Momus: The Podcast

In the penultimate episode of Season 4 – across which Momus: The Podcast has been engaging writers on the genesis and reception of a particular piece of criticism – Sky Goodden speaks with Kristian Vistrup Madsen about writing Artforum Diary through the pandemic, and bringing the historic column to a more isolated, romantic, and literary space. The conversation also touches on Madsen’s first book, Doing Time: Essays on Using People (Floating Opera Press), which has just been released and features a series of “reflections about the politics of solidarity and appropriation, but also about writing itself and what happens when life is turned into art.” Madsen says, “There’s such an overemphasis on representation as though representation is the sphere in which the violence takes place and not the sphere in which the violence is portrayed.”

This episode gets a jump on summer with artist and filmmaker Tourmaline and writer and producer Muna Mire. In conversation, they discuss Mire’s profile of Toumaline in Frieze (October 2020) and elaborate on Tourmaline’s celebration of trans histories, queer joy, community organizing, Black freedom, and what she describes as her “works of care, of lineage holding, of remembering who we really are and what we deserve.” They also delight in the everyday beauty and mysticism that holds their friendship, and the significance, for Mire, of establishing that textured intimacy in this text. Mire also touches on the experience of writing and publishing in the past year: “The reason this article exists is that people set cars on fire, people burned down police precincts, and the ripple effect of that is really powerful.”

“A school will change you, and it teaches you as much about how people will interpret you, misunderstand and dismiss you, as it will teach you about a creative life.”

Critic, curator, and educator Nora N. Khan reads from “Dark Study: Within, Below, and Alongside,” a feature text published in the inaugural issue of March, which starts with the question: “how to go on?” In discussion with Sky Goodden, Khan describes this question’s implications for a text about the “life and death” of study, especially for first-generation immigrants studying in the US; and the effects of writing this piece in the midst of a crisis for both art education and bodies of color. “This is an effect of trauma,” she says, of writing the piece. A text that operates on several levels and interweaves the personal and the proclamatory, “Dark Study” reads as both a repudiation of professionalism as we’ve come to know it, and a manifesto for the future potential of “mastery” in the arts.

Lauren Wetmore interviews Swiss American curator and writer Alexandra Stock about her scathing critique of Christophe Büchel’s 2019 Venice Biennale project Barca Nostra. Published that same year by the independent Egyptian online newspaper Mada Masr, Stock’s “The Privileged, Violent Stunt That is the Venice Biennale Boat Project” decries an “artworld that repels all criticism of it,” and describes the repercussion of being one of the first voices to publicly denouncing this high-profile artwork.

Rianna Jade Parker reads “Letter from London: What is the Status of Black Artists in England Today?” published in ARTnews (June 2020), and engages Sky Goodden on issues of artworld access, stature, masculinity, precariousness, deference to sovereignty, and duty to one another, for Black British artists working in the UK. From Steve McQueen’s accepting the Knighthood to a broader conversation around meritocracy and the sudden rush of Black British art (after decades of deletion), Parker discusses her feeling of responsibility to her peers through criticism, and the long unmarked history that she’s beginning to write.

“Most other press speaks about Black British art right now as this […] thing that we need to cling to – this idea of Black culture, Blackness, ‘Black Britain’ – without really assessing ourselves or our social situation. I do love art; but I am all of these things before then. I live in a real material world. I try to explain to people ‘I’m in the art world, but not of the art world’. There is no amount of riches or patron support that I could get that would ever change that. And I don’t need it to.”

Dr. Léuli Eshrāghi discusses “tagatavāsā,” a text centered on Eshrāghi’s grandmother’s art practice that interweaves Indigenous language with the vernacular of contemporary art. Eshrāghi works across visual arts, curatorial practice, and university research, “intervening in display territories to centre Indigenous kin constellations, sensual and spoken languages, and ceremonial-political practices.” In this intimate conversation with Lauren Wetmore, Eshrāghi  says, “I wonder how you can bring texts to be haunted by the absence of knowledge, or by the violence of the borders of today.” “tagatavāsā” was published in C Magazine in Winter 2019.

“Like writing, fisting is both a replicable skill and a rarefied art form.” This brachioproctic line begins writer Tausif Noor’s “Hand In Glove” (Artforum, 12 April 2019), a joyfully loaded review of William E. Jones’s novel I’m Open to Anything, released in 2019 by Los Angeles independent publisher We Heard You Like Books. In this searching conversation, Lauren and Tausif discuss Jones’s oeuvre, the importance of independent publishing, and celebrate sexual transgression while lamenting that writing can often feel, like Jones’s description of fisting, “a cork popping in reverse.”

“Let’s stop talking about Philip Guston and start talking about structural racism.” This has been critic Nikki Columbus’s refrain through the past season, issuing what many considered the final word of a furious debate surrounding the postponement of a Guston retrospective. Titled “Guston Can Wait” and published October 27, 2020 in N+1, the text (which Columbus reads for the podcast) deftly summarizes the controversy’s main thrust – the vehemently-shared opinion that postponing the exhibition was a move based in institutional cowardice – before zooming out for the larger context in which museums are actively undermining and purging their own labor forces; that the Guston furor is distracting from these more pressing issues. “I did have fun writing this,” she admits, before stressing, “We have to let go of this myth that we’re more progressive than any other sector or business.”

Season 4 of Momus: The Podcast invites art critics and journalists to talk about an important piece of their writing – texts that carry stories, that ran in prestigious publications to great acclaim, or that were killed under tense circumstances. Every two weeks, co-hosts Sky Goodden and Lauren Wetmore will ask a different writer to read their text to us, and then discuss how it came into being – its inspiration, construction, and impact.

To launch the season, Goodden interviews her co-host Wetmore about a piece that was published in Momus and was shortlisted for a 2016 International Award for Art Criticism, a sharp and farcical review of Manifesta 11: What Artist and Curators Do for Money, which demonstrates a rare example of curatorial criticism. Their conversation ranges from sharpening the perfect retort to writing in bed, with Wetmore reflecting on the driving impulse to write this, her only published review to date: “Like, who’s making this? How much are they getting paid? What process are they using to get this done? How are you, the curator, and your artist, and your intellectual conceit, tied to the making of this work? Because isn’t that the essentially interesting part of the commissioning process? We’re there to be able to touch in some oblique way how this came to be. And if we want to pretend that it came to be out of thin air – as I find a lot of curators want to pretend – then I’m simply not interested. Because it’s not true.”

In the final episode of Season 3, which has been devoted to the question of “what’s changed, and what should?”, Sky Goodden speaks to The White Pube, a UK-based art-criticism collective comprised of Zarina Muhammad and Gabriella de la Puente. Across five years of publishing, The White Pube has been celebrated for its insistence on “embodied criticism” and “sticky subjectivity,” its resistance to the star-review system of popular art criticism, and its practice of DIY art-publishing as institutional critique. “We cannot ever write in a way that denies ourselves,” concludes Muhammed. Their recent feature “FUCK THE POLICE, FUCK THE STATE, FUCK THE TATE: RIOTS AND REFORM” demonstrates an increasingly unrelenting politic, as well.