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What Happens When the Exhibition Starts Listening Back?
Who decides what an exhibition means? Why are we only allowed to read curatorial narratives, not rewrite them?
Fluid Curatingasks: What if the audience could rename the space? Redraw the paths? Retell the story?
This is a curatorial experiment in shared authorship and disrupted authority. There’s no single narrative. No fixed wall text. Just a living, rewritable system shaped by the people inside it.
If you’ve ever felt that exhibitions speak at you instead of with you— this project is for you.
👇 Click to enter the proposal space: floor plan, visuals, public programme, zine, and a decentralised curatorial vision—ready to be rewritten.
Acknowledgements Looking back, this course has been so much more than I expected. I want to sincerely thank our lecturers and tutors—not just for teaching, but for constantly encouraging reflection, experimentation, and emotional honesty. Your feedback and provocations really shaped how I see curating now.
To my peers—thank you for your openness, support, and all the moments of shared vulnerability and laughter. Working alongside you helped me learn just as much outside the classroom as inside.
And finally, thank you to the way this course was designed: every week built something new, and every assignment felt like an invitation to grow. I’m walking away not just with a project, but with a deeper understanding of what curating can be—and who I am within it.
This week, we had our first group induction at Summerhall’s Collective Space, a warm, wood-panelled room tucked inside one of Edinburgh’s most creatively charged venues. I arrived thinking it would be a basic orientation, but I left with a heart full of new ideas. This wasn’t just about booking a space. It was about rethinking what curating can feel like when it’s shared, soft, and sensory.
First Impressions: More than Just a Room
There’s something irresistibly gentle about the space. The soft chairs, the ambient light, the way the layout invites you to sit down instead of just pass through. It felt less like a classroom and more like someone’s lounge. Immediately, I started imagining how Fluid Curating could unfold here. Maybe it doesn’t need pristine white walls or polished installations. Maybe what it needs is presence, care, and an openness to small, shared rituals.
Planning Ahead: Our Group Bookings
We’ve officially booked two slots at Summerhall:
March 20 (1–3pm): A preparation session with film sharing and early interaction testing
March 29 (1–3pm): Our group session with playful, collaborative activities
Both will take place in the Collective Space room, where we hope to build something that feels light, interactive, and deeply personal.
Group Vision: Feeling, Play and Everyday Curation
In our 11:11 team meeting, one thing was clear. We’re not aiming for a flawless exhibition. Instead, we want to create a space where curating feels like friendship.
For the March 20 session, we’re preparing a film-sharing afternoon. Each of us will bring a short experimental video, ideally from UbuWeb or elsewhere, and share why we chose it. We’ll keep each screening around 10 minutes, then take a moment to talk. It’s not a lecture. It’s a chance to let the emotional weight or beauty of the work linger in the room.
We’ve assigned responsibilities too:
Sarah is bringing the projector and extension cable
Yiran Gu and I will bring paper to cover the windows
Beichen is bringing popcorn
Yuman is bringing tape
Everyone will bring their own chosen video and talk about it briefly beforehand
Following the screening, we’ll play a wordless charades-style game, interpreting emotions through body movement. The idea is to explore how feelings are communicated visually and how curation might hold space for non-verbal forms of meaning.
Planning for Week 2 orWeek 3
For Week 2-3, we’re planning a quiet flower arranging session just for our group. Each of us will bring a small bouquet, and together we’ll build a shared installation using what we’ve gathered. There won’t be any audience or pressure. It’s just us, spending time with the materials, moving gently, seeing what happens.
I love how this feels. It’s not about creating something impressive. It’s about noticing small changes, being present with each other, and letting the space shift with our touch. To me, this is also a form of curating. Not fixed, not finished. Just unfolding, slowly and softly.
Group Schedule at a Glance
Date
Time
Activity Title
Notes
March 20
1–3 pm
UbuWeb Film Sharing & Charades
Private group session with discussion and games
March 29
1–3 pm
Playful Collective Curation
Public-internal event with flowers, scent and zine
April (TBC)
TBC
Soft Closing Exhibition
To be confirmed based on outcomes and group feedback
📝 Final Thoughts
This week wasn’t just about getting access to a venue. It was about co-creating a space that might host something delicate, something in process. I feel lucky to be part of a group that values process over polish and vulnerability over perfection.
Curating, I’m beginning to see, doesn’t need to shout. Sometimes it’s about whispering softly and making room for someone to hear themselves.