I became so grumpy and overwhelmed with my latest experience of curating and organizing a large group exhibition that I felt the need to explore my feelings.

As an artist it's just supposed to be my job to paint, n'est pas?  Other specialists who are trained to curate, promote and sell are supposed to be handling the rest.  Yet so many of us in the lesser known or marginal world of the arts, particularly women, people of color, activist and alternative thinking people, find ourselves doing everything to keep the arts alive.  It's not just about getting our own work out there although that's a primary and valid concern for any artist. Some of us have stepped into multi-tasking leadership roles that put us in some conflict with our sense of what we are supposed to be focusing on as an "artist."

Ever since beginning my own art on female aging, I've sought dialogue and connection with other women to navigate the terrain.  I'm now part of a Crone Show task force that is about celebrating elder vision and creativity, combating stereotyping and moving what we do out into the community. To date we have manifested two San Diego exhibitions about aging women, by aging women--CRONE SHOW: THE OLD, THE BOLD, THE BEAUTIFUL (October, 2000) and CRONE SHOW II: THE FULL CIRCLE (July 17-Sept 15, 2001). The chief curatorial and organizational role for these shows keeps landing in my lap because we have not found any "real" curator who cares enough to take on this edgy topic. The issues our exhibitions have raised are primarily ignored by fine arts venues.

Here's the press release description of our latest adventure:

Crone Show II is being held at the San Diego Children’s Museum/Museo de los Niños in order for women in their wisdom years to help children to see the face of their future in the great circle of life.  We invite all generations to see the natural process of aging as a journey into ever expanding awareness. The word “crone” comes from “crown”.  It signifies those who have lived long and fruitful lives.  It celebrates women transforming into wise and wild authorities on the nature of the human experience the creative capable inspirational female elders in our society. Crones are often the culture bearers, teachers and transmitters of the arts as well as the inspiration for generations beyond their life cycle.

The exhibition showcases individual San Diego Artists along with work done in Helen Redman's “Birthing the Crone” Workshops on Creativity and Aging. Painters, poets, fabric artists, photographers, sculptors, performance and assemblage artists have combined their talents as artists and community women to share a multigenerational, multiethnic vision.  Workshops will be presented throughout the duration of the exhibition and children’s work will be added to the walls as the event proceeds.

That's a whopper of a project to have taken on for the breadth of the concept alone. Our small task force soon discovered we were in a collaborative process with an under funded Childrens' Museum that was undergoing crisis regarding its space and future, with only a few months to orchestrate this large an event. Regardless--we dove in with idealism and delight regarding the potential of the colorful, mobile, imaginative, warehouse space of the Children's Museum.

We had been looking for a spot for Crone Show II and the staff at Children's were looking for a Muse. Crone and Muse morphed into one another and we saw the "out of the box" possibilities for collaboration. We all had some misgivings that we could accomplish our goals in such a short time, that the space was too noisy and child wild for the art and that exhibiting there might dig us deeper into the grandmother stereotype. As we entered the creative chaos of the space we faced problems and restrictions different from most adult fine arts settings. But, overall, something special and magical came about as crone world and child world collided.

In the process, I lost a close friend, African American artist C'Love died just days after bringing her Women of Song quilts to the exhibition--reminding us of the urgency of celebrating each other while we are still here. My own personal multi-tasking intensified as my daughter and grandchildren came to stay with me just as we were trying to get through all the final details of curating, hanging, labeling, promoting, etc.  The task force kept shrinking and non stop crises encircled the Museum and its small staff.

Soon I was losing my civility and my mind.  Filling in for those who didn't carry through with their allotted tasks while attending to a multiplicity of curatorial and promotional details,  I just wanted to return to being an artist and a "nice" person again.  Also, it was hard for me to go from the nurturing space of being a workshop facilitator emphasizing self expression to the judgment loaded process of designing an exhibition with former students.

But artists' eyes are so valuable for curating...

There is a passion and a vision that we possess as artists that enables us to take risks, to make connections that no one else might ever make and to go way out there with what we do. My palette become the varigated work of other people's art and my task to articulate the concept as a whole. The space itself was like a giant three dimensional canvas that flowed in all directions. I would wake up at night seeing just where I would place an artist's work. Once in the space, we kept moving pieces about just as I do in my collage art, to get the final layout.

Of course, you lose your own art making time and your ego has to surrender. As artists we are often in a world unto ourselves.  When we exhibit, many of us have specific needs regarding how our work must be presented. In a group show we are always comparing our work to some one else's, who is getting the best spot, the amount of pieces each artist gets to show, the media attention, etc.  Yet to curate a large group exhibition, you have to compose and arrange like a conductor.

 At times, the artist in me was screaming as I had to listen to demands and complaints from others (30 adults and 30 children had work in this show). "Hey, me too, I'm an artist, not your waitperson and to boot I'm volunteering my time to make this happen for you!"

Ideological issues rankled within the crone group.  From the beginning there were concerns that being at the Children's Museum was not a good idea as it put us smack into the grandmother box. That sentimental, unthreatening image (that society propagates to cover all old women, whether they want the role or not) is often the only one children see. Through art and spoken word, we wanted to present the old woman as powerful, vital, and involved in her own life and projects, a complete person in her own right.

I was curating to show intelligence, creativity, fierceness, self discovery, inner spirit and beauty, but also to playfully mirror the context of the Children's Museum. And one of my rewards was sharing this exhibition with my daughter and grandchildren.

I was continually dealing with polarities and the wild space in which they meet, trying to surrender to what I had no control over and trust that the outcome would align with our intentions. After undertaking such a venture, there is a great need for emptying out and letting go.  I'm trying to allow myself that space before diving into whatever will fill me again.

For further information visit:sdchildrensmuseum.org/events/crones