We disidentify with the many representations of exceptional feminism that surfaced in the wake of the metoo-movement.
Feminism is essentially transfeminist.
We want a action-based feminism that whacks binary logic and engages in a relentless grapple with sex, sexuality and gender categories.
A feminism that aims to undo, deflate and traverse the utterly violent regime that put flesh on this commanding fiction’s bones.
A feminism that bears witness of the historically feminized, those who failed or refused to affirm and legitimize the insular, speculative minds of a few consenting big daddys, and therefore had to go.
A feminism that minds sexuality and knows that sexuality by default is queer. Originally queer [sic]!
We want a feminism that knows when and how to mobilize the performative uses of strategic essentialism, when abuse of power is evident and the survival and sustension of nonexceptional bodies are at stake.
A feminism that is humble and steady in the face of those who already live under the ”unlivable” conditions that sustainability discourse plots out when projecting into the future. Futurity is a trodden path for normative violence, and death as we know it is already upon us. We want a feminism that lives up to and faces down this truism.
A feminism that endures and thrives in this state of post-palliation.
We want an art world devoid of ethnic profiling.
We want an art world that actively works to redistribute the representational burden forced on minorities.
An artworld that intercepts heteronormativity and actively engages in blasting it’s presumptious grooves into outer space.
We want an artworld capable of dissecting the uses of erotic capital, an artworld that forges an interrogation of the interrelation between racism, sexism and colonial reason. Anger has a part to play. Facilitate it, give it devotion and time.
We want a sexopolitical art world that demands those in power to strip.
We want every body!
We want an art world without physical obstacles, where our magnificent and equally mediochre bodies have a spot, regardless of capacity to be incorporated in the capitalist production system.
We want to know why the artworld is still so capitally class-segregated.
And what about this belated age-segregation, where we always already passed the expiry date?
We want to know why grasping the scope of our different preconditions, and embracing them, is so hard. Visibility will not hold us. Anything but unkempt identity will tear us apart.
And yes, we want to know why it seems impossible for the artworld to understand that generosity and care are deliberate, radical political tools, not submissive signs of weakness (fools!).
This is how we learned somewhere down the line to cultivate our desire to work together, to always negotiate perspectives and never let prestige governed culture pump it’s petty poison through our systems. To always push for a scene, never ceasing to believe in transformation. To always be present, always forging a contact zone, never letting silence divide and rule, ever.
(And yes, we credit Zoe Leonards 1992 text ”I want a president”. )