20 Planet of the Arts / May-June 1996 A oe RI Change. and wuiol UV 20 April 96 = Chuck’s Pub. For some the revelation came off a bit flat. | heard more than one prac- iced scenester bemoan the loss of queerness as evidenced by the bsence of sex. If the lesson of Juicy is, finally, that there ain’t much of a iff between breeders and their betters (at least in terms of art making), hen what we're left with is something of a minor crisis in identity poli- ‘tics - that institutionalized difference is maybe more like institutionalized privilege. A dangerous argument in the wrong hands. Wal ce Sitting with a warming draught, making notes for this three-in-one mega-review. Someone named Chris, quite loaded, has just finished interrupting me. Appar | “write too much”, his opening line. The next was an abrupt come on. And then he got mad. Ooops. 28 April 96 Art’s Club. Exact Change. Or is it called The Money Show? Or both? How can | write a review when | can’t even recall the title? The shaved headed wide-lipped bartender is wearing a lavender silk shirt and vertically striped bell bottoms in a small ocean of West End fags (its the Riley Tea Dance relocated). Remarkably, or perhaps not, all in my The Money Show gives a double take - art about money; party are certain he is a breeder. and art in the context of monetary valuation. As a cura- torial venture | prefer the latter. Not that Kevin’s super- slo mobile doesn’t rock, but what | find more engaging is the sidescript, locating with contractual precision what the ‘fair’ price of the piece should be. Straight White Male. | fess up: | helped to “curate” this show, so | won’t try coming off as critically distanced. There’s something definitely interesting about the fact that | and my gay co-rep Bryan were more or less invited into the organizational gig for .. SWM. My own Mephistophilean take is that the SWM curatorial agency needed a little queer lube to smooth passage through the tunnel of potential recrimination. If and when we got slagged for staging a show- pcase of SWiM culture (so vastly underrepresented) one of the overprivi- ged straight white men in the group could simply point to the fags nd say “see, it ain’t just us straight guys doing it for ourselves!” And hey would be right, which was supposed to be the point of the show - ‘s value, as such. It was supposed to be a show about SWiMs, not nec- ssarily by and for them. And hence its potential cheek. 22 April 96 Rumrunners Lounge So what is our art worth? The Money Show tells us that our labour is worth a walloping $15.00/hour. I’d do bet- ter with a low end union gig. (And then, at least, | wouldn’t have to be jealous of other people’s talent.) But | decided I’d be an artist since the prospect of wage slavery fills me with a calcifying dread. Art for me, fella. Poor, but smart. Drunk, sassy and in real terms - the terms rendered ironically by Exact Change - endlessly broke, a situation remedied really only by fame. 0 April 96 osman Motor Inn o did it happen? Did the meanies get. it in the end? Aside from the eeming caricatures of gun totin’ and beer guzzlin’ coolers, or the more disturbing, plainly misogynist work, the representations of SWiMs gener- lly exceeded the capacity of the term to contain them. There was omething of perhaps even fondness for what | had presumed to be the ast salvageable shoe-box identity of the late 20th C. The show might ave been better titled My Favourite Masculinity (Irrespective of Sexual rientation, Ethnic Identity, or Gender). Guys as gurl supermodels, guys as friends doing unidentifiable things to Astroturf, guys as famous paint- gs, guys as guys kissing other guys’ bums, guys as dads, guys as aughters, guys as guys, and other more even weirder stuff. The ‘worth’ of works in the show is identically formulat- ed: costs and labour. Seems equitable: there is no hier- archy of value as determined by reputation. But how can one invest in so regulated a market? What if Nik’s piece is actually way better than Kevin’s? Maybe I'd pay Nik $16.50 to make art about art about money. Or per- haps not, but there’s the point, | think. Exact Change provokes that shaky question of fiscal vs. cultural value, the algorithm of if talent then fame then wealth, and emphasizes in its own charming fashion that the equa- tion works right to left, but not necessarily left to right. Excellent. ‘Cool, eh. “®& 23 April 96 The Royal. Dolly drag. The six foot+ queen in the multistory curly platinum wig is literally frightening the clientele with her filthy mouth. This is culture. Them Queers. Juicy, Cultivating Queer Cultures pulled a mini-coup by escaping the tiny orbit of ECIAD into the mega-universe of the Vancouver parallel gallery scene, i.e., a week at the Grunt. But this upscale venue only exacerbates the nagging and oft-asked question, why a queer show - or why a show of work by queers - or why a show of queer work? To stick to the theme, what's the value of a show on, around, about dykes, fags, bi- things, trannies, and loser straights? Well plenty, fuck face. ‘Cause it is interesting to ask, over and over, what defines this queer thing. | go to queer shows, and participate in them, because | want to see what a bunch of sexual miscreants can get up to, or down for, or on about. I’m interested for the same rea- son that I’m interested in what’s happening with the whole I-P scam. Basically, Juicy tempts you to believe that there may be something to queer (self) identity that actually links it up across individual expression. The short answer is, of course, that queerness is just as var- ied (and just as voluntary) in art as in life. So the value of the show, to belabour the point, is its unintentional detooling of the assumed inevitability of explicitly ‘sexu- al’ and/or victim imagery in so-called queer work. 20 Planet of the Arts / May/June 1996 A ae RT Change and suiof UV 20 oi96 =< 2 Chuck's Pub. for some the revelation came off abit flat. | heard more than one prac- iced scenester bemoan the loss of queemess as evidenced by the absence of sex. If the lesson of Juicy is, finally, that there ain’t much of a iff between breeders and their betters (atleast in terms of art making), hen what we're left with is something of a minor crisis in identity pol- —- Sitting with a warming draught, making notes for this three-in-one mega-teview. Someone named Chris, quite loaded, has just finished interrupting me. Apparegy! tics that institutionalized difference is maybe more like institutionalized “yirite too much", his opening line. The next was a ° privilege. A dangerous argument in the wrong hands. abrupt come on. And then he got mad, ‘oops. \\ 28 April 96 Art's Clu. The shaved headed wide-lipped bartender is wearing a lavender sik shit and vertically striped bell bottoms in a small ocean of West End fags (its the Riley Tea Dance relocated). Remarkably, or perhaps not, all in my party are certain he isa breeder. The Money Show gives a double take - art about money; ‘and art in the context of monetary valuation. As a cura torial venture I prefer the latter. Not that Kevin’s super: slo mobile doesn’t rock, but what I find more engaging isthe sidescrip, locating with contractual precision ‘what the ‘air’ price of the piece should be. Straight White Male. | fess up: | helped to “curate” this show, so I won’t try coming off as critically distanced, There's something definitely interesting about the fact that | and my gay cco-rep Bryan were more or less invited into the organizational gig for 22 April 96: ‘SWM. My own Mephistophilean take is that the SWM curatorial agency Rumrunners Lounge yeeded a litte queer lube to smooth passage through the tunnel of potential recrimination. If and when we got slagged for staging a'show- So what is our art worth? The Money Show te8s us that se of SWIM culture (so vastly underrepresented) one of the overprivi ‘our labour is worth a walloping $15.00/hour. I'd do bet- | 7 esed straight white men in the group could simply point to the fags ter with a low end union gig. (And then, atleast, | . and say “see, it aint just us straight guys doing it for ourselves!” And wouldn't have to be jealous of other people's talent.) : : DF ihey would be right, which was supposed to be the point of the show But I decided I'd be an artist since the prospect of wage cm, te {vs value, as such. It was supposed to be a show about SWiMs, not nec slavery fils me with a cakifying dread. Art for me, fll s ssarily by and for them. And hence its potential cheek. Poor, but smart. Drunk, sassy and in real terms - the 2 terms rendered ironically by Exact Change - endlessly broke, a situation remedied really only by fame. Bosman Motor Inn Tso did it happen? Did the meanies get it in the end? Aside from the seeming caricatures of gun totin’ and beer guzzin’ coolers, or the more Listurbing, plainly misogynist work, the representations of SWiMs gener lly exceeded the capacity ofthe term to contain them. There was something of perhaps even fondness for what | had presumed to be the Mieast salvageable shoe-box identity of the late 20th C. The show might have been better titled My Favourite Masculinity (Inespective of Sexual (Orientation, Ethnic Identity, or Gender). Guys as gurl supermodels, guys as friends doing unidentifiable things to Astroturf, quys as famous paint- ings, guys as guys kissing other guys’ bums, guys as dads, quys as, daughters, quys as guys, and other more even weirder stuff The ‘worth’ of works in the show is identically formulat: ced: costs and labour. Seems equitable: there is no hier- archy of value as determined by reputation. But how ‘ean one invest in so regulated a market? What if Nik’s piece is actually way better than Kevin's? Maybe I'd pay Nik $16.50 to make art about art about money. Or per haps not, but there's the point, I think. Exact Change provokes that shaky question of fiscal vs. cultural value, the algorithm of if talent then fame then wealth, and ‘emphasizes in its own charming fashion that the equa tion works right to left, but not necessaly left to right. Excellent. cool, eh.“ 23 April 96 The Royal Dolly drag, The six foots- queen in the multstory curly platinum wig is literally frightening the clientele with her fithy mouth. This is culture. Them Queers. Juicy, Cultivating Queer Cultures pulled a ‘mini-coup by escaping the tiny orbit of ECIAD into the _mega-universe of the Vancouver parallel gallery scene, ie., a week at the Grunt. But this upscale venue only ‘exacerbates the nagging and oft-asked question, why @ {queer show - or why a show of work by queers - or why ‘ show of queer work? To stick to the theme, what's the value of a show on, around, about dykes, fags, bi- things, trannies, and loser straights? Wel plenty, fuck face. ‘Cause itis interesting to ask, over and over, what defines this queer thing. I go to queer shows, and participate in them, because | want to see ‘what a bunch of sexual miscreants can get up to, or down for, or on about. I'm interested for the same rea son that I'm interested in what's happening with the whole IP scam. Basically, Juicy tempts you to believe that there may be something to queer (sel) identity that actually links it up across individual expression. The short answer is, of course, that queerness is just as va ied (and just as voluntary) in art asin life. So the value ‘of the show, to belabour the point, sits unintentional