We speak little about the role rejection plays in shaping who we are—how it defines who belongs in our world and the world at large, who doesn’t, how soul-shattering it can be; and yet, how powerfully it can propel our projects, our ideas, and ourselves.
For years, I’ve wanted to make an exhibition around the concept of rejection. As I struggled to put into words how it feels to be rejected—other than shit—I turned to Frida Kahlo’s 1944 drawing Boceto preparatorio para la columna rota [Preparatory Sketch for The Broken Column], which depicts the artist’s mutilated spine as a fragmented Ionic column. The metaphor of the crushed structure which holds humans and buildings alike, resonated with me as I thought about my own trajectory as an exhibition-maker which has mostly gone unnoticed; my romantic life which feels like a perpetual yearning; and my own condition as a chronic nitpicker.
I am what some might call a “loser”.
Any desire and every display of enthusiasm has been met with muted apathy—something countless others have experienced in their careers, dreams, and romantic aspirations.
This exhibition is not exhaustive, nor scholarly. It’s the final episode of a trilogy (You to Me, Me to You, 2023; From Dreams You Wake Up, 2024) in which I gather works, artists, and lives to explore themes through feeling, generating a turn towards the emotive.
As a warning, many of the artists in the show are my friends—and every single one of my friends is part of this project.
