upstairs, together
I visited a gallery that is also a home that is also art that is also warm that is also complete yet in progress. I want to tell you about it.
I have known Maddog for the better part of a decade and I won't ever dare to try to give her art a label or put it into a neat box. But, if there is one thread that ties together her approach to art - in my view - it is making art accessible for artists and viewers simultaneously.
This is not to say that her art and curation style is boring or simply palatable or understandable, it is instead more like throwing open the front gates to a spectacular mansion. As a viewer you are encouraged to engage, to touch, to not stress trying to understand, to feel like you yourself are a part of the infinite dance of creation.
I suppose that is why the Upstairs gallery feels like such a logical extension of her hand, it reeks of her input and of her generous sharing of space. There is no pretension in the Upstairs land, it is composed of a collection of artists who have chosen to share themselves with a willing audience, with a vulnerability and an intimacy that doesn't exist in all shared art spaces. Let me give you the note on the fridge that explains it all:
You enter this home and you are instantly greeted with a message like this. How else can you feel other than comfy and complete? I think what sticks with me so much is the call to action. Yes, you reading this, you are invited to pursue participation in the collective project. Come cook, come stay, and be in the space.
One of the highlights of the gallery for me was the 8-bit playable map of the entire residency. You can play it for yourself and experience the entire gallery as created by Catspillow / David Bigg. You can control a mini Maddog as she navigates the gallery in her apartment. It is a pretty nifty piece of work, and I was lucky enough to play it on a GameBoy as seen below:
On the walls on your way up to the gallery there are photos of patrons covering the walls. Upon first reaching the Upstairs you are greeted with a crochet house with a camera in it. Our first steps in this place help us to immediately contribute to the work, to add our faces to the hundreds of others that have already adorned the walls. A perfect harmony of my 2 favourite things... images & textiles.
oh hi there brie! credits to @charellejazmin
There are zines on the walls, zines on the tables. Collections of all the people who have been by and who have shown up. There are apples on the wall, a stained glass oven window, and the bunny Arnaud (visit him in the 8-bit game). There is a plastic and paper mattress, a blanket fort, paintings and collages. There is a video of a dancer on the bed, there are pencil markings on the walls. There is a VR-headset with colour glitch images of the set up of the gallery. I ask if there is anything on the balcony, to which Maddog replies, "Yes, but are you ok if it involves pyrotechnics?" Excellent.
Quirky spaces give us life and love and what a joy it was to explore this space on the eve of my birthday. A welcome journey and gift. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the type of work it takes to create successful spaces that feel fulfilling for the heart. I think the secret recipe is:
genuine, lovely people mixed with
creative & conversational output that is good for the soul
given some adequate space (physical or digital) for a playground to emerge
with a big hug from a pal
So all in all, a very deep collaborative success among so many cool people. Thank you to all the Upstairs artists, to Maddog for creating and to Mia for being the directrice!
If you would like to visit Upstairs, it continues on for a while. I direct you to click a few links on Maddog's website to find out how to visit.
A way for you to participate from away. This was written on the wall of the gallery:
If you would like, please tell me about a memory that you have. Send to tellmeaboutmemory[at]gmail[dot]com or DM @tellmeaboutmemory on IG. If possible, attach a photo of an object which relates to this memory.
Considering this is the second gallery review on my blog (first one here), I feel almost like a real art guy. Or, better said in the words of the great poet Blaketheman1000, "I pull up to the club with my girl and five other friends, I'm not a critic. But if I was, I would say all of them are 10s."
Love and hugs,
sam