Alice Wheeler on Seattle, the wild west, the physical space of a woman, and Feminism.

I [yes, finally] listened to Jen Graves’ podcast of her interview with Alice Wheeler. Wow. The interview is more of a monologue, but it’s one that is wholly worthwhile. She said so many things that no one else seems to be saying; yet lots of people must be thinking about them, right?

I hadn’t realized that I have this idea of what the [contemporary] [female] [American] artist is supposed to be like. I hadn’t ever articulated it or heard it articulated before; at least not in this way. There’s this female artist template, and I’ve been sharing studio space with her all along. Negotiating.

There are conversations about feminism and what it means to be a female artist, but they are usually among feminists, and they are few and far between. If they make it into a larger arena, they seem to be bullied back into specificity so quickly that no response is required from the greater community.

Apparently I’m chickenshit because I can’t find the words to elaborate on my own experience as a female artist, nor bring myself to provide examples for any of the points I’m making. Sometimes it feels dangerous enough just writing this blog. Sometimes I’m struck with the thought that writing a blog about the art scene I’m participating in isn’t really what I’m “supposed” to be doing. I’m fairly certain it would have been safer to be quiet. Ah well, it’s too late for that.

A Cooper Moment

The best thing about this past First Thursday was a conversation I had in a parking lot afterwards. I live at Cooper Artist Housing, in the old renovated Cooper School in West Seattle.

Getting out of my car that evening, I got to chatting with Alice Wheeler, my downstairs neighbor. We talked for a while next to the patch of dirt where her dog pees and where my dog refuses to pee.  We usually talk about our dogs; why haven’t we talked about art? We each supposed that for the past two years, Life has been happening to each of us rather tumultuously. Alice has lived in Seattle for twenty years, and has stored endless bits of information about the art scene here.  We talked about our different backgrounds: She considers herself a self-taught artist, whereas I feel like grad school made me the artist I am. She said that much of the success she’s had in Seattle is due to her active participation in the community, meeting people and being a familiar face.  We talked about the importance of artsits getting to know each other and helping each other make connections.  I get to feeling sort of isolated as an artist sometimes, so this reminder of the necessity of community was encouraging. Maybe this career path won’t be as socially disfunctional as I was beginning to fear.