What does it mean to “get ready with” Atleigh Homma?
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| If I've Been Enveloped in Tenderness at the Brandscape. Photo courtesy of Jamie A.M. |
This Toronto-based multidisciplinary artist showed us her beauty routine from Nov 22-29 at The Brandscape with her first solo show. Curated by Kesang Nanglu, Master of Museum Studies student, curator, artist— If I’ve Been Enveloped in Tenderness made the beauty world a palette for art criticism and friendship.
If I’ve Been Enveloped in Tenderness references the closing song of the 1989 animated film Kiki’s Delivery Service, addressing themes of vulnerability and self-doubt—a soft-hitting familiarity to young women and emerging artists.
"It can be difficult to own your success as an arts professional and I think this is especially the case for many women. However, I don’t think vulnerability and self-doubt are necessarily weaknesses—they grant a curator (or anyone), compassion and empathy in the work that they do," Nanglu shares.
“Priming your face is really important you know? You prime your canvases… you need to do the same for your face.” (source)Homma’s voice welcomed visitors entering the exhibition with a video installation of her series The Joy of Atleigh (Bob Ross anyone?). The project lives on YouTube, Homma taking on the role of Beauty Guru and Vlogger to explore her identity as an artist, mixed-race woman, and young person. Homma blends the boundaries between influencer and parody, with videos such as "GRWM: ART OPENINGS | The Joy of Atleigh". The work juxtaposes expectations of women artists with make-up tips, a criticism so casual that you almost miss it. These subtle subversions position Homma as the subject in a digital world full of objects for social media consumption.
“With going to art events there’s always other expectations involved that need to be maintained like socializing and networking. Here I am doing my mascara, I use waterproof mascara after curling my eyelashes because it holds the curl better.” (source)
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| Atleigh Homma, I like the idea of romantic thoughts, but I’m just not that poetic of a person, 2018. Photo courtesy of Jamie A.M. |
The exhibition continues with paintings and embroidery, Homma navigating images of the western art historical muse in a millennial context. An aesthetic self-portrait in her bedroom is sprinkled with imperfections of an old flannel shirt and a strange feeling of disturbing privacy. Glossier Balm Dotcom and a Stiegl Grapefruit Radler are turned into a hazy still life in embroidery. Homma’s work explores how millennial culture and digital media filter women’s image-making.
Homma explains, "I often feel like I am not taken seriously as a female artist because of my femininity (as well as being bi-racial) which expands to being overlooked or unheard. When I talk to other women about how I feel there is exchange of shared experience, validation and solidarity. So when I make work, I try to ask the art world (but also the digital world) how do we engage with women?"
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| Atleigh Homma, I Don’t Feel Better Yet, 2018. Photo courtesy of Jamie A.M. |
Nanglu and Homma’s relationship was clear the moment I entered, whether it was the portrait of Nanglu front and center or the subtle colour match of their opening night outfits. This intimate layer of the exhibition stayed with me long past the opening. It caused me to consider, how can emerging museum professionals and women in the arts & culture sector practice Shine Theory?
Shine Theory, coined by Anne Friedman and Aminatou Sow, refers to women supporting their peers without seeing it as a threat to their own success. Shine Theory’s solution to “intimidating women” is simple: befriend them, “surrounding yourself with the best people doesn’t make you look worse by comparison. It makes you better” (source). As two young artists in Toronto, Homma and Nanglu could easily perceive each other as competition, but If I’ve Been Enveloped in Tenderness makes it very clear that they, like many of us, are allies.
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| Kesang Nanglu [left] and Atleigh Homma [right] interact with visitors on opening night. Photo courtesy of Jamie A.M. |
Homma describes the process of working with Nanglu as a blessing, "we are very good friends so she was undoubtedly an expert on my work. Furthermore, she was an expert on the YouTube genre itself as well as all the critical theory within my work (she’s brilliant!). I know for me I felt cared for in this experience, she made these amazing pamphlets and designed a fantastic hanging layout. But she also went shopping with me right before the show when I was in a state of panic and helped me. I think that’s really special."
As women in the art world, we are all simultaneously the idealized and the idealizer. When we turn our muses into friends, we support a culture that is collaborative rather than competitive. Perhaps a partial entry to vulnerability is a deeper awareness of how personal relationships shape our practice—enveloping ourselves in tenderness.
