and I’m not sure if I believe I can. I love teaching though. I think that if you strip me down to my core purpose to find what drives me, it would be my desire to see that moment in another, when they realize something they didn’t just a split second before. That moment of wonder, discovery, connection, a shift in time, where there’s a before, and an after, and now nothing is the same. I love that occurrence, in myself just as much as in others.
People have different styles for teaching. I think mine is to not tell you what I think is right, but help you ask the questions, that if answered, will let you find the answers to what you need to know.
And I think that’s why I make art as well. I think the two are completely linked. I want you to see the truth, whatever that may be for you. I want you to know what is the most important thing for you about your life, and I want you to know who you are, what you love, what you want.
I have realized lately that I am actually working on something coherent, and have been for years, and it isn’t as random as I’ve thought. Because I realized that mine is a subversive art practice.
I was struggling to unite all the different parts of what I was up to, and I just felt super pretentious whenever I tried to claim different titles, like “writer”, or “painter”, or “photographer”, or “activist” or whatever, it just felt fake and like I was trying to be something I wasn’t, because I am neither and many elements of them and more at the same time. Zooming out, I can now see that it’s not about the product, or form, but the process, the practice, the act, the intent to be subversive; to question, to challenge, to change.
And I can see the same red line through all my previous years in social work and child protective services, in my approach to systems and structures not as rules never to be broken, but as points of impact, with the potential to reveal who we are as we collide against them. Not to be used for punishment, but for insight. And even when I was teaching at the university college, I would advice my students to start practicing challenging their “superiors” right there in class with me, because I would not consider them ready to begin their work if they were not prepared to riot against everyone for what was right. How else could they ever fully claim to be on the side of the child they were legally and ethically bound to fight for?
I am still figuring out how to be brave about all of these things. I don’t have all the answers, and I’m sure there are many people much better at doing them than I am. But I’ll keep on trying.
Speaking of, I just admitted first ever application to be part of an annual art exhibition here in Oslo, Høstutstillingen. I sent in for consideration three of my paintings, Antigone (2023), Eva (2024) and Kali (2023). When I look at the art that have been selected previous years, I feel incredibly intimated and like I have no place even asking to have any of my work considered, which is ultimately the main reason for doing it.
“They will not fit in at all”, “they’re not good enough”, “who do you think you are”, and an entire compilation of other self-defeating tracks are now playing very loudly in my head, and I will feel even worse after writing about it in this text and telling everyone about it. But so what. Maybe knowing this can make it a little easier for you to do something you think is scary. There’s no growth in complacency.
Wish me luck.