Editor’s note: This review is by DJ Hellerman, curator of Art & Programs at the Everson Museum of Art in Syracuse, New York.
Introduction
[M]any of us know John Killacky as the executive director of the Flynn Center for the Performing Arts or as a frequent commentator on VPR, often using his relationship with his pony, Pacific Raindrop, to convey wise life lessons. A retrospective exhibition, currently on view at the Champlain College Art Gallery, is an opportunity to get to know yet another part of John — John the filmmaker, the actor, the dancer and the poet.
On several occasions during my time as curator at Burlington City Arts I had the privilege of working closely with John on several projects and I admired his leadership style and insightful thinking. Both directly and from a far, John has had a significant impact on me, my thinking about art, the world, and what a vital role arts institutions can have in a community.
John’s intelligence is deep, his sensitivity and passion for the arts is multifaceted.
Throughout his career, across the entire country, his work has been instrumental in many significant events that have become defining, historical moments of late 20th century American art and culture.
Since moving to Vermont in 2010, John has been well known publicly for his life as an arts administrator, a self-described “warrior for the arts using the public as his bully pulpit.” He has curated numerous exhibitions in the Amy E. Tarrant Gallery providing numerous under-recognized artists with an opportunity to show their work publicly – something that not only benefits the exhibiting artists, but the community as well.
I had the opportunity to view the exhibition at Champlain College and I would highly encourage everyone to set aside time to visit before it closes on Feb. 16.
The exhibition
The work presented in “Embodied Voice: Video Narratives” spans three decades. The gallery is curtained off, creating a darkened space. John’s voice, somberly reciting poetry, fills the gallery. For days following my visit, his voice, and his words continued to repeat in my head:
“In your ashen face, I see the faces of all those gone before.”
“You’ll be theirs…”
In the darkened space, there are three flat-screen monitors with headphones, installed on three separate walls, showing work organized into three categories: AIDS-related work from the 1990s, disability-related work from the 2000s, and recent video collaborations with Vermont artists Todd R. Lockwood and Art Bell. As the title of the show suggests, the exhibition is about personal narratives, the body, and voice. The exhibition unfolds subtly and builds into an overwhelming deluge of emotions.
“Unforgiven Fire, Stolen Shadows” and “Walking With The Dead” are strikingly deep, loving, elegies to close friends, lovers and communities torn apart by the AIDS pandemic. They are political, courageous and tender. The presence of John the dancer is front and center watching the poetic flow of naked bodies, the visceral dripping of blood across John’s forehead, and the beautifully haunting image of an empty bed, presumably once occupied by two lovers, receding across the screen.
This is a rare opportunity to view performance-based work made during, and in response to, the AIDS pandemic a significantly underrepresented narrative in the history of art, dance and music, especially considering its direct impact on the arts community.
“Dreaming Awake, Flow” and “Night Swimming” chronicle John’s experience dealing with unexpected complications during spinal surgery that left him paralyzed from the neck down. Images of acupuncture juxtaposed with hopes of being able to plié and pirouette accompany John’s words:
“I am afraid if I sit down, I will never get up again.”
“Only in the pool can I run with the ponies again.”
Having lived through the AIDS pandemic, an era when gay men’s bodies (and lives) were vilified, John’s abrupt experience of transforming from a highly athletic dancer and marathon runner to paraplegic is nearly incomprehensible.
“Crip Shots,” directed by John and his partner Larry Connolly, presents six video portraits of artists with disabilities. In a culture that worships the idealized Greek body type, beauty and youth, John works with artists to expand how we define an abled body and how we see disabled bodies.
The strength of character required to reconcile John’s accident is unbelievable and his ability to use his experience as an opportunity to shine a light on the lives of others exceeds the boundaries of art and approached something damn-near heroic.
Every human being has a story deserving of attention. The exhibition is a bold reminder that it is a privilege to speak and even more so to be heard.
In addition to meditations on the body and voice, the exhibition offers a potent opportunity to contemplate silence and consider unspoken words. The finite silence that accompanies death is nearly palpable in the gallery. Underlying the entire exhibition are tremors of the culturally imposed silence of what can’t be said or won’t be heard. And, what the show so profoundly alludes to, the haunting silence of what was never said.
Also, lurking quietly in the background of the exhibition are Reagan-era policies of the 1980s and ’90s that used AIDS divisively to insight homophobia. This history is in need of re-examining for lessons on how to combat institutional discrimination in the name of public health.
Conclusion
Art is a versatile thing. It can be shrewdly functional. It can embody complex truths. It can document, protest, memorialize and revise accepted histories. The work in “Embodied Voice: Video Narratives” accomplishes all of these. It is a necessary contribution to the history of art and civil rights that encourages us all to live a life that is more more attuned the needs of others.
With all exhibitions, some parts fade away while others take hold. For me, I can’t help from internalizing the words John recites to himself in “Night Swimming.” They loop in my mind as a mantra or a daily challenge to live better:
“Grasping for now, I pray for clear seeing, acceptance without judgment.”
Throughout John’s career, he has helped provide opportunities to countless artists, dancers, poets and arts administrators. This long-overdue exhibition finally gives John Killacky – the artist — the opportunity he deserves.
