Below the Radar Transcript
Episode 229: See How We Run! Art as Agency, Autonomy and Community with Demi London and Moroti George
Speakers: Samantha Walters, Julia Aoki, Kathy Feng, Moroti George, Demi London
[theme music]
Samantha Walters 0:07
Hello listeners, welcome to See How We Run! Conversations with arts and cultural workers. This is a special Below the Radar series hosted by…
Julia Aoki 0:17
Julia Aoki.
Kathy Feng 0:18
Kathy Feng.
Samantha Walters 0:19
And Samantha Walters. See How We Run! is a mini series looking at local arts collectives and organizations, highlighting conversations about creation, space making, accessibility and self determination within the framework of Vancouver's cityscape. These episodes are recorded on the unceded territories of the Musqueam Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh nations.
Julia Aoki 0:42
On this episode of See How We Run! we're joined by Gallery Gachet's executive director, Demi London and artistic director, Moroti George to talk about the evolution of Gachet's approach to supporting artistic creation and exhibition in ways that are accessible to and supportive of people facing systemic barriers and social marginalization. We speak about the ways the gallery's programming and operations changed over time, in response to shifts in funding, space and the needs of the community. And we discuss their personal entry points into their work at the gallery
[theme music fades]
Julia Aoki 1:20
Welcome to Below the Radar. My name is Julia Aoki, and I'm your host this week. And today I'm joined by two lovely guests, Demi London and Moroti George. Welcome.
Moroti George 1:30
Thank you.
Demi London 1:30
Hi.
Julia Aoki 1:32
So I thought maybe we could start by having you introduce yourselves.
Demi London 1:35
So my name is Demi London and, I don't know, when I think about myself, I think about myself in three parts: myself as a person and practicing artist, my place within family, and then my place within work, and how those things kind of connect and are in conflict with each other.
But yeah, I have a—an art practice, which I find right now is kind of informed by my work at Gachet, in that I spend a lot of time platforming other people’s work and supporting them in the exhibition. Right now I'm really consumed with the idea of uncreating work and dissolving it and how work can disappear, kind of expediting ephemera, I guess.
And within family, I have three children, one who's an adult now, two in late-teenagerhood, and they're all incredible people. So different than me and just, yeah, a pleasure to be kind of like brought along and learn my life through them. And yeah, I have a—also a partner who is a grave digger and mycelial-like thinker that I like thinking my way through life with.
And at work I'm the Executive Director at Gachet. And yeah, working with Moroti and VB and Sol, it's a situation unlike I've ever found myself in before and super grateful, again, to just kind of like, think my way through things with them. I think we're all—we all come from very different places and because of that Gachet is a really interesting place right now.
Moroti George 3:03
My name is Moroti George, I would say that I am a curator and an educator. My curatorial practice is constantly growing, I'm constantly learning. I think that a lot of the learning that I have been doing ever since I started my tenure at Gachet has been a mix of learning and unlearning. So kind of coming out of an institution that was very heavy on multiple ways of looking at the world. But like, all those multiple ways are like very grounded in one way of looking at the world. And looking at art, to working in a gallery space in the Downtown Eastside and another gallery space in Surrey, and kind of understanding what art and like community building and like rigor and practice, and like research can do, outside of the canon, and also within the canon, sometimes.
In my professional life. I am the artistic director at Gallery Gachet, artistic director, curator, and I am also the curatorial lead at the Black Art Centre. And coming into Gachet was very interesting for me, I got the job while I was still, during my master's program. So, it was very fun for me, at first, and like, I'm also thinking back to it, and I am like, how was I able to do that. But I would learn a concept in school and I'm like, "Ooh, I'm using this at the gallery." So, to an extent, I was kind of cheating. I always say I'm cheating, but like I'm not. That's one thing Demi is teaching me, how intelligence, like, presents itself in many ways.
But coming into the Gachet, I was very excited. The gallery has a very long history that I really admired. And the gallery was a part of my life passively in the sense that I would, like, walk by it when I'm in school, when I was in school, go to it during my breaks. And it's like, very weird how life just, like, is, like, this is going to be your job for, like, a while. So be ready. And I'm just thinking a lot about, like, the state of the world, the state of the world on a smaller scale in the Downtown Eastside and, like, in Vancouver, and Musqueam, and these are just ideas and, like, thoughts that kind of shape how I move through the spaces I am in and, like, the spaces that I run slash oversee, with the help of amazing people. Yeah, I think that's me.
Julia Aoki 5:53
That's really great and it's a nice segue, because you mentioned the history of Gachet, which I think it's quite interesting. The gallery has a really unique place in the arts, in Vancouver, by virtue of its historical mandate, serving and centering mental health patients is how I think it was framed originally. So, I was wondering if you could talk about the history of Gachet, how it was formed, what community it was set up to serve, and how it has approached “art as therapy.”
Demi London 6:19
Yeah, so I think, as far as who Gachet is there to serve and what its membership is, is folks living with mental illness, folks who are neurodiverse, folks who use drugs, and folks living with trauma and 30—over 30 years ago, the, like, arena that people living with mental illness lived in, is very different than it is now. And there's a lot of, kind of like, shame associated with diagnosis. There's a lot of really brutal institutionalization with folks who are living with conditions. And I know that Gachet, kind of like, started with this idea of art as therapy. I'd like to kind of try to frame it more as art as agency and art as autonomy and art as community. Because that's what it was doing. Like, yes, it has kind of played, like, a therapeutic role, but in that it was giving people the liberty to be themselves and to express themselves in whatever those manifestations are.
Gachet has always tried to create an art space and a maker space and a thinking space for people who face systemic barriers and social marginalization, and have historically been edged out of what we think of an art gallery as being. And it's gone through a lot of different iterations. The first, like—it was kind of in a room in a basement in a home. And then it grew to a really substantial space that had a large exhibition space, a large studio space, and a large kitchen. And so you had the making, the presenting, and then the socializing all happening within one space. At that time, Gachet was funded by Vancouver Coastal Health, and it was like, I'm sure it was more complicated than this, but it was kind of like a blank cheque for them to run a space on their own as they saw fit. And so it was, like, a very kind of like, freeing place for a lot of people. It is no longer funded by Vancouver Coastal Health, there was funding cuts, this is going back about eight years ago now, I think.
And the funding cuts along with rent increases meant that Gachet needed to move into a different space. And I would say now we're kind of in this in-between space. It's kind of in between, like a basement room and like this larger, kind of like, community centre.
Like, right now we have a space that functions as an exhibition space and administrative space, and then tries to do other things in-between. And a large part of how Gachet has shifted over time is also how it's funded, now that it's not funded by Coastal Health. We are funded by the Canada Council for the Arts, BC Arts Council, and very typical art space funders. And so Gachet is now beholden to, kind of like, a whole different set of reporting, programming, like the way that we are funded now really has impacted our activities. It's no longer just kind of like a space to be what you want it to be.
It is a space that, yeah, is beholden to a set of criteria, as outlined by these governing bodies. So, hopefully, that kind of explains the shift in, in time and history and—
Moroti George 9:27
Even with that, it's—it is a very nuanced and, like, kind of beautiful history. I would say that anytime I hear it, it's interesting to see like how institutions kind of have these waves and, like, these peaks, and then, like, drop, and I do think that Gachet is very much in that in-between space and it has been an interesting exploration of what we can do as a gallery space and, like, in the hopes that more gallery spaces around us would do the same. So, in the sense that, like, the gallery doesn't have the capacity to run it the way that people historically knew it could run—it did run, but we are still finding a way to try and make ourselves grounded in community. And I think that part of the job and, like, the work of making yourself grounded in community is also knowing what you can offer and what you cannot offer. And, for us, what we can offer is space, we can offer, like, artist support.
I always feel so uncomfortable saying this, because there is so much culture in the Downtown Eastside and like a gallery space and—thanks to Demi, Demi taught me this, a gallery space doesn't validate what culture is—good culture—and what culture doesn't deserve to be in a gallery space. But, like, on the outside, it is a good thing when there is a cultural space in the heart of the Downtown Eastside aside from what is showcased in this space. It's also what the space means to people and how people get to use the space and how we get to try and be accountable, most of the time successfully, to the communities that we are intertwined with.
And I would say that like, another thing that has grown in the past year of our tenureship, that I have noticed, is the audience that we have. It's—we were talking about the Oppenheimer Show the other day and how, like, there were people from the community and art people and people, like, very rooted in academia and all that kind of stuff. And it's, I think for us, it's kind of interesting to see, like, "Oh, we're on your radar now.” Is it a good thing or a bad thing? But I think that it's the amalgamation of bodies that are kind of drawn to the gallery now. I think there's something interesting and, like, worthwhile in that, that kind of speaks to what a space can actually do and what an institution can do.
Julia Aoki 12:15
Yeah, that's really interesting. I think there's a kind of productive and possibly troubling tension there between what it is to critique hierarchies of culture, but also to serve a community that wants a space to privilege their ideas and, and to support, you know, their work to fruition. So, I thought I would maybe drill down a little bit further into sort of the history through the role of the membership in the gallery. So, I know that Gachet has had a uniquely active membership that can be involved in the daily functioning of the gallery and in the gallery's programming. And I was wondering if you could speak to how that model has worked historically for the organization, how members were involved in governance, and, and the importance of the members art shows to the organization's programming.
Moroti George 13:00
So, the Gachet membership model in the past, it kind of worked. I will say, I will compare it to VANDU, though the members were actively engaged in the decision making of the gallery space and, and programming the shows for the gallery. But a lot of this was happening while Gachet was funded by Vancouver Coastal Health. And like this is kind of the shifts that we were talking about with, even, I think, the main issue here is—I don't want to say this in case someone from Canada Council hears this and they're like, no money for you ever again—but it's kind of grounded and, and what arts funding bodies consider necessary operational expenses, and like their requirements for what arts spaces should do. So, because, because of this shift that happened in Gachet, based on our funding, there was more so of a need of people who are like—I don't say went to school for this, but “professionals” in art is the word, so like, doing the day-to-day running, and like the grant writing, and like the management and all of that. And because of that, unfortunately, members of Gachet couldn't participate in Gachet the way they used to. A huge part of what I am trying to do, and underline at Gachet, is not making the assumption that we know what people want. It's kind of like asking these questions and seeing what we are offering and seeing where it's good and seeing where it fails.
So, our membership system right now is, I would say it's, kind of like, multi-pronged. So, we have people who want to know what's going on in the gallery. We have volunteers who, for the most part, are made up of people living in the Downtown Eastside. And I will say that another part of our membership too, is people who know of the gallery and want to use the gallery for something, whether it's, kind of, attending art workshops, or coming to the gallery to paint during a Expressive Arts or free time, or using the gallery for a community gathering.
I think there is still the essence of community in a sense. I don't even know if community is the word, but there is—there are people who know that we still exist, who understand that things have changed and have been extremely gracious to, with how they received us and how they want to engage with the gallery in a way that is suitable for all parties involved. It's kind of difficult knowing that, like, wow, the gallery used to do so much more and it's kind of hard to like not put blame on yourself in a way. I think that that's kind of where you need to come down to earth and be like, oh, these are like—sometimes change is good. But, like, also, sometimes change was, like, forced on us because of a situation.
Demi London 16:05
Yeah, I think, yeah, like the changing nature of membership at Gachet is really interesting, like, in that it used to operate more as, I would say like as an arts collective rather than an artist-run centre. And because there was a bigger space to, to operate, you had positions like, like people would take on the roles of like a studio manager and a kitchen manager and an exhibition manager and that they would have to kind of all work in tandem with each other and kind of figure out how the daily operations of this really big space operated. And when we switched into to considerably smaller space, and then kind of started that transition to a more like, traditional and formulaic artists-run centre model, a lot of the, I don't know, like excitement about those positions, it did really kind of like dissolve, and it fell more to a smaller staff to figure out what the roles were that we were doing, and then where it was we needed help, and then invite folks in to to assist with that.
And, yeah, I think that the other thing that's happened with membership is that in the arts collective model, it was a really rigorous process. In order to become a member of the collective, you had to put your hours in, you had to put your volunteer hours in, people were training each other, mentoring each other. And you had to kind of like, really stick it out in order to hit that, that kind of like place in the collective.
And now I would say we have a very opposite approach where membership is as low-barrier as we can make it. Like, do you have an email address? Awesome, you're a member. Do you have a phone number? Awesome, you’re a member. Like, are you showing up? Cool, you're a member. And just yeah, just kind of trying to make it as open as possible and to meet people where they're at, not to have this commitment of, be here, this time, put in these hours. Because where we are right now, that doesn't work. And it's not, it doesn't have a way of kind of, yeah, inviting people in. We find that, that it, like, the old model was actually exclusionary, to kind of like the way that we have to operate now.
Moroti George 18:02
I think that even with the way we're working now, I think that kind of allows people to engage in a way that's intentional. And like, I wouldn't say that we are being exploited in any way. But like people want different things from when they are aligning to slash with an institution. So there are people who actually want volunteer hours for whatever reason, or sometimes need volunteer hours. So, like one of our members is running the volunteer coordination alongside V, and I would say it's going excellently well, because it kind of bringing things into fruition, if that makes sense.
And I think that like that's the general foundation of what we're trying to do with this membership, in the sense that, like, we're trying our best not to be gatekeepy, but we're also like, looking at the reality in the sense that, like, we're staff, we don't want to, like, just hoard board bodies and be, like, yeah, “you are part of the Gachet family,” or whatever that means. But instead allowing people to engage as best as—as much or as little as they want to. And it's always good when you are hearing from other people about, like, "Oh, I think you should do this," and, like, "I think you should do that." And it's—a lot of the times, stuff from like, our membership just, like, pops up and, like, we're kind of doing something for the space. I guess it's keeping with, like, the tradition in a sense of, like, how Gachet used to run, essentially.
Demi London 19:36
Yeah, like, I try to conceptualize it as, like, looking at Gachet as like an ecosystem and, like, you know, we've got kind of the core staff who are operating things, but who are they kind of pulling in from community? Who is being invited in? And we've got people who are coming in and painting and we've got people who are coming in, and learning how to hang shows, like, I would say that there is a spirit of mentorship that runs through the arts collective model, and then the artist run centre model. I don't think that's changed, it's just kind of at a different scale and plays out a little bit differently.
And yeah, and another thing, like, when we're talking about volunteerism, that's a really contentious and ethical issue in our neighborhood to be asking people to come in and volunteer their time when they are houseless, or, you know, like, we can't do that. And so when people are coming in and participating in the ecosystem and the gallery in those ways, we are trying to find other ways that we can support them, like whether that's through honorarium stipends, through giving them a studio space, art materials, whatever. Like there's, that can look like a lot of different things, depending on the individual. But, I would say that the thing that we're really kind of focusing on right now is, how is membership reciprocal?
Julia Aoki 20:40
That's interesting. There seems to be an incredible openness, but also intentionality behind what you're doing right now. And that kind of responsiveness to the community, which, having been an arts administrator in the past, I find that really exciting, also, potentially frightening in terms of the operational obligations and systems that need to be in place to do that. Yeah, actually, again, that's a, that's a good segue, I think, because I was thinking that a lot has changed for Gachet in its 30 years of operation, and a lot has changed for the community it operates in. So, I was wondering if you could talk to the evolution of the organization's model and programming, and the shifting context that has prompted those changes? And just to expand on that, it feels like a very unique space to me in the wider landscape of artists-run centres, which I think you've touched on quite a bit, but I think partly what makes it seem so unique is that it has a specific kind of set of obligations and responsibilities to its community.
Moroti George 21:42
I think you should start with operational, because people always want to hear about operational stuff. I think programming is boring.
Demi London 21:52
I feel the opposite. Yeah, yeah, I'm always like, "Oh, wow," when I get to have, like, a conversation, that's not operational. I'm like, that's why I'm here like, and then I slipped back to, like, writing the grants. Yeah, operationally, I think in a lot of ways, we've kind of touched on the biggest shifts there like, like, as far as kind of like the changing nature of the space and the funding. I don't know, I want to talk about programming.
Moroti George 22:17
I can start talking about programming.
Demi London 22:20
That's where, because I, because I think that's where people feel like it's kind of like—
Moroti George 22:25
Changed the most.
Demi London 22:26
Changed the most. But I would argue that it hasn't. Like—
Moroti George 22:28
It's, it's, it's funny being at the brunt of that conversation and, like, being the, like, face of that, where you are like, "What have you done?" and I'm like, "I am doing what has been done before." It's not reinventing the wheel. It's kind of like adding modifications, if that makes sense.
Demi London 22:48
And responding to what it's like now.
Moroti George 22:50
Yeah.
Demi London 22:51
Like, that's, that's the change, but it's like, but we have to be realistic about that.
Moroti George 22:55
Yeah, I think that for me, and like also based off the things that I am seeing in the Downtown Eastside, I am seeing in like, the general political landscape of the world, I think that like one thing, one conversation that I did address, and, like, with the board, our outgoing board, and like with individual members of the community, is just the tagline about like art and therapy and like art and like survival, which is good at its foundation, but like, it's something that is contentious to a lot of people in the Downtown Eastside because as much as Gachet has a history with members of the Downtown Eastside, there are a lot of people who validly have not come into Gachet for their entire life in the Downtown Eastside because it's not important to them, which is valid. So, I think that it's important to be honest and intentional with, like, what a gallery space can offer, and what we can do with our programming.
And the other day, when Demi and I were having this conversation, I have been thinking a lot about the general discourse and I would say that sometimes I would hope that artists are, like, contributing to the broader societal discourse. And when I do have studio visits, and I do talk to potential artists about showing at Gachet, I'm always very interested with how, like, their work interfaces with Gachet's mandate, mandate on our positionality in the Downtown Eastside. And just the general things happening on the broader scale, when we do, like, welcomes, we have an Indigenous elder do welcomes for our opening. But, like, when Demi and I give our opening remarks, we always talk about how we are situated in a space which has kind of received a lot of the, I say hyper-aesthetic effects to be, like, academic, but I think you use another word that I forget now, but, like, the after effects of colonization and the dispossession of Indigenous bodies in so-called Vancouver and the kind of the also, like, dispossession of the humanity of black and brown bodies in so-called Vancouver and Canada as a whole.
So, I think being in a space like we are, with the people around us, I think that it's very important that we kind of look at new approaches to the curatorial, for example, new approaches to operational funding sources and community building. So, I think that our programming, I'm always trying to find a good balance in the sense that I think that Gachet is a space that kind of hold very theoretical, rigorous exhibitions, but it's also a show that—a space that can show works that are very much rooted in lived experiences and where those intersect. I think that the idea that there should be one or the other and the space should dedicate itself to one, it's, it's so unrealistic to me and I think that's—I always say that Gachet is special because—not because I work there and I'm like deluded— But like I—also because I haven't—I haven't seen stuff like this. We just came off a very interesting and beautiful exhibition run with Morgan Possberg's Kiskisiwin, and I think you saw it.
Julia Aoki 26:39
I did, yeah.
Moroti George 26:41
And it was a very abstract show, very rigorous, and I felt the responsibility to respond to the work in a very research heavy way. But it was an abstract show. Someone came to me and was like, "This looks like a show that will be at the MOA." And I was like, "Really?" Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I don't know. And it was nice to have a show like that. And it did do something for the community. And it was interesting seeing how different people interacted with the show. It was this—we had this Indigenous elder, who I have spoken to several times, walk into the gallery, and she was like, "This feels like home, like, how did you do this?" And I was like, "I didn't do it, the artist did." And we had arts people be like, "Wow, this is amazing. Thank you." Blah, blah, blah. And it was nice.
And now at the space, we have the Oppenheimer Art Show and it's filled with work that is made by people living in the vicinity, made by people who came to Gachet and went to Oppenheimer Park to make work for this show. And it's, it's really, I don't want to say that—I'm being very careful with saying that the works reflect the state of the Downtown Eastside because to some extent, they do, and to some extent, they don't. But I think that more than anything else, they kind of reinforced the idea of presence, the fact that, like, there are people here, there are people who want to create, there is a space where people can create. Three spaces, actually, because Oppenheimer, Budzey and Gachet, and there is, there is some sort of power in that if people, like, the general society, can recognize that, I wonder what that can do for how people interact with the residents of the Downtown Eastside, how people want to fund the Downtown Eastside and hope for a better change for the people living there, and just how we interact with things that we do not want to be confronted with.
So, I think that—something that I am thinking a lot about is—I'm trying to do is, finding that balance, finding how we can best respond directly to being in the Downtown Eastside and how we can support the works of artists in the Downtown Eastside, but also make works, and showcase works that are in response to the general, broader political situations that the Downtown Eastside kind of exemplify in the world and like things that we are not doing right. So, I always talk a lot about, like, multiple entry points to an artwork. So, I think that like, it's only fitting to say that there are multiple entry points to Gachet—And what we're trying to do there, especially during, like, both of our tenures. And of course, this can change when the next person comes. One thing I'm learning is that we are, I can make mistakes, Demi can make mistakes, but like the intent—
The intention is always there, the intention is good, and we are trying our best. And maybe the person that comes after us wants to change gears completely and that's something that we are going to have to accept and it's, we put, especially working for a nonprofit, it kind of feels like you're putting your entire life force into it. So—and I do care so much about Gachet, I sometimes—should I say this on camera? You can edit this out. But like, sometimes I spend seven days a week at Gachet.
At different times, of course—I am paid a very livable wage. But it's, it's funny because people become so tied to the institutions that they are running. And I too, sometimes, do that. But I think that it's also very important to understand that institutions are made up of bodies and people, and sometimes these people would be right, would kind of lead an, a necessary change. And when they're gone, they're gone. So, I guess that's a very long way of answering. I've had a lot of practice defending our programming.
Demi London 31:04
Yeah, thank you, like, yeah, I'm glad we started with programming because I think the way that that expresses itself operationally, is—you know, when Moroti is talking about that balance, striking that balance between kind of like the professional, “professional”—I'm doing air quotes right now—exhibitions, in balance with our community exhibitions, one way that we found to kind of like have those two kind of spaces overlap is through a program we have called Expressive Arts. And it's a program that runs every Monday. It's drop in studio time, folks can come in and use a space to make, there's free food, there's free art materials, it just kind of operates as an auxiliary studio space for the Downtown Eastside. And every time we have a new exhibition, we ask the artists that is showing to come and spend an afternoon in the Expressive Art studio. And so the folks who come to use the studio are making work surrounded by the artwork that's hanging, because we don't have a workshop space, we do it just right in the gallery space. And, and the exhibiting artists gets to come in and have conversations and suggest new ways of approaching artwork, new techniques, material, exploration.
And when those Mondays, when we have those artists, that's where Gachet makes the most sense to me. That's where we've got the community on the ground. We've got the, yeah, the—and the exhibiting artist, and it all, kind of like, coalesces into just like a really beautiful and easy afternoon. And it's really funny, because when, you know, when we're kind of like talking to the artists about, you know, coming in for Expressive Arts to, like, okay, like, “Should I prepare a PowerPoint and like an artist talk?” And, like, you know, kind of people who are used to going and talking about art in these, like, really academic or professional settings. And it's like, please don't do anything, just be here, be yourself. No one—we're—yeah, you don't need to blow anyone out of the water, you just need to kind of like come and spend some time. And that's really what it is.
So yeah, operationally, that's how it kind of clicks, I think. And another thing, I think operationally and this, this is still an aspiration, but it's a vacancy, we've realized kind of in our operations is we've got an incredible Board of Directors, I mean, it just—every year, I just keep getting blown over by like the people that want to be involved in and help with this, like with this project. But this is kind of going back to that idea of volunteerism in that we have a Board of Directors who are volunteering their time, these folks are coming from a place of privilege and a place of stability that our membership isn't coming from. And so to have kind of that decision making power, and that that governance coming from a place of privilege exclusively doesn't work, no matter how well intentioned folks are and no matter how aware they are of issues that are happening. And so an aspiration in this next year is to create a—an auxiliary board comprised of Downtown Eastside residents. And it would be a paid position who would work to, work alongside the Board to kind of like inform them of what is important to them, what they are perceiving as kind of the needs and most, things that are most urgent, so that we aren't just kind of making these decisions, like in a Zoom room, floating in space, it has to be deeply rooted with, yeah, with what's happening outside of our doors, which is a lot right now.
You know, when I first started at Gachet two years ago, I moved to Vancouver for this position. And it took a lot of time to get used to being in the neighborhood every day, you know, I thought that I had an understanding, I knew that I had, kind of like, the sympathy and empathy. But, you know, at the time, yeah, I was kind of working a four day workweek and by the time Thursday came around, I could not go back to the neighborhood for days, like the effect that it has. But the more support that we get and the more that I get to understand it, yeah, but that—that's yeah, that can't be done, yeah, kind of like divorced from, divorced from that reality.
Julia Aoki 34:51
So, you've both spoken a little bit about how your work elsewhere impact your work within the gallery, or that these aren't necessarily entirely separate things, right, that you are continuing being inside and outside of the institutional practice. So, I thought maybe I'd start with you, Demi, you have your own artistic practice, and you've also taught visual and media arts. I was wondering if you could talk a little bit about that and the continuities between your creative, pedagogical practices and your role at Gachet?
Demi London 35:20
Yeah, I think, I think Moroti and I are alike, in one way is that yeah, we—it's difficult to separate our personal and professional ways of being. Yeah, and with the experience that I've had working in artist-run centres or within educational settings, I guess I would have to say, I like my art spaces that defy what an art space is supposed to be and I like my educational settings to defy what an educational setting is supposed to be. And the work that I've done in both of those areas are always trying to kind of like, just like clear, clear away all of the expectations and the structures and frameworks that we kind of like feel that we need to move through because that's how we learned it our, you know, ours ourselves.
I think a really formative experience for me was when I was a teenager, I went to a really special school called Beal in London, Ontario, and I had 12 full-time art teachers, all the art teachers were all practicing artists. It was part of our job as students to go to their weird art shows and, like, steal sips of wine and like, like, hoard, yeah, stinky cheese in our pockets and stuff. So, that was kind of like part of it. And it was like we had our own separate building for the last two years of high school. I didn't set foot in the regular, the regular school, it felt like its own beautiful universe. And oftentimes, when people would graduate from Beal, they would actually stick around because the facilities were better than what we had in the universities and, and also the, the teaching as well. And the deal was, if you graduated, you could stick around so long as you helped the junior art students with their work. So, it was all—that mentorship was baked in there, like, and when I left, when I, yeah, when I, when I finished, I did not feel a need to ever sit back in a school setting like it just didn't make sense to.
I moved to Lekwungen territory in so-called Victoria, and, yeah, I was really lucky to kind of jump into an artist-run centre, Open Space, there as a young adult. I think of my arts career in Victoria as, like, starting with the most established and well funded art centre. And then I moved to Antimatter and Rogue Art, kind of a film festival and smaller space. And then I ended my art career in Victoria at the Ministry of Casual Living, which received no funding, but, but the, the trajectory for me even though it is like the opposite of what people think of success, starting at the top and sliding down to the bottom, I view it as the complete opposite. When I got down to the bottom, there was no expectations, there was no one to report to, it was absolute curatorial experimental heaven. And the deal was as, as “minister,” if you could pay the rent for a year, you got to curate for a year and the, the curation there was wild. And it got to the point where we decided we would do an exhibition every week. So, at the end of that year, it was, like, about 50 exhibitions.
And it was—you’re living in the art space. And so every Friday night, I'd flip my mattress back up into the back of the false wall, make sure all my clothes and like—there was no kitchen, I cooked on a barbecue in the backyard where we also had live music, did my dishes in the bathroom sink, went down the road to a friend's house whenever I needed a bath. It was like art camping. But it was, like, the conflation of art and life was just like, I loved it.
And, yeah, and then during my, during my tenure at the Ministry of Casual Living, I ended up getting accidentally pregnant, and then decided that, well, this could be a creative act as well, like, I'll see where this goes. And as I was leaving the Ministry—I was also a practicing musician at the time, I thought well, I went on tour when I was eight months pregnant, came back to Victoria, didn't have an apartment, found a place and then I had my first child. And quickly after that, I had two other kids. I was really young, I had three kids under the age of five at the same time. I was primarily parenting—kind of on my own, for the most part. And then it was a matter of trying to figure out how to still be an artist.
And yeah, after kind of like, yeah, it was difficult to even get to art openings, like I didn't know how to do it. And then I kind of came to the decision that I needed to, like, grow up and get a job in order to support all these like funny people I was surrounded with. And so that's when I was like, well, I guess I'll jump back into school. Like, I didn't know what else to do because I didn't have any formal training. I just had this weird kind of like bric-a-brac, like, arts kind of, yeah, like—air quotes—”career.” And, I didn't want to go back into school. Like it was weird for me. All of my professors were peers that I had been making and exhibiting work with for years. And they were like, "What are you doing here?" And I was like—and, but it did function in a way for me and that it gave me the time and space to still cultivate being myself, like being a mother is all absorbing. It's the weirdest thing ever that you, like—and if I didn't have that kind of appointment to go to school, I don't know who I would be now.
Yeah, I didn't really like the education that I was getting there, but I liked having the time to experiment. And I was able to manipulate it in order to, kind of, yeah, make things that I'm, like, pretty, yeah, happy with. But in that, in that I was raising three kids and a full time student, I came to the realization, if I couldn't make work in my sleep, I didn't know how I was going to accomplish it. And so then that's when I started making—I started making drawing machines, I set up systems that would make automatic drawings so that I could draw in my sleep so that I could draw with, when I was eating and cooking dinner with my kids, when we go out for walks. Everyone kind of strapped on this thing on their back and it just made drawings on the way and then that was what I was just kind of like submitting at school. But I couldn't do it other—otherwise. I really had to, again that conflation of art and life like it just had to be the same process. If not, neither would—could be its own thing, somehow. And, yeah, from there, I was, like—I mean, after you kind of get that slip out of working in the art world, it's really hard to get back in, like—and so that's when I was like, well, I guess I'll start teaching. And at that time, my kids were starting to go to school themselves. So, we all, kind of like—we'd go to school, I would teach art, they would learn questionable things in their, in their schools. And then we would all come home. But finding experimental spaces in secondary schools is really hard. I was really lucky to, kind of like, eke out a couple of safe spaces and run a couple of cool art rooms. But I always tried to run my art rooms like an artist-run centre, it was like, "Alright, you guys, what do we want to do?" It wasn't like, "This is the knowledge that I have to impart to you. These are the important things to know about art." It was like, “Okay, as individuals, mashed together in this strange arrangement for like, you know, X amount of hours, what are—how are we going to spend this time?” And, yeah, in my last year of teaching, I was so frustrated with the school that I was in, it was so difficult to be myself there, and to, kind of like, encourage other people to be themselves.
And so I was like, “Let's just start an arts collective, guys, let's kind of like spin this out.” And that was when I kind of founded a—it's called the Space Blanket Society. And it's, yeah, it's still going today, four years in, and it's a youth-led arts collective in Victoria. And it operates within a school, but it has—the whole thing with it was like bring in your community, bring in your friends. And then, yeah—and they have exhibitions, kind of, yeah, regularly. And, and then from there, I—my kids were all teenagers at that point, and I was like, I am so done with school. And that's when I jumped into Gachet, which is another, yeah, totally experimental arena. Yeah, yeah. But that's how, yeah, my pedagogy and practice tries to not be that.
Julia Aoki 43:22
Moroti, so you've curated exhibitions at Gachet that have spanned disciplines and have ranged in topics that evoke material inequity, social exclusions, dislocations, as well as cultural resilience, emergent cultural practices, and imagined futures. I was wondering if you could speak to some of your recent curatorial work and how you approach your work in a way that is consistent with the wider values of Gachet.
Moroti George 43:45
Um, yeah, I think, oh, wow. Okay.
Demi London 43:48
I'm excited to hear the answer.
Moroti George 43:51
I think that's a very good question. I think that contrary to popular belief, I actually spend a lot of time researching. I think that my friends and, like, my—in grad school, some of my professors used to be like, "You are being academically voyeuristic. You need to spend time on one topic," and I'm like, "Actually, I am. You are just not focusing." So, I would say that, like, this year at Gachet, a lot of our exhibitions have been grounded on, on the topic of land. And from, like, the first show we had this year, Saltwater Cures All to Honour Their Names and Dialectics and Sandbox and the Act of Remembrance.
And, yeah, we have been looking at a lot of land. And for me, I am a settler here, as a black Nigerian person here, I never really gave too much thought to the idea of, like, land use and dispossession. Because my land was my land. I knew that Nigeria was colonized, but for some reason, thank God actually, we were never like, we never got like settlers. So, I was one of those people. I know that a lot of immigrants came to Nigeria—to Canada, and were unaware of the violent history of colonization. But I read about that stuff when I was younger. And I was like, actually, this place is super fucked. Am I allowed to swear? This place is super fucked up. And I have been for this, like, our curatorial year, this year, I've been thinking a lot about like embodied responses to the land and how, like, I think, last year, I was having a talk with one of my ex-professors. And she gave me this Rumi quote about how they're like 1,000 ways to, like, kiss the earth. And I would say that like that has kind of been embodied, embodied in our shows this year, with Racquel talking about, it's not actually about land, it's about like the water and the ocean, but like its connection to land and the relationships between black bodies and bodies of water.
And with Simone Chnarakis and Long Xi and Abdulwasiu Salimat talking about like the archive and, like, bodies being photographed on land, to Juli (Majer), who is creating this—I hate to use the word liminal space, but like this liminal space, and like this structure, where like she is exploring her relationship with her father and his death. And then more than talking about, like, abstracting the lands and different ways of remembering land. So, I would say that, like, my curatorial practice, is very much grounded in—I want to say the things I am interested in, and like I—some people don't know this, but I actually watch the news every day. I actually for my birthday, October 22, I would like, I would like a subscription to The New York Times.
But, I look at the news and I look at—I think that, like, one thing that I have been blessed with at Gachet, literally, the beginning of my tenure, I think, I think it's so poetic. But the first show we had was Honour Their Names, and it was literally about indigeneity and, like, commemoration and loss. And I think that having that show as my first show, I have, first of all, gotten this amazing and beautiful community of people: Defund 604, Pivot, Laura Holland and Laura Linklater. Like, Indigenous matriarchs and, like, people doing very important organizing work, who, I genuinely feel, have contributed to my practice in ways that I cannot even begin to explain to them. And I think that, like, with a show like that, it's, it's going to be starting off my tenure, even though it was not a super rigorous show, but extremely important. I think that I have a responsibility there. I need to be aware.
Laura Holland was Wet’suwet’en and like Campbell River, thinking about the various Indigenous land defenders and everything that they have gone through to protect their home and to, like, protect themselves against violent and ongoing dispossession. I think that this is, I don't want to say I am contributing to the dialogue in any way, but I think I’m—it's very important to me that people understand that land is contentious and, like, these topics are so nuanced, we have such different relationships to things that we see and walk on every day. But like there are perspectives that are actually harmful and causing harm to others and there are people who are literally being harmed by this. So, I would say that, that's kind of where I think that, like, there has been a continuum in our shows and it's funny seeing the people that notice and the people who don't notice, because the last person who came for Morgan's show was like, "You had like two sandboxes here." And I was like, "Yeah," and then they're like, "Why is there soil on the ground?" I'm like, "Hm, I wonder why." And then he was like, "Oh, I see something happening." And I was like, "Yay."
But I think that it's, it's like—I'm—we're working, like, submissions and, like, curatorial. So, it's kind of interesting, seeing too, where, like, the submissions we are receiving, like, seeing the topics. I think that, like, it's a privilege for me to put—and I, I wish other galleries would open their, their spaces up to submissions. But that's a different issue for another day. It's interesting to seeing what artists are thinking about and, like, kind of very validating to know that, like, oh, this artist is kind of working in line with another artist that I want to bring in. And it's good to see when people are thinking about the same things that you are thinking about. It's kind of like having this cohort of ideas and like people behind you, supporting you, and you also being behind people, supporting their ideas.
So, yeah, I think that's the best way to put it. I really like to be informed. I think I really have a responsibility to the people who I first let into the gallery. I think I have a responsibility to the Downtown Eastside with our programming. The artists that we are showing next, Dion Smith-Dokkie. Their exhibition is called, This Will Be the First of a Thousand Worlds We Give Life To, and it's about cartography and map making and Indigenous storytelling as it relates to land. And I worry that, like, some people would think it's too similar to Morgan's show, but there is a strong aesthetic and, like, conceptual difference. And when I was talking to Morgan about the show, they were like, "Oh, I don't know how I feel about bringing this super futuristic looking art show to the Downtown Eastside." And I was like, I was like, the people—every time we have an immersive install, the people who receive it the most, are—the best—are people who just walked into the gallery and wants like a snack or something like that. People who live in the Downtown Eastside. It's kind of, I don't want to say it's a portal, but like, it's kind of like a different environment. And I was like, this is a good thing. It's good to think about ethics and like the limits of what a gallery can do. But like, once again, you cannot assume what's best for people. I don't think people in the Downtown Eastside want to see violence, like there's a difference between advocacy and an art show. And the gallery does advocacy already. So, it's kind of important to have these two balances.
So, I would say, like, part of my curatorial practice at Gachet is very much thinking about what I can offer, and what the gallery can offer the residents of the Downtown Eastside. And, I will say, like, another thing that I'm hoping to take into our next programming gear, kind of in-line with the work I'm doing with—I'm doing so much stuff with Blackness in Vancouver and it's, it's a lot, but, like, it makes me very happy. But I have been thinking a lot about, like, the efforts, the effort it takes to document presence. And I think we're kind of getting a head start on it with like the Oppenheimer Park publication, where we're inviting several, we're showcasing the works of the artists in the show, but we're inviting several guest writers and organizers to write about working and advocating and, like, being in the Downtown Eastside right now.
So, I'm thinking about the efforts to preserve and, like, to document one's presence. And I'm hoping to continue that all the way to—in January, we have the kind of show which is about that, kind of. It is very much about that. But then one thing I'm very excited for is the VANDU archive show and that we're doing, because VANDU is very important to the Downtown Eastside landscape. And I think that there is—I would say that, like, as someone who does engage with archives a lot, I am determined to work with VANDU on, like, not presenting, like, a biased version of their archive, presenting the good and the bad, if the bad exists. It's very important to not pose anyone in the Downtown Eastside as saints, because that is a type of—it's condescending too, they don't need to be amazing people to get support from community. So, I'm thinking about how I want to engage with that archive and, like, multiple ways to engage with our archives. I think I may bring someone else in to support with that—a community member.
But more than that, I am very much thinking about the fact that people documented the work that they were doing, documented the community that they were building, and I know that I am going to work with the VANDU team to, like, frame that archive, rooted in some concept, and blah, blah, blah. But I'm also kind of flirting with the idea of just presenting the archive and being, like, look at the history, and that is grounded in this place. And like the efforts that people made to make sure that people are aware of this history, the efforts that's been made to even, like, curate the show that presents this history. All of these are important.
So, yeah, that's kind of, yeah, that's where my curatorial practice is and I hope that answers your question. And like more than anything else, I feel like I should have started with this, I am very much grounded in like the pathway to the decolonial and, like, the pathway to the otherwise. And I think that for so long, the curatorial has been posed as a power, which it is and I don't think that like I should deny that, but I think that like working Gachet and working with Demi and working with V and Sol, I would say they are as much curators as I am. I would say that like they actually interface with curation more than I interface with any of their jobs which, so—
Demi London 55:58
I could use some help with some grants.
Moroti George 56:04
That's no—never happening. I'm bad at grant writing, but it's it's I've learned that, like, part of these pathways to, like, the decolonial is being very open to collaboration and, like, actually welcoming it and understanding that, like, it takes a village. Like, it's not one person, there is no-one sole genius behind anything. I think that, like, we need to get rid of that as a, as a thought process in society because it's very much rooted in, like, colonial, the one person sublime, blah, blah, blah, rubbish. But I think that, like, parts of these pathways to the decolonial is, like, collaboration, like, accountability to community, which would come out of collaboration and like presenting a different way of seeing.
Julia Aoki 56:55
Yeah, maybe any other final thoughts?
Moroti George 56:57
Stop by Gachet. We have a, we have good plans. Also, we're probably getting renovated. Definitely? Probably? So yeah.
Demi London 57:09
By choice.
Moroti George 57:10
By choice.
Demi London 57:11
Yeah.
Moroti George 57:12
By choice to make everyone happier. It's truly—it's, it's very—I don't want to say it's noble of us. But like, it's important that we're getting renovated. So, we're getting renovated next year. And we're going to have, hopefully, a cooling system. So, people in the Downtown Eastside can come in during, as the summers get hotter. It's very important to and I think that's part of, like, how we're trying to be accountable, accountable to our community. And like, yeah, it's a project, definitely. But it's, like, important for the long run. It's, like, an important investment to the Downtown Eastside as opposed to Gachet alone.
Demi London 57:54
My only last—I'm just so grateful to work with you. I love, I love hearing you expand on these things. I know we have these quick conversations all the time, but it's, yeah, yeah. Thanks for the opportunity to, yeah.
Julia Aoki 58:06
Well, thank you so much for being here. And thank you for all of your work and, and holding this space in community.
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Julia Aoki 58:06
Below the Radar is a knowledge democracy podcast created by SFU’s Vancity Office of Community Engagement. Thanks for listening to our episode with Demi London and Moroti George. Head to the show notes to learn more about Gallery Gachet and their current exhibition of Dion Smith-Dokkie’s This Will Be The First Of A Thousand Worlds We Give Life To, which will be on view in the gallery until January 20, 2024.
Tune in next week for another episode of our See How We Run! Mini-series. Don’t forget to subscribe to our show on your podcast listening app of choice, and we’ll catch you next time on Below the Radar.
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