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Tag: Curatorial Practice

Blog 6 – Ethics & Inclusion | Whose Voices Count?

W4 (Curatorial Ethics), W9 (Methods), W10 (Publics)

I started with a question:
Whose voices do we trust enough to let them shape the exhibition?


Consent, Not Contribution

In participatory curation, asking for input isn’t enough. We need to ask: how is that input used, attributed, stored, reshaped?

Visitors to Fluid Curating can share interpretations through the Woolclap platform, leave voice notes at the sound wall, or write directly onto the co-authored curatorial wall. But before any of these are made public—whether projected, printed, or posted—I offer clear options for anonymity, attribution, and withdrawal.
No voice enters the archive without its owner’s choice.

This principle draws on Gevers’ idea of “curating as context” (2013), where creating interpretive space includes creating consent space. It’s not about gathering stories for effect—it’s about constructing frameworks where stories can live with dignity and on their own terms.


Inclusion Isn’t Atmosphere—It’s Infrastructure

Too often, exhibitions proclaim inclusivity as a tone.
I wanted mine to reflect it in the structure.

Following the lessons of Fletcher and Pierce’s Paraeducation Department (2010), I’ve looked at Fluid Curating as a platform where knowledge doesn’t flow in one direction. Working with students in TESOL, Inclusive Design, and Art Education, we’ve translated key exhibition content into multiple languages, created tactile signage, and provided verbal cue cards for blind or low-vision participants.

We also installed “quiet time”—pathways with minimal audio and movement, to allow neurodivergent visitors more time and space. Participation isn’t timed by the exhibition’s speed; it unfolds at the visitor’s own rhythm. As DisplayCult (2016) argue, affective experience is a form of labour. So this exhibition makes space for rest, silence, and slower modes of meaning-making.

Home [www.victoriesnautism.com]

( Example of multilingual verbal cue cards)


Publics Are Not Pre-Defined

Simon Sheikh (2010) reminds us that exhibitions don’t merely reflect publics—they produce them. This idea reframed how I saw my responsibility.

Rather than trying to imagine one singular “ideal audience,” I thought about what it means to hold space for unplanned publics: the passerby, the hesitant, the first-timer, the child, the migrant visitor.

Each contribution is a potential act of authorship—not simply commentary. And that shifts the ethics. If we honour those inputs, we also honour the role of the curator as listener, not just organiser. That’s why I built Woolclap around anonymous entries and multilingual response portals. These aren’t decoration. They are architecture.


Why This Matters

Martinon (2013) describes the role of curators as those who refuse to totalise meaning. That’s the ethics I’m drawn to—not just inclusion as presence, but inclusion as epistemic permission.

So in Fluid Curating, every ethical decision—whether it’s signage design or story ownership—emerges from one belief:
No voice should have to ask for permission to be part of the conversation.

Citations

  • Beech, Dave. 2010. “Weberian Lessons: Art, Pedagogy and Managerialism.” In Curating and the Educational Turn, edited by Paul O’Neill and Mick Wilson, 47–60. London: Open Editions / Amsterdam: De Appel.

  • DisplayCult (Jim Drobnick and Jennifer Fisher). 2016. “Curating the City: Collectioneering and the Affects of Display.” In The Artist as Curator, edited by Celina Jeffery, 151–68. Bristol: Intellect.

  • Fletcher, Annie, and Sarah Pierce. 2010. “Introduction to The Paraeducation Department.” In Curating and the Educational Turn, edited by Paul O’Neill and Mick Wilson, 198–99. London: Open Editions / Amsterdam: De Appel.

  • Gevers, Ine. 2013. “Curating: The Art of Creating Contexts.” In The Curatorial: A Philosophy of Curating, edited by Jean-Paul Martinon, 217–26. London: Bloomsbury Academic.

  • Jeffery, Celina. 2016. “Introduction: The Artist as Curator.” In The Artist as Curator, edited by Celina Jeffery, 1–20. Bristol: Intellect.

  • Martinon, Jean-Paul. 2013. “Becoming-Curator.” In The Curatorial: A Philosophy of Curating, edited by Jean-Paul Martinon, 69–81. London: Bloomsbury Academic.

  • O’Neill, Paul, and Mick Wilson, eds. 2015. Curating and the Educational Turn. London: Black Dog Publishing.

  • Sheikh, Simon. 2010. “Letter to Jane (Investigation of a Function).” In Curating and the Educational Turn, edited by Paul O’Neill and Mick Wilson, 70–71. London: Open Editions / Amsterdam: De Appel.

Blog 1 – Project Title & Narrative|From Authority to Co-Creation: Why I Curate “Fluidly”

Curatorial Narrative: From Top-down Authority to Distributed Dialogue

When I first imagined Fluid Curating, I wasn’t interested in simply organizing an exhibition. I wanted to challenge something deeper: the invisible lines of power that often define who gets to choose, explain, and validate meaning in art. Traditional curating—though rich in historical methods—often centers on a single authoritative voice. What if we reimagine this voice as a chorus? What if meaning could emerge from conversation rather than instruction?

My project stems from this desire to shift away from the curator as sovereign. I was inspired by early discussions in Week 1 and Week 2 around institutions, platforms, and authorship, and began asking: who really holds curatorial power, and who gets to speak? These reflections led me to decentralisation, not as a purely technical gesture, but as a curatorial attitude—one that opens space, redistributes authorship, and invites collective meaning-making.

This shift isn’t just conceptual. It has emotional and ethical stakes. My vision for Fluid Curating is built around co-creation: an ecosystem where artists, audiences, and curators share responsibility for shaping not only the content of the exhibition, but its rhythm, its routes, and its interpretation.


Curatorial Questions Driving the Exhibition

  • Can meaning be co-authored rather than delivered?
  • What happens when audiences don’t just observe, but write, vote, and narrate?
  • If we design for decentralisation, does power truly move—or just appear to?

These questions echo many discussed in our course, especially those explored during Week 4 (Curatorial Ethics), Week 9 (Publishing as Curating), and Week 10 (Publics and Participation). They continue to guide my decisions—from spatial design to media choice, from participation structure to the ethics of attribution.


What Fluid Curating Means in Practice

Fluid Curating is not only a name, but a structure—one that puts decentralisation into curatorial action. It proposes an exhibition framework that cannot be completed without the audience. It is not “for” them, but “with” them.

The space is designed as a rhizomatic grid rather than a linear pathway, enabling visitors to navigate freely, remap meaning, and even rename spaces using coloured tape trails. The artworks—primarily participatory installations by CAP artists and invited collaborators—remain open-ended until activated by audience interaction. Visitors become necessary co-authors in bringing the work to life.

Interpretation is equally decentralised. Audiences can scan a QR code to access a shared platform (via Woolclap) where they co-write curatorial texts, share voice notes, and reflect in real time. These contributions are updated and projected daily, forming a “living wall of meaning” that evolves with each visitor’s presence.

Display arrangements are not fixed. Every three days, works are reconfigured based on audience feedback, voting, and engagement metrics. Exhibition design becomes fluid—data-driven but people-responsive.

After the show, audience-created content will be compiled into a collectively-authored Zine, capturing curatorial texts, sound fragments, and reflections. A summary market report will also be generated to visualize interaction heatmaps, keyword clusters, and value perception trends—offering emerging artists and institutions new insights into participatory demand.

This is not a spectacle of participation—it is an invitation to redefine curating itself.


Case Studies: Inspirations That Changed My Curatorial Lens

Several exhibitions and curatorial models became reference points:

  • Documenta 11’s “Platforms” (2002) replaced one curatorial voice with many.

  • Gwangju Biennale’s “Roundtable Curating” model reimagined curation as circular and collective.

  • Manifesta 6 and its offshoots like Night School transformed exhibition into experimental schools.

  • Copenhagen Free University and Tania Bruguera’s Arte de Conducta redefined artists as curators of knowledge and experience.

Together, these cases helped me see how fluid, participatory, and educational models decentralise curatorial control and share authorship with artists and publics.


Soft Reflection: From Concept to Commitment

Rather than offering a separate reflection section, I believe my project’s material and structural changes speak for themselves. Through studio visits with CAP artists, peer review exchanges, and in-class provocations, I came to see co-creation not as a supplement to curating, but as its generative core.

The move away from speculative technologies (NFTs, blockchain, AI) toward something more grounded—student-led, low-cost, audience-responsive—wasn’t a compromise. It was a choice. A choice to center experience over infrastructure, participation over programming.

As Rancière reminds us in The Emancipated Spectator, the act of seeing is never passive—it is interpretative, active, and political. Fluid Curating doesn’t just accept this—it designs for it.


Citations

  • Jeffery, Celina. The Artist as Curator. Bristol: Intellect, 2016.

  • Macdonald, Sarah. Exhibition Experiments. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007.

  • Martinon, Jean-Paul. The Curatorial: A Philosophy of Curating. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2013.

  • O’Neill, Paul, and Mick Wilson. Curating and the Educational Turn. London: Open Editions, 2010.

  • Smith, Terry. Thinking Contemporary Curating. New York: Independent Curators International (ICI), 2012.

W10 Reflective Blog: Rethinking “Fluid Curating” – From Conceptual Ambition to Grounded Possibility

Reflective Blog: Rethinking “Fluid Curating” – From Conceptual Ambition to Grounded Possibility

1. Initial Vision: A Decentralized, Tech-Driven Exhibition

When I first began shaping the idea for Fluid Curating, my ambition was to create a dynamic, audience-led exhibition model that fully embraced decentralization—where curatorial authority would no longer rest solely with the curator but be shared with artists, audiences, and market forces.
I was drawn to terms like “NFT,” “blockchain,” and “Web3,” which seemed to promise transparency, open participation, and algorithmic co-curation.
Inspired by digital culture and new media trends, I envisioned a hybrid exhibition across a physical site and online platform, with real-time artwork reconfiguration based on audience voting and NFT market trends.

2. Critical Feedback and Conceptual Challenges

However, during peer review and my tutorial feedback, I was faced with key challenges that pushed me to rethink this plan.

One major issue was the conceptual clarity of some core elements. My peer reviewer, Yuhang Yang, questioned how terms like NFT and blockchain—actually supported the idea of a “fluid” or time-sensitive curatorial logic. As I reflected on this, I began to see the contradiction: while my project sought to highlight ephemerality, transformation, and flux, NFTs, by their very nature, are mechanisms for permanence, ownership, and archival preservation. Their association with speculative market value also risked reducing curatorial decision-making to financial metrics, which ran counter to the community-led values I wanted to embrace.

Another question raised during feedback was: What tool or system could actually support this curatorial complexity in practice? I realized my original plan combined too many advanced technologies and open-ended processes without clearly demonstrating how they would function together. As a result, the exhibition risked becoming fragmented—more of a conceptual collage than a coherent experience.

Beyond conceptual concerns, there were also practical limitations. My initial choice of venue—FACT Liverpool—was exciting but ultimately unrealistic. The projected budget far exceeded the £2000 limit.
The technical demands, duration, and uncertainty of long-term online platform maintenance added more instability.

These challenges didn’t discourage me—instead, they became catalysts for productive rethinking.

3. Turning Point: Visiting Participatory Works by CAP Students

A defining moment in my curatorial journey came during a joint event between CAT (Contemporary Art Theory) and CAP (Contemporary Art Practice) students.

blog link:

https://blogs.ed.ac.uk/s2500923_curating-2024-2025sem2/2025/03/16/%f0%9f%8e%a1-w9-speed-curating-at-cat-x-cap-conversations-that-sparked-something-real/

This experience moved me deeply. I was struck by the raw potential of these young artists, their vulnerability, and their innovative use of participation. Many works relied on interaction—audiences speaking, touching, or altering the piece to complete it.

And suddenly, something clicked.

I had spent so much time trying to simulate “fluidity” through technology—imagining algorithmically shifting displays, blockchain-backed value systems, ever-changing screen layouts.


I thought decentralisation meant sophisticated mechanisms: rapid visual updates, complex voting platforms, market-responsive curation. But here, right in front of me, were works that already embodied decentralisation, through something more organic: Audience participation.

These artworks didn’t need flashy screens or AI sensors. What they needed was space—for the audience to step in, to shape meaning, to complete the work.

I realised that the artists and I had been walking parallel paths—both seeking to blur authorship, to soften control, to share decision-making. In that moment, I saw myself not as a controller of space, but as a facilitator of resonance. My curatorial voice didn’t have to dominate; it could listen, invite, and hold.

This was the real turning point. I let go of the need for tech-heavy infrastructure and embraced a more grounded, people-centered approach.

4. Rethinking Participation: From Tech to Human Presence

Around the same time, I was writing peer feedback for Xuchuyue’s curatorial project. She used opera not just as a theme, but as a structural framework—with rhythm, tension, and release shaping the audience’s emotional journey.

Her approach made me question my own assumptions. I had believed audience engagement needed to be mediated through technology. But her project reminded me: participation can begin with something far simpler. Inviting someone into another’s story, another’s voice, can be a powerful act of decentralization.

I began asking myself: Where does emotion happen in my exhibition? Have I left enough space for people to feel, not just interact?

What I’ve Learned

This journey has taught me that decentralization in curating isn’t just a structural or technological shift—it’s a relational practice. It means inviting people in, letting go of control, and designing with sensitivity to affect, ethics, and community.

Reading and responding to Xuchuyue’s work opened my eyes to emotional architecture. Visiting the CAP studios showed me the strength of collaboration over spectacle. And listening to feedback forced me to ask hard but important questions.

In the end, Fluid Curating is no longer a conceptual ambition suspended in technical abstraction. It is now a practice grounded in people, space, and story—one that breathes, listens, and changes with those who participate.

My Peer Review of Chuyue Xu

Peer Review: Chuyue Xu’s Curatorial Project “Female Narratives in Opera: History and Liberation”

Chuyue Xu’s blog :http://Chuyue Xu / Curating (2024-2025)[SEM2]

Opening – A Curatorial Conversation

Chuyue, reading through your blog from Week 1 to Week 8, I was drawn to the clarity and depth of your project.
You’ve taken opera—a grand, classical, and often difficult-to-access art form—and reimagined it as a lens through which to explore the awakening of female consciousness. This perspective is sharp, ambitious, and deeply personal.

What touched me most was watching your project develop from an experimental idea in Week 3 (“Can I integrate my music background into curating?”) into a multisensory, socially grounded narrative by Week 8. It reminded me of Bruce W. Ferguson’s words: “Exhibitions are narratives which use art objects as elements in institutionalized stories” (Ferguson 1996, 128). And your project, through its curatorial approach, is precisely challenging those institutional narratives that have long pushed women to the margins.

Because I truly appreciate your theme, I didn’t want to give you superficial feedback. I went to the course library and spent time reading materials on feminist representation, curatorial narrative, participation, and exhibition space—thinking about how your exhibition could build even further on the depth it already has.
I hope the following reflections and suggestions will be helpful to you.

Section Two: Strengths – Feminist Narratives and Critical Engagement

What I find most striking about your project is how you reframe the long-standing representations of women in opera into a feminist narrative of reclamation. By placing four operas—from Orfeo to Carmen—along a historical timeline, you reveal a trajectory in which female characters evolve from being rescued to becoming speakers of their own stories.

This dialogical curatorial structure echoes the kind of temporal and spatial interplay that Mieke Bal explores in her writing on visual narrative.

Equally powerful is how you incorporate critical interaction as part of a curatorial turn toward education. As Simon Sheikh notes, this shift is about fostering new forms of self-reflection and critique (O’Neill and Wilson 2010, 12).

Your costume try-on zone, combined with the opportunity for visitors to recite opera lines, allows people to not only experience history firsthand but perhaps even question gender itself: Can identity be performed?

Section Three: Deeper Suggestions — From Time to Space to Sound

1. A timeline is not just history—it’s emotional rhythm
Your idea of connecting feminist movements with the history of opera through a timeline is smart and effective. But what if the timeline functioned more like a theatrical structure?
Could the four operas be staged as four distinct “scenes,” each with its own lighting, color palette, or sound atmosphere to create an emotional arc?
This would immerse your audience in a shifting emotional landscape—not just inform them.

2. Add critical pauses into the audience experience
Your costume try-ons and voice acting zones are already excellent interactive features. Still, I suggest adding a moment of reflection afterward.
For example, a comment wall or a private “recording booth” could ask: “How did it feel to wear this costume?” or “Did voicing this line change how you see the character?”
This kind of pause transforms participation into internal insight.

3. Juxtapose non-Western female voices
To broaden the scope of your feminist framework, you might consider including a non-Western example.
Placing Mu Guiying from the Chinese opera “Mu Guiying Takes Command” alongside Susanna from The Marriage of Figaro could more sharply reveal how patriarchal suppression of female leadership cuts across cultures.
This would also respond to the Guerrilla Girls’ question: “Why are heroic women always in supporting roles?” (Ferguson 1996, 130).

4. Space as narrative: let Summerhall become part of the stage
Your choice of Summerhall is fitting—it’s historically layered and theatrically open. But what if the space itself became part of your storytelling?
Jean-Paul Martinon writes that curating is “a practice under the influence—even the oppression—of context” (Martinon 2013, 62).
Imagine entering through a dim “servant’s corridor” and exiting into a bright “main stage”—this spatial arc could mirror the struggle for gender and class mobility.

(Martinon, Jean-Paul. 2013. The Curatorial : A Philosophy of Curating . London : Bloomsbury. https://www.vlebooks.com/vleweb/Product/Index/319421?page=0.)

5. Counterpoint in sound: use hearing as a feminist weapon
In Week 8, you reflected on the power of light—what about sound?
Imagine overlapping male arias and female choruses in the same space: a sonic collision that metaphorically enacts gender tension.
This kind of soundscape would bring Judith Butler’s concept of gender performativity into a sensory form—not only seen, but heard.

You might also draw inspiration from real-world curatorial examples, such as “Opera: Passion, Power and Politics” at the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A, 2017). This exhibition explored the socio-political dimensions of opera across 400 years, using scenographic environments, archival materials, costumes, and music to immerse the viewer in each historical moment. Its room-by-room progression—structured around different operatic works and cities—could offer a valuable reference for how your own timeline might be staged not just historically, but atmospherically.

Two video documentations of the show give a vivid sense of this immersive design and curatorial logic:

     

You might find the use of archival sound, layered staging, and sensory contrasts particularly relevant as you continue to develop your exhibition’s spatial and sonic design.

Closing – What I Took Away

Reading your project didn’t just inspire me; it made me question what I thought I was doing. I’ve been developing this idea called “Fluid Curating,” where I try to move away from fixed narratives and instead create exhibitions that breathe, shift, and respond to the viewer. But the way you used opera—not just as a theme, but as a structural tool with rhythm, tension, and release—made me realize that emotional flow doesn’t happen by accident. It needs to be shaped with intention.

I used to think that “participation” in my exhibition had to rely on tech—screens, data, sensors. But the way you invite people to speak, to wear, to perform made me pause. Maybe participation starts with something much simpler: letting people step into someone else’s words, someone else’s story. That’s powerful. It made me go back to one section of my exhibition and ask myself: where does feeling actually happen? And am I leaving enough space for it?

You also pushed me to think more deeply about what feminist curating means. It’s not just about showing more women or talking about gender. It’s about designing experiences where power can be felt, questioned, and maybe even redistributed. That’s not easy—but it’s exactly the kind of challenge I want to take seriously in my own work.

Thank you very much!!

In addition, this book is very well written, and I also want to recommend it to you, hoping that it will be helpful to your curation

Thinking Contemporary Curating (Terry E. Smith) (Z-Library)

Bibliography 

Bruce W. Ferguson, Reesa Greenberg. 1996. “Exhibition Rhetorics: Material Speech and Utter Sense.” In Thinking About Exhibitions, edited by Reesa Greenberg, Bruce W. Ferguson, and Sandy Nairne, 175–190. London: Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203991534-15.

(Quote used on institutionalized stories and reference to Guerrilla Girls.)

Basu, Paul, ed. 2007. Exhibition Experiments / Edited by Sharon Macdonald and Paul Basu. Malden, MA : Blackwell Pub.
(Referenced for curatorial structuring of narrative and temporality. Term “cinematic curating” used conceptually.)

Butler, Judith. 1990. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York: Routledge.
(Referenced for the concept of gender performativity.)

Martinon, Jean-Paul. 2013. The Curatorial : A Philosophy of Curating . London : Bloomsbury. https://www.vlebooks.com/vleweb/Product/Index/319421?page=0.
(Quote on curating being shaped by context.)

O’Neill, Paul, and Mick Wilson, eds. 2010. Curating and the Educational Turn. London: Open Editions.
(Cited via Simon Sheikh for discussion of self-reflection and critique.)

Sheikh, Simon. 2010. “Objects of Study or Commodification of Knowledge?” In Curating and the Educational Turn, edited by Paul O’Neill and Mick Wilson, 28–39. London: Open Editions.
(Specific contribution cited in support of educational curating approach.)

Smith, Terry (Terry E.). 2012. Thinking Contemporary Curating. Second edition.. New York, NY: Independent Curators International.
(Cited for affective insight in exhibition-making and curatorial voice.)

Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A). 2017. Opera: Passion, Power and Politics. Exhibition. London: V&A Museum.
(Exhibition used as a real-world reference and case study.)

🎡 W9 (2) – Speed Curating at CAT × CAP: Conversations that Sparked Something Real

Hi everyone,


This week I participated in a special joint event between CAT (Contemporary Art Theory) and CAP (Contemporary Art Practice) students. We met not on Teams, but face-to-face in the West Court, and I have to say—it was more inspiring than I imagined.

The format was based on Speed Curating, a method adapted from the UK Arts Council. CAP students introduced their art practices in quick 2-minute bursts, while us CAT students shared five key curatorial interests. It was fast, a little chaotic, but filled with energy and curiosity.

🎨 Meeting Artists, Meeting Possibilities

As a CAT student working on my Fluid Curating project, this event was a goldmine. I heard so many artist presentations that aligned with what I’ve been thinking about—audience interaction, sensory engagement, performative gestures, and curating as a living process.

Some CAP students showed deeply personal work about memory, others presented interactive installations. I had some great chats about how audiences can intervene, not just observe; how we might co-create exhibitions where the boundaries between artist, curator, and viewer start to dissolve.

✨ My Five Curatorial Keywords

To help introduce my ideas during the event, I shared five key themes that define my practice. I’ll share them here too:

  1. Decentralised Curation
    I want to challenge top-down models. Can the audience’s decisions, movements, and emotions shape the exhibition just as much as the curators’?

  2. Audience Intervention
    I’m interested in how viewers might not just observe, but alter—touching, rearranging, or reshaping the work as part of the exhibition itself.

  3. Co-Creation
    Rather than presenting finished works, I want to collaborate with artists to create open structures where outcomes remain fluid and evolving.

  4. Curation as Process
    I see curating as something unfolding in time. Not a fixed result, but a process that’s shaped by those who enter the space and what they bring.

  5. Shifting Curatorial Authority
    What happens when curators give up control, and artists invite intervention? Can letting go create something more alive, more real?

These ideas became beautiful conversation starters. Some CAP students lit up when I described exhibitions as perception practice fields, or when I said, “What if we don’t design the message, but design a mood and let the rest happen?”

One of the artists, Sijia Chen, shared a tree with us—though not just any tree. This one was an installation made of welded steel branches, fuzzy pink yarn, and sparkling hanging ornaments. Right in the center stood a solid metal trunk, something she built herself.
She said it represents those immovable forces in our world—systems, structures, or maybe even fate. But what caught my attention were the branches. Around the steel frame, she invited us to add colorful bendable sticks (they had wires inside, so we could twist them into shapes).
People made spirals, loops, even strange little symbols. This wasn’t just decoration. She called it “an editable tree.”

And honestly, I loved that phrase.

The idea behind it was so powerful. Sure, the trunk—the core—is fixed. But everything around it? Open to change.
It’s a metaphor for participation within structure, for how individuals can intervene, re-shape, and re-narrate even within rigid systems. It reminded me so much of what I’m trying to do with Fluid Curating. Not to destroy the framework of exhibitions, but to invite others into it. To say, “Come, add your branch.” The editable tree became, in that moment, a perfect symbol of co-creation. It was poetic, but also quietly radical.

I walked away thinking: maybe my own curatorial space could offer this same gesture. A framework that’s solid, but soft around the edges. A space where people don’t just observe, but gently re-edit what’s there.

Another work that really stuck with me came from artist Xudong Jia. He showed us a digital interactive piece—on screen, it looked like pink flowers exploding outward, or maybe colorful ink swirling in water. It was beautiful at first glance, almost hypnotic.
Then he told us the title: The Evil Flower.

The screen was equipped with facial recognition. Every time someone approached, the image would shift. The flower would grow bigger, darker, more aggressive.
Jia explained that the piece was about the butterfly effect, about online violence—how no single snowflake in an avalanche is innocent. The more people watched, the more the flower “blamed” them.

It hit me hard. The interactivity wasn’t playful, it was accusatory. You weren’t in control of the work—it was confronting you. That twist in perspective really stayed with me. It wasn’t interaction for interaction’s sake; it was interaction as responsibility.
I kept thinking about how this could fit into my own idea of Fluid Curating—where audience behavior doesn’t just “complete” the exhibition, it actually shapes its emotional direction. What if interactivity could be unsettling? What if being seen by the artwork is part of the artwork?

This piece challenged me. And that’s exactly what I want my exhibitions to do.

🧠 Reflections and Next Steps

This session wasn’t just useful—it was moving. I left with several artists I’d love to follow up with. Some of them are exploring clay as a soft resistance. Others are working with sound, text, or ephemeral materials.
I can already imagine co-curating something gentle, open, and audience-responsive together.

In the next few weeks, I’ll be deepening my readings on participatory art and affective curating. I’ve already started noting quotes from Curating and the Educational Turn that feel like they’re speaking directly to what I’m trying to do:

“They seem to seek not the masterful production of expertise… but the co-production of question, ambiguity and enquiry.” (O’Neill and Wilson, 2013)

Yes. That’s exactly it.

This was more than a networking session. It was a seed-planting moment. And I’m already looking forward to what might grow.

cover

W2-Initial Thoughts on My Curatorial Project

Title: Speculative Curation: Exploring Symbolic Power in the Art Market 🎨💡

 

Introduction: My Theme and Background

 

Lately, I’ve been brainstorming ideas for my curatorial project, and I’ve decided to focus on “Value Construction and Symbolic Power in the Art Market.” This theme was inspired by my personal experiences—working at Sotheby’s made me realize that the value of art isn’t just about the work itself. It’s shaped by a complex interplay of cultural, economic, and social factors. The price tag? That’s just the surface. The real power lies in the narratives and systems behind it.

This theme aligns perfectly with the values of our course, especially the ideas of relational and critical curating. I want my project to explore how auctions construct cultural meanings and challenge viewers to rethink the invisible mechanisms of the art world.

 

Initial Research and Course Insights

As I began my research, the concept of the “Capitalocene” (thanks to our lectures!) became a key lens for my thinking. It frames capitalism as a force that shapes not just economies but also culture and societal structures. This helped me see the art market as more than a transactional space—it’s a microcosm of modern power dynamics.

One example that stood out during our class discussions was the “24/7” exhibition (2020, Somerset House). This show explored the relationship between time and consumer culture, and it sparked my thinking about how auctions—both brief and performative—are like ritualized spectacles of cultural value.

I’ve also been diving into the work of Andreas Gursky, particularly his piece 99 Cent (1999). His hyperreal depiction of consumerism highlights the tension between the mundane and the symbolic—something I think is deeply relevant to the art market.

📖 References:

•Gursky, A. (1999). 99 Cent. C-Print.

•Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste. Harvard University Press.

 

Gursky, A. (1999). 99 Cent. C-Print.

(Source:https://www.andreasgursky.com/en/works/1999/99-cent/zoom:1)

 

 

 

Speculative Curation: My Format and Approach

For my project, I’m envisioning a participatory, interactive exhibition that simulates the experience of an art auction. My goal? To let visitors step into the roles of bidders and experience how value is constructed in real-time. Here’s my current plan:

🎤 Main Exhibition Areas:

1.“The Auction Room”:

•A multimedia installation recreating the atmosphere of a high-profile auction. Participants can bid on artworks using virtual tokens, deciding on their value based on provided backstories.

2.“Behind the Scenes”:

•A display showing how artworks are marketed and their values shaped by institutions, media, and collectors.

🤝 Interactive Elements:

•Visitors will anonymously “bid” on artworks and see how their choices affect the final outcome.

•A live projection of data will show how each piece’s “value” evolves based on audience participation.

This participatory model reflects the “relational curating” we discussed in class. By involving the audience, I hope to transform them from passive viewers into active participants in the symbolic power dynamics of the art world.

 

Critical Reflection: Challenges and Next Steps

Of course, the complexity of this theme presents challenges:

1.Simplifying Complexity:

•The art market involves multiple layers (economic, cultural, political). How do I simplify this for my audience without oversimplifying the meaning?

2.Engaging Participation:

•How do I ensure visitors engage meaningfully with the auction simulation, rather than seeing it as just a “game”?

To tackle these, I plan to:

•Research case studies of famous auctions (e.g., record-breaking Sotheby’s sales) to find accessible yet impactful examples.

•Get feedback from peers and tutors to refine the interactive elements and ensure they resonate with viewers.

 

Next Steps and What I’m Looking Forward To

🔍 What’s next?

1.I’ll dive deeper into auction case studies and symbolic capital theories.

2.Begin drafting initial sketches of the exhibition layout and interactive elements.

3.Share my ideas in group discussions to get feedback and refine my approach.

What I hope to gain:

•Insights from my classmates on how to make the interactive elements more impactful.

•Suggestions on how to balance the educational and participatory aspects of the project.

 

Closing Thoughts

Writing this blog has helped me organize my thoughts and refine my project focus. I’m excited to explore how art auctions are not just about selling artworks but about constructing entire systems of meaning and power. I look forward to getting feedback from everyone—every perspective helps me improve! 😊

(P.S. If you’ve been to an art auction or have thoughts about symbolic power in art, I’d love to hear your insights in the comments! 💬)

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