Director’s Letter

Like so many people, I have succumbed to a state of existence that feels unsustainable.

Between navigating bureaucracy, facing the chaotic and heart wrenching events of the world, and attempting to pay bills and move out of survival mode, the treadmill of life leaves me no time to actually exercise or read a book or take a vacation. My brain may be particularly wired to catastrophize, but I find this state of exhaustion to be more and more common amongst the people I interact with daily. I rely on small moments of joy to keep from imploding: sunshine breaking through the gray bubble of Pittsburgh, my toddler discovering that ice cream comes in multiple flavors, the two minutes of a hilarious TV I see before promptly falling asleep.

I’ve consumed countless podcasts and articles that emphasize how important it is to build self-care, find joy, and relieve stress. While I tend to fail at consistently exercising or meditating, I do manage to find space for play and joy in art—both in the art I look at and that I bring to life.

One of the first Carnegie Internationals I remember attending included the artist Ernesto Neto. He had a huge installation made of sheer, white nylon that you could step into to move around hanging shapes and peek through holes. It was a rare moment for people of all ages to physically step into another world, particularly inside a traditional museum space. I spent years seeking out and trying to make art like this—physically interactive, playful, fantastical.

I eventually moved beyond physical structures to instead build social structures. For years, I operated an ongoing dinner and lecture series called SIX x ATE, where the audience was invited to hear five-minute talks from artists and eat food from a local chef, all centered around a theme. A key to the series’ success was that there was no Q&A; most of the evening was spent socializing, eating, and playing around in a new location, which rotated every time.

I’ve tried to build this sense of play into all of our projects. Art can be political, it can be beautiful, it can be overwhelming. But I truly love when art can allow me to stop and have a laugh, to break out of my routine, to imagine what is possible.

We try to bring this sense of play to our clients when working on a project as well. We recently finished up with Deanna Mance, who created a large splatter-painted mural at a multi-family residential site. While we could play with color palette and composition, Deanna took it to a new level of playfulness when she placed her paint into water guns. A timelapse video documented her process, which was not only fun to watch as a performance but carries on in the liveliness of the work.

We wanted this issue of The Journal to explore the elements of playfulness and campiness in art. We’ve gathered up our usual suspects to play with this idea (pun intended) and invited a few new ones as well. We’ve even created a special tool for you to use to evaluate and examine the art you encounter in your daily life. At the dentist? Sitting in a coffee shop? Waiting at the DMV? Bring this along and take note of what you see. Perhaps we can collectively discover more moments of joy, or identify the places where we hope to find it.

Thanks,

Casey Droege