Art Nights

 

Two nights a week (and whenever else she says so) my life belongs to Anne Pearce. 

Anne is the main art teacher at Rockhurst, and a woman I owe HUGE thanks to for making my art history minor possible.  As I mentioned in my previous post (http://allisonbody.blogspot.com/2013/01/polka-dots-and-my-career-so-as-it-turns.html), I am doing an art internship/independent study this semester that will count as the final hours of upper level credit for the art history minor I have been putting together for the past few years (Rockhurst does not at this moment offer an art history minor).  My semester with Anne will consist of me curating a “virtual show,” the Rockhurst Festival of Student Achievement, and a show of Rockhurst students’ art downtown.

I don’t know anything about curating, and Anne is teaching me how to curate much like my dad taught me how to swim: by throwing me off the diving board.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays I attend Anne’s independent study night class, which consists of a handful of actual student artists and me.  Since a major part of my job will involve picking students’ art for these shows, Anne briefly introduced me to the class, then gave me the warm and gentle directive “Go talk to them.” 

Maybe I am easily intimidated, but being told to go around the room and talk to some of the most artistic people at Rockhurst about I-don’t-know-what while they are intensely working is not something I do on an average day, in particular because I would not think that most artists at work would want to be interrupted by some curator wannabe toting around her laptop and trying not to ask stupid questions. 

But I should have known better, because that was probably the most interesting class period I’ve ever experienced.  Just like I would love to talk about any writing projects I am working on, these students were more than happy to talk to me about their art, giving me more than just the basic information and telling me about their motivations and inspirations. 

Their art was all over the board: one girl was very good at drawing individual hairs on animals so she was doing a series of cat drawings; one guy was painting cliffs in Ireland and he and I had a lively conversation about how much we loved the place; another girl was thinking about being a biological illustrator and doing a flip book of anatomical drawings of birds.  I think my favorite of the night was a guy who animatedly told me about his plan to make a connection between the Chinese signs of the Zodiac and embarrassing human behavior—I was hooked and can’t wait to see the result. 

I like seeing people in their element and watching them light up about something that means a lot to them.  I think I’m going to enjoy this curating thing…

 

 

My friend Matt is not an art student either, but so desperately wanted to hang around all the cool people in the room that he offered to be a model.  Be careful what you wish for...

Polka Dots and My Career

So as it turns out, there are two kinds of job searches: the kind where you get to wear polka dots and the kind where you don’t.  This semester, I am attempting both.

The non-polka dot job search began with an interview on my first day back in Kansas City with a publishing company.  I learned about this company through the Rockhurst English department and career services, and decided to pursue an editing internship with them.  I sent them my resume, and they asked me to come in for an interview…which meant digging up interview-worthy clothes. 

Now, maybe I’ve been living in quirky English major world for a little too long, but I had no idea there were so many rules regarding interview attire—I get that it should all be appropriate and fit well, but no patterns?  No bright colors?  NO RED?  This initiated a St. Louis-wide search for appropriately grey/tan/black clothing.  The winning combination of the colors and my chipper attitude probably made people think I was shopping for a funeral. 

But the interview date came and I showed up in my grey dress and black tights…only to be told they were not really looking for interns because their fall ones decided to stay on for the spring semester (despite this setback, I still think studying abroad last semester was worth it!).  Oh the trials and tribulations of the internship hunt.

My polka dot job search is going a little….more interesting.  I am doing a curatorial internship/independent study with the head of the art department, Anne Pearce, which will involve curating three shows this semester: a “virtual show” in which I select any space and works from any artist and discuss how I would hypothetically put the show together; the art portion of the Student Achievement Festival at the end of the year; and a show of Rockhurst Students’ work at a gallery downtown in the Crossroads Art District (a new undertaking this year).  I am going to be really busy with all of this, but it is also very exciting to be doing something so hands on. 

A big part of this internship is also networking with curators and artists in Kansas City, which is why last Friday I found myself talking to a curator at a gallery opening who insisted that I MUST go to the back of the gallery and watch the live feed of cats playing in a cat-palace before I left (Do I love contemporary art?  Yes.  Will I ever really understand it?  I’m not holding out hope.).  Turns out that when you are networking in the art world, things like red lipstick and the pairing of flannel plaid and sequins are encouraged.  I think my polka dots would be welcome at those kinds of functions.

But regardless of whether or not I am allowed to indulge in my particular fashion tastes, this semester is about garnering all of the experience I can before my launch into the real world in May.  The publishing thing was a dead end, but I have an unconventional art internship, a solid selection of both dull and patterned clothes, and as of this afternoon a brand new career services account.  Look out job world, here I come…

 

 

Sam and I gong for artsy black instead of funereal/interview black for a night of hobnobbing in the art world.

 

I'm sorry, I couldn't resist sneaking a picture of the cat-palace.