A huge thank you to the Center for Craft and this year’s selection panelists for awarding me a CRF Project Grant. This grant will continue to sustain me in my research on American broom making practice and history. A big congratulations to the other awardees as well - Karen Baker, Jacqueline Bishop, Kira Dominguez Hultgren, and Stacey Mitchell.
SUMMER TRAVEL III
While it is no longer summer, my last summer update comes in November, with the completion of an event that I was working toward during warmer months.
In August, my last bit of summer travel was back east to MASS MoCA for a short artist residency. In addition to dropping off some work (see below) and working through some pieces for a future collaboration with writer (and friend) Mandy Gutmann-Gonzalez, I also taught a one-day zine-making workshop for local teens.
The work I delivered was for Like Magic curated by Allie Foradas, which opened last weekend on October 28th. From the press release:
“Like Magic addresses contemporary artists’ relationships to technologies associated with magic—including devices, talismans, rituals, incantations—and invites visitors to explore the points where technology and magic converge.”
I am so honored to be showing some of my newer and older witch objects alongside the works of Simone Bailey, Raven Chacon, Grace Clark, Johanna Hedva, Gelare Khoshgozaran, Rose Salane, Petra Szilagyi, Tourmaline, and Nate Young. The opening was joyous and beautiful.
Like Magic will be on view for the next two years in Building 4.2.
NEW JOB + MERGOAT
Sad to leave UW-Green Bay’s Art Department, but happy to report that I am now a Full-Time Metals Lecturer at UW-Madison. It’s a studio I know well, and I’m happy to steward it until a TTP can be found/filled.
Also, my first published article found the perfect home in Mergoat Magazine No.3 / Kindly of A Queer Nature. It is now out! In “Homecoming: Craft, Queerness, and Hopefulness” I get real candid about my feelings about mastery, perfection, craft, metal, binary breaking, and (naturally) brooms. If you want to read it, I encourage you to buy the issue - or subscribe - and support Mergoat. They’re doing the good works.
https://mergoat.com/mergoat-magazine/
SUMMER TRAVEL II
Oh Ox-Bow, I miss you already.
Last month was my first time to the 113-year-old art school a couple hours outside Chicago in summery Saugatuck, Michigan. While there, I got to see LJ Roberts give an artist talk where they quipped “Ox-Bow is the queer summer camp I always wanted and never had.” This sums up my feelings about the place better than I ever could do. I hiked, read, marveled, thought, relaxed and shared meals with other artists over a beautiful week. It was healing. (There also may have been some recreational record shopping at the incomparable Vertigo Records in GR).
I taught a broom-making workshop for four days on the campus’ meadow alongside a lagoon. This ample time allowed for a breadth of forms and techniques to be covered (in both sunshine and rain) and for some experimentation to happen. Before I knew it, students were sculpting their corn, making brooms off of lamp stands, weaving in their hair, and creating glass broomsticks. It was a teaching highlight for sure.
I left most of demo pieces with the campus, with the schools maintenance team and in different studios, fit to purpose. I hope that they may be used to continue aiding this site of kinship and generation for years to come.
Soon you’ll be able to find brooms of mine at Ox-Bow House, in bright neons as a tribute to the school and the colors that my students gravitated toward during the workshop.
Til’ next time Ox-Bow. Thank you for the the space to do good work, and the friends alongside that work.
Holding Hoping, 2023 by Lisa Walcott
Glass handled broom by Rachel Brace
Broomcorn samples by Jo Cordasco
+ other works by Kristina, Sue, and Shannon
SUMMER TRAVEL I
Just got back from a fruitful trip south to North Carolina, Tennessee, and Kentucky. I could not have asked for better weather as I camped among the Appalachian trees and soaked up a little early summer sun. Now that I am back in Madison and a heat wave has hit, I miss it especially.
I began at John C. Campbell Folk School, in Brasstown, NC, attending a broom making class with the head of Broomcraft at Berea College, Chris Robbins. It has been so long since I’ve taken a class on broom making that it felt like leveling up. I left with some more specialized techniques that I can’t wait to continue playing with.
I then drove north to Cookeville + Smithville, TN, to see friends at the Appalachian Center for Craft at Tennessee Tech, and enjoy a relaxing vegan barbecue for Memorial Day. Much love to Ashley Lusietto and Eleanor Rose for hosting me - those grad school ties run deep!
Then, I continued on to see Berea’s historic College Craft Program’s studios in person - and visit the excellent Hunter L.V. Elliot and Erin R. Miller. In addition to seeing the studio’s vast plethora of broom making operations and equipment, I made my first broom on a kick winder. A real game changer - now on the hunt for one for myself!
Finally, I headed to Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill - my most southern Shaker village visit to date. After a restful stay with my SPSC friends in Lexington, I drove back north to Madison. I am still stunned that I managed to accomplish so much in one week. Time for for some slowness.
SUMMER TEACHING 2023: Ox-Bow + MATC
Happy to announce that I will be teaching a short term broom making workshop at Ox-Bow School this summer, for their Art on the Meadow series. I'd love to see you there - already dreaming about Michigan in the summer!
BROOM MAKING BASICS
DATES: Tuesday–Friday, July 11–14, 2–5 p.m.
FACULTY: Cate O’Connell-Richards
TUITION COST: $225
Become a broomsquire at Ox-Bow! Learn the foundations of handmaking brooms and whisks. This workshop will feature a presentation on the development of American broom making, including both traditional Appalachian and New England techniques, an introduction to broom making materials, and basic handmaking skills. Included will be demos on a turkey wing whisk, cobwebber, besom, and traditional flat sweeper. Students will be able to learn the basics, as well as have the time to experiment with different handles, weaves, materials, and forms. Four-day workshops do not include lunch. A four-day lunch plan is available for an additional $75. Please select this option when registering if you wish to join us for lunch each day at 1 p.m.
See HERE for more information.
Also, for my more local friends, I will be teaching a one week basic enameling intensive through Madison College and their Continuing Education Program. I’ve been teaching with MATC for a couple years now and have such a good time with their community of students, both new and old. Would love to see you there! No experience necessary.
See HERE for more information.
IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH
I write this as the Fall 2022 semester approaches. My partner, my child, and I just recovered from our first (and hopefully sole) COVID infection after eluding it for two and a half years. The student loan forgiveness has just been announced to the delight and criticism of many.
While both vaccinated and boosted, COVID wrecked our bodies. I am flush with renewed fright. Thinking about the spring of 2020 and all its unknowns, the confusion, the pain in a pre-vaccine atmosphere. Thinking about the future, not wanting annual infection to be some sort of normalcy we all accept.
That infamous spring, my partner and I were to graduate with our MFAs and install solo exhibitions. Suddenly it was all seemingly gone. Three years of research and experimentation. Cancelled exhibits. No more seminars. No more studio and equipment access. No in-person goodbyes to our cohort or mentors. Zoom graduation. No more job through the university. Suddenly unemployed. Cancelled calls and shuttering businesses. Applications sent, only to hear that the search was cancelled. Or nothing at all.
News of dead and dying parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, family.
Since that spring and all it brought, we have been lucky enough to patchwork together a series of part-time lecturing appointments. My combined courses are more time and work than a full-time teaching position at a single institution. It is trying, this adjunct life, the freeway flyer.
That being said, these classes and their chaotic contractual needs, multiple institutions, and mixed online/in-person delivery do allow me something crucial: the ability to shape my schedule in ways I have never had before. These past two years, not only have I gotten to work a job I love – teaching - and grow at it, but the jobs’ formlessness has allowed me to do other necessary work. It has allowed me to start healing.
Just a few years ago I was locked into the intense mindset of (art) academia. The rush of applying, thinking, doing constantly. 18-hour days, collapsing in bed filthy after a day in the studio. Terrifying critiques with committee members who told me to work harder, think more, that my craft was sloppy. The interior criticism of “But what are you adding to the field?” echoing in my head.
I was drinking. Ignoring my traumas. Not reciprocating in my relationships. Burnt to a crisp. I won’t even go into how normalized this felt in the community I was working in.
The onset of the pandemic (coupled with a tremendous breakup) was the beginning of an era which I look back on as transformative. The sudden surplus of time allowed me to acknowledge my traumas, and work with my therapist to shape meetings accordingly. I started researching my ancestors, studying their languages, and partnering with family members to learn. I began cooking more, gardening, and returning the leftover results to compost – little things that I previously had no time for. Regular morning coffee trips and mindful walks around the neighborhood with my new partner became common. I was able to take breaks, clear my head without some boss-figure at my back. My work – whether it was teaching prep, making in the studio, reading, or writing, became slower, more reflective. I became more forgiving and understanding of the process. The pang of shame of taking too long started to weaken. My relationships with my family flourished. And you know what? Counter to what my mind always told me about decelerating, I am doing ok on all fronts. And it is just the beginning.
I think about the benefits we could all feel if our workweeks were lessened. If we were given power to shape our schedules. To be trusted. The recent push by employees to continue to work from home tells me I am not the only one who feels this way. I can see American workers becoming dissatisfied with previous modes of operation and demanding their lives back. I think of these as the so-called phenomenon of quiet quitting where we do “only” what is expected of us. The fact that this is seen as a rebellion by employers plainly illustrates the illness of the working world formed in decades past – one where personal sacrifice and painful work/life imbalance is expected.
I do think we all do what we can to combat fatigue. James C. Scott wrote about “everyday forms of resistance” in his book Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. Scott points out acts such as slowness, dragging feet, indifference, feigning ignorance, and pilfering were employed by Southeast Asian peasants to resist their oppression by those in power. Scott’s work has been cited in two books I recently revisited - Silvia Federici’s Caliban and the Witch, when Federici discusses European serfs’ resistance to taxes and new laws breaking up the “commons,” or shared land (p27), and in Jack Halberstam’s The Queer Art of Failure when discussing contemporary work habits (p88). It is hard for me to not relate, thinking about ways that myself and others have done similar – playing hooky now and again, taking a long break, or avoiding a superior that always has something to pile on top of an already large workload. All to carve out more time for wellness.
Sometimes I think about what could have been. The stimulus checks and student loan forgiveness feel like small penances thrown to dampen what could have been a turning point in American labor. However, I am encouraged when I read about the unionization efforts of workers at juggernauts like Starbucks and Amazon. Perhaps a better future for workers can still come.
I am not writing this without criticism and mourning. I would prefer, of course, that COVID never happened, that those who died could have lived their lives out otherwise. Furthermore, for all the benefits of our jobs, adjuncts like myself and my partner are also sorely underpaid. I would much prefer teaching 2-3 courses per semester with health insurance and security, than the 4-5 I’m currently at in order to eke out a reasonable paycheck. Each semester is uncertain.
While it may seem that I added more work to my life, what happened was an overall sense of slowing. All the tasks added felt necessary. Not for career or intellectual dominance, but for a deepening sense of understanding of my life, health, and love. These seemingly different acts ended up feeding one another, forming a beautiful, evolving, shifting aggregate of me.
BOOK SOURCES
- Federici, Silvia. Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation. New York, NY: Autonomedia. 2004.
- Halberstam, J. The Queer Art of Failure. Duke University Press, 2011.
- Scott, James C. Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. Yale University Press, 1985.
MOODY ISSUE 16
SWEPT: THIS WORK I WILL DO
My latest solo show: SWEPT: This Work I Will Do is now on view at Hancock Shaker Village through November 27th. You can read more about it HERE
QUEER + METALS: SHAPED BY US
Feeling joy at having some of my responses and work included in the essay “Queer + Metals: Shaped By Us” by the amazing Rebekah Frank. Written in conjunction with the Queer + Metals exhibition at Craftspace and the @queer.art.words project.
See the essay here: https://www.rebekahfrank.com/queer-metals-essay
Nodding my head to all these thoughts and feelings. What a wonder to read and feel; Grateful for this project. #queermetalsproject
UNEARTHED ONLINE: A VIRTUAL ZOONOTIC HEX EXHIBITION
Thrilled to be a part of the digital counterpart to Field Projects Zoonotic Hex exhibition: Unearthed Online: A Virtual Zoonotic Hex Exhibition.
SEE THE SHOW:
http://www.fieldprojectsgallery.com/unearthed-online
Lonely explorations of sexuality, nature, and death are Unearthed in this online exhibition. Empty landscapes, intimate domestic moments, frothy and colorful rococo aesthetics, hopeless headlines, and quiet interactions with nature display a collective response to the overwhelming events of the past two years. Revealing fears, anxieties and desires, the artists in Unearthed let us glimpse their individual lives as the ground shifts under them.
Always wanted to show with Field Projects - such a rad space. I see new, interesting work each time I check them out. For those in the NYC area, the opening reception for both in-person and online exhibitions is 3/3 6-8pm 🍄
Full press release HERE
AFFECTIVE HISTORIES II
I feel as if I am now just getting my bearings. Returned from NY just about two weeks ago and now am in the final descent of the semester for the next two. Then, a bit of rest (hopefully) in both Kansas and California.
A big thank you to everyone who has visited Affective Histories so far. The show will remain on view at Hesse Flatow until December 18. Also, much gratitude to Xiao Situ, and those who attended our reading + panel talk. Very proud of us all.
SNAKE HAIR PRESS / OCCULT STUDIES Volume 2: Revolution
A real joy to come home and find my contributor copy of OCCULT STUDIES Volume 2: Revolution by Snake Hair Press. That feeling was then immediately topped by getting to open it up and seeing an image of Umbriel laid out across from a poem by @thejessicaharvey 🌞 Also, how good is this cover by @illustrationwitch 🍄
From SHP: This volume is 32 pages, risograph printed in pine, black, and light lime on gray paper 8.5 in x 5.5 in. 10% of the proceeds redistributed to @keinfoshop a Diné feminist collective with anarchist and communist tendencies in Tséghahoodzaní, Dinétah whose organizing principals are guided by the Diné philosophy of "K’é Hasin," the presence of Kinship and Everlasting Hope, and the belief that we must bind our futures together for total liberation.
http://www.keinfoshop.org/
After production costs, all proceeds will be equally distributed among the all of the contributors.
Much respect and gratitude to Vin for their continued work creating such important (and cool) published works. See Snake Hair Press for the complete list of contributors and purchasing:
https://snakehair.com/shop/occult-studies-volume-2-revolution
AFFECTIVE HISTORIES AT HESSE FLATOW
AFFECTIVE HISTORIES
S. Erin Batiste
Christina P. Day
Mandy Gutmann-Gonzalez
Cate Richards
Julia Rooney
Kelsey Tynik
During my MASS MoCA residency this past summer, I met lots of wonderful artists and writers. Over many meals and conversations, a handful of us bonded, discovering our shared preoccupations with history on both a grand and personal scale. We kept contact beyond that summer and eventually formulated a show about these engagements. So very pleased to announce Affective Histories, November 18 - December 18, at Hesse Flatow (508 W 26th St. Ste 5G, NYC). See our statement and download the press release HERE. Included in the show is a new work of mine, Mopped.
Opening Reception November 18, 6-8pm.
Information on additional events coming soon!
Much love to my AH comrades. Can’t wait to see you in a couple days (and see the things we do beyond that time as well!) Proud of us all!
Broomaking at KCTAC II
Hey KC! Been missing you much and going to be back for my annual visit at the turn of the year 💙 Will be teaching a quickie Turkey Wing Workshop at the lovely Kansas City Textile Arts Center on the winter solstice and I’d love to see you there! 12/21 from 12-3. Enrollment now open, sliding scale available!
Brooms at the Shaker Museum, Old Chatham, NY, 2021
Reflections on 21st century life through the “humble” broom
Brooms are often called humble, lowly, unassuming, common, and the like, in informative articles and think pieces. I don’t really think they are.
My deep dive into the history of American colonial broommaking goes on as I settle in to review interviews and notes gathered from my visits to sites in Massachusetts/New York, read recommended texts, and try to create an image for myself in what would traditionally be the first days of harvest in the northern hemisphere.
I am continually captivated at what I find, especially concerning what I’ve learned about broomcorn and broommaking’s journey from common homestead process, to archetypal industrial revolution crop/product, to a romanticized antiquated craft AND outsourced manufactured good. Throughout the story there is plenty to comment on in terms of both labor and magic - the things I am often looking for - but also a lot of missing stories. I’m thinking about the availability of more information on the colonial espousing of indigenous farming methods for broomcorn, the role of women and children in broom production, and the possibility that sorghums came over via the transatlantic trade of enslaved peoples - as opposed to the efforts of Benjamin Franklin, a common bit of lore that is often repeated, yet doubted as the whole truth by even the most traditional of historians. Disappointingly but expectedly, the hierarchy of whose stories were the most fit to be recorded is clear. More work to be done.
I have also been reflecting about being a contemporary broommaker and the environmental impact that may have - finding ways to not waste corn scrap, questioning my reliance on substantial portions of outsourced broomcorn from Mexico (and not knowing anything about labor conditions there), and reading about cases of soil stress from 19th century broomcorn agriculture. It makes me happy to see so many broommakers growing their own corn in response to concerns like these, trying different fibers, and creating new varieties to keep broomcorn from becoming a monoculture. Admittedly, this is not an area I know too much about, but these seem like good moves. I also think about what the acts of personal homesteading and selling brooms mean in a capitalistic context, and how it can be done alongside decolonial action.
As I hone down further to specifically focus on Shaker broommaking for an upcoming grant proposal, I find myself in awe of the Shaker way of life. They shared their trades, techniques, and labor with both other Shakers and the outside “World”, and on the whole did not sign objects with their makers’ names. Though superbly crafted and beautiful in both function and vision, Shaker artisans did not claim ownership - putting the community first, ego second. Compare this to our contemporary ideals of American labor, artistry, individualism and exceptionalism (both during the colonial period and today).
The iconic Shaker broom served both as a tool of the home but also a loaded spiritual object and ritual tool. Also, upon arrival to what was newly called New York, Mother Ann was accused of being a witch by other colonists. Talk about perfect subject matter - I am excited to continue down this research path and see what I can do with this history.
#broom #broommaking #broommaker #broomcorn #shakerbroom
BACK HOME AGAIN
Just returned from all my summer travels to start prepping for the year to come. The trip this year kicked off with my (long-deferred) residency at MASS MoCA to play around with new ideas for a body of work and research the history of brooms in New England . . . and ended with some much-needed relaxation in Southern California with my partner’s family. New things coming soon!
Broommaking at KCTAC
(Reposted from Instagram. Follow me at @caterichardsart).
Wow. I was catching myself saying these previous weeks “I’ve got this broommaking workshop in KC, no biggie” thinking I’d be in, do my thing, and out. Regular grind amiright? Hell no! Never is! This weekend was my first big workshop as a traveling teaching artist and it was astonishing - I’ve made new friends, kept the old, and had important epiphanies about my teaching. Always a student, even when leading.
The condensed format of a two-day foundational class brought both classic and unique teaching considerations to the surface with speed and acuity. All these questions flooded my mind as I assessed my surroundings, curriculum, and tasks: As teaching artists and craftspeople, what traditions do we want to break with? What history do we want to teach? Do we care about capitalistic endeavors? How can, in our presence, we give back to students, the workspace, the neighborhoods we teach in, and the earth? How do we accommodate the functionality of all bodies and their individual histories? How do we teach “traditional” crafts with limited sources? How can we, when we teach young people, do good for the future? Is it too much, or never enough? It’s a lot, but it is a start. Attempts were made to confront these questions, and even more attempts will happen in the future.
I’m so proud of my first broommaking students - they excelled in executing new and difficult techniques and welcomed me in. We talked openly about mastery, vulnerability, passion, and goals. Their brooms are gorgeous and I am excited about what they will all do in the future with their new knowledge.
Thank you so much @formationfiber for the invite - @kctextileartscenter is a beautiful space, and I can’t wait to visit it again.
And a big thank you to @pleasesendword for the sun-drenched coffee, broom/pedagogical talk, and storysharing. How to see you again soon. Keep on keepin’ on. 🧹
@goowitch @reneespringerart @rebeccavaughanart @spinningknitting1
Artist Talk With Lauren Miller and Amber Rose Cederström
Below is the link to the recent Artist Talk/Q&A I participated in for Carryon at Abel Contemporary. Still reeling from being able to discuss my work with such amazing women.
Cate Richards, Artist Talk at Abel Contemporary: https://vimeo.com/512765659
Carryon
I just finished installing my first post-graduate solo exhibition “Carryon” in Abel Contemporary’s No. 5 Gallery. Space of my dreams! Now open for in-person COVID-compliant visits and a digital tour will be available soon through AC’s website. On view through February 21st. On January 23rd, there will be a (digital) reception, as well as a Q&A with me - time TBD. Keep an eye out on AC’s Instagram for more!
