Alessandra Leruste reflects on her time as a Spilt Milk volunteer
Installation view of ‘re: birth’ at Edinburgh Palette, 2019.
I have worked as a volunteer exhibition assistant in the re:birth show for the past three weeks. I just graduated in Modern and Contemporary Art from the University of Edinburgh. I was eager to put in practice what I had learned during my five years at university and expand on this knowledge with concrete, practical work; Spilt Milk’s latest art show was the perfect occasion to do this.
As I am writing this post in the gallery on the last day of exhibition, the art hangs neatly on the walls, straight – I have checked – and in a sequence that, hopefully, promotes a smooth visiting experience and triggers meaningful links between artworks. The umbilical cord (Laura Ajayi), the soiled knickers (Suzanne Little), the pregnant bellies (Lauren Frances Evans & Kasey Jones), and the blunt image of a baby being born (Josie McCoy) all play with one another in the corner, exploring different aspects of the making of a child. On the other side of the room, different aspects of a mother’s body are exposed: a child’s perception of their mum’s tummy (Crystal Ann Brown), all the weight that a mother’s gift of her own body can carry (Mya Cluff), an exploration of the physicality of the making of art as a way to process frustrations over patriarchal restraints and objectification (Jessica Timmis). Some art focuses on the mother’s relationship with her child (Laura Jane Fooks, Katharina Quecke, Talitha Kukk), some art is more specifically on one’s identity as one becomes a mother, the fear to lose oneself in motherhood (Dawn Yow, Alex Baker), and the new relation a mother needs to develop to her own body and sexuality (Alexandra Knox). At the end of the room, the two biggest, visually boldest pieces (Suzanne Schireson, Freddie Thomas), frame what might be considered the pièce de résistance of the show. Mother Art: Revisited’s piece intrigues as soon as you enter the exhibition space. You hear the strong voices resonate throughout the room, the focal point of the spinning washing machine draws you in, the confusion of textiles, messages and colours invites you to look closer.
Getting to this result was hard work. From the survey results we got from visitors, it is apparent that the variety of works, themes and approaches is a strong point of the exhibition. All of Spilt Milk’s members can submit what they want, and the artworks are incredibly varying in formats, colours, materials and subjects. The only thing that truly binds them is the loose theme of rebirth, and the fact that all artists are mothers. Therefore, arranging the works in a coherent manner, both visually and intellectually, was a challenge. Keeping theory and basic rules in mind is essential, but in the end it is only practice and seeing an exhibition evolve in real time in front of your eyes that teaches you how to make a collection of diverse objects fit in a particular space. I learned just how much a work is transformed by its environment, its position in the room and in relation to other objects. Finding the best arrangement possible and measuring precisely where a work should be, filling up the space little by little while valorising the works of art, was a rewarding experience. I also enjoyed discussing and implementing different promotion strategies, educating the public on Spilt Milk’s important mission and the varied and compelling art practices of its members. It is also always incredibly valuable to learn from the public. Once an exhibition enters in contact with all sorts of people, countless experiences and meanings are created that you would not have anticipated while preparing the exhibition.
Finally, I would like to highlight a complex issue that became apparent while working on re: birth. It is true that the exhibition explores aspects of motherhood that are not always obvious to people who have not experienced it themselves; all the artworks put together nuance and complicate what we collectively understand as motherhood. However, in a sense, the vision of motherhood is also quite restricted. Spilt Milk invites anyone who identifies as both an artist and a mother to join as a member and exhibit in the members show. However, the portrait of motherhood presented in the exhibition, as complex and captivating as it certainly is, mostly focuses on a very cisgender, “normative” vision of motherhood. How can we build a community that works on making visible motherhoods, plural? There are some considerations on class (Jessica Kirkpatrick, Mother Art: Revisited, Freddie Thomas), and there is an extremely important discussion on mental health that can be had around a lot of the artwork (Nadia Nizamudin, Jessica Timmis, Dawn Yow). However, hardly any queer reading is possible and, while there are artists based in different areas of the world, the vast majority of them are white. This is not a criticism of the art that is present or of Spilt Milk’s work. In fact, their policy is one of inclusion and their goal is precisely to amplify marginalised voices. This is more of a question: how do you encourage people who do not fit the “standard” to participate, how do you create an environment where all can feel comfortable? Or is that the wrong way to go about this question? I do not have the answers, but I could not discuss the exhibition without at least highlighting this issue that affects most of the artworld. I believe we should make a concrete effort towards better understanding and solving this issue in our local communities.
Mother Art Revisited ; ‘Interruptions’ - photo Joan Doyle 2019.