Dear you,
There was a kid who often questions everything and everyone, fascinated by the wonders he read and watch, intriguied with the slightest different ideas in life, wants to know everything in the whole world, looking forward to meet his friends at school, play and learn new things, but he was ridiculed and forced to stop coming to school by the very people who are supposed to look after the education of the younger generation.
He vowed to never return back to school and swears that he will find his way in society without stepping into the formal education system. He decided to be home schooled, teaching him self the things he needs to know and want to know and somehow suceeded obtaining his Junior High School and High School certificate, but realise that he needs to re-enter the formal higher education system. At that time his family was in a financial disadvantage, unable to send him to University of his choice. “Ah if there is no way, I will make way!” is what he thinks so he starts selling freshly made soy milk in the traditional market from 4AM – 7AM, and work at a shoe store from 7AM – 6PM every day Monday to Sunday for 2 years saving a little of his earning for his goal and the rest to support his family. He end up saving enough money to enroll in a small University in his hometown, not his first choice, not his dream University or program, but compromises must be made. Eventually, life becomes a little bit kinder to him, he gets a discount for his tuition, and became a ghost writer for students learning overseas, he was also able to travel various cities in his country from a part time job as a research team. Days turn to weeks, weeks to months, and months to 4 years worth of Undergraduate Degree, he graduated.
Amidst looking for a job to have a better shot in the future, he landed an interview for a job he obviously don’t want but need, he sat in front of the building, smoking. Grey blue-ish smoke exits his mouth and breathed back through his nose, sucking the cancerous nicotine induced moment slighty, giving him the buzz like a short circuited feeling randomly appearing in his brain before finally exhaling it to the air, contributing to the city’s pollution. Just when he finished and was about to enter the office building for the interview, he saw the faces of people inside, they look devastated. He remembers all the things he enjoy, random street gigs, museums, libraries, art galleries, places where he feel most welcomed, random flashes of memories during his home schooling days appears. I want to be in a place I am welcomed and feel belong, I want to work in culture, he says to him self though not sure what he means by it, unsonsciously muttering it to him self, he turn around and never look back.
Not long after he found an opportunity to be a volunteer in an art museum, he was always fascinated by art, the ideas conveyed through the works he often didn’t understood, something he cannot comprehend why, and a promise he made with him self “I want to work in Culture”, and he has to start somewhere. He applied and got the chance to volunteer, it was a big museum, first of it’s kind in his country. As a volunteer gallery sitter, his job is quite simple, “make sure the visitors don’t touch the artwork, and are well informed with the museum’s facilities, you may speak about the exhibition or works with the visitors, and if there is something you don’t know, refer them to the museum’s staff” said the Head of Facility Department. There, he was able to observe how people in the museum work and witness how passionate they are with what they do, he gets to speak with fellow volunteers and visitors about art he likes, and listen to the perspectives of others. He volunteered for 5 days a week, not caring about looking for a job, day by day he commutes from his house at 5AM and arrives in the Museum at 7AM, he then get back home at 5 or 6PM with no complaints.
In a particular pillar in the Museum’s gallery, there is this one painting by a Japanese painter, Yoshihara Jiro, founder of the Gutai Bijutsu Kyoukai group, it was just a simple white circle with a black background, guache on paper, untitled, and yet… There is something that draws him to it. He often spend 5 – 10 minutes before the gallery opens or closes standing in front of the painting in silence, strangely almost religiously admiring it, as if praying to it for something he has yet to know. He enjoys sharing what he thinks of the painting to other people, visitors, fellow volunteers, and museum staffs. Yuugen, translated roughly is mysterious profundity, a beauty that we can feel or sense gushing out of an object, even though the beauty doesn’t exist in the literal sense of the word and cannot be seen directly. He thinks Yoshihara Jiro’s painting has that.
Untitled, Yoshihara Jiro (1905 – 1972)
He was so touched it made him want more people to feel the same way he does, or at least know the reason on why he feels that way. Art is magical, an eerie feeling of happiness always creeped in everytime he see art he likes, music that touches his soul, or stories that moves him. But everything will eventually have to end, like the leaves that wither in autumn. The exhibition ends after a short 6 months, the museum closes preparing for it’s next exhibition. Shamelessly he tried to apply for the Education and Public Program Department of the Museum, he was eager to learn how to further help an artwork speaks to people, and contribute with the little knowledge and expereince he has. Having informal education experience him self, he realizes that learning is not bound by books and classes, learning is a lifelong practice and you can learn beyond the restricition of classroom walls. Just like Yoshihara Jiro said to his Gutai members, “Do what has never been done before!”, he decided that he wants to learn and share about the importance of art and culture to people. “Continuing with what I like isn’t just about enjoyment, I will and must face many difficulties” “Can I really do it? Makes me anxious but I do it precisely because I lacked confidence and want to be better” is what he thinks. But, impostor syndorme is attacking him, anxious waiting for an answer from the museum. One month later, after several interviews, he was accepted, it was one of the happiest day in his life, he felt like he achieved something, not knowing that it was the beginning of a whole adventure full of collective achivements.
After working in the Museum for 3 years, looking around, he still compares him self to other staff, “What is it that only I can do?” he asked. While he is happy and inspired by his mentors, friends, and colleagues in the museum, he always thinks that he is still lacking in so many aspects, the more he learns, the more he is served with questions,.
“It’s all right, all we need to do is enjoy” he said, assuring him self.
Silly him, he did not know that through the public programs and projects he work on tirelessly with his team, there are many people who understands artworks better, realising issues that once was not in their radar, met fellow like minded people to start a project, help them with their studies, even start their own business.
He realizes that a public program in cultural institution is not just supplementary, it is an integral factor of the institution, especially for museum as a vital further learning element. Public programs are designed so that cultural institutions can interact in a two or more ways for further learning, a hub for the public to be able to discuss contemporary topics across interdisciplinary subjects through arts and culture. The kid is now working on the program development and curation for a Culture House, where he realizes, that not just artists, but many craft makers and cultural bearer are facing not just financial challenges but also difficulty on perserving their heritage, identity, and culture. Alone, a cultural artefact can be fascinating, but the value of it is seldom reduced for the sake of capital interest. Lack of research in developing a cultural program, unsustainable tourism that do more harm than good towards grassroot and indigenous communities, unresponsible approach in creative industrialisation of culture, exotisation of cultural bearers and their practice, little to non-existent of policy that’s in favour of grassroot and indigenous community, lack of government support, wrong approach on usage of new technology such as AI, etc. He never encountered this problem during his time working in the art museum, he was comfortable, inside his posh fine art bubble. Once the bubble bursts, he felt it, a streak of feeling of sadness, followed by dissapontment, and then rage… He was angry and like he was back when he was a small wee boy, he said to him self “If there is no way, I will make way”. During his research on how and what can be done to even the odds against all those challenges, while in the same time trying not to fall into some god complex “ooh I’m a saviour” ditch, he met a lot of people, old and new friends, who are struggling to do the same thing.
Sitting in front of his laptop, in an ex-hospital building recycled into a campus in Edinburgh, thinking hard on what he wants to do for an initial Project Idea for his master’s degree. The kid thinks “Maybe, just maybe, I want to make a simple exhibition of artefacts (some artwork, puppets, textiles, and 3D printed weaponries) from my country talking about the chaotic nature of a place called future, that is right in front of us but can never be reached, and one or two public program on how we constantly navigate through the passage of time to avoid the worst possible outcome. And a glistening small light of hope for the future”.
Although he is keen to bring his idea to realisation, he is still not sure how, and once again said to him self “It’s all right, all we need to do is enjoy” assuring him self.
Warm regards,
The kid
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