Four upcoming female artists came together for a terrace debut of their work in a collective exhibition last week called Dream Central.
The group was brought together through a newly certified cultural association called Makan (@makan_al_hummus), meaning "place" in Arabic, which has been organizing exciting events across Rome, providing culinary arts to clothing drives, exhibitions, jam sessions, and yoga retreats. Their incredibly artistic presentation of food was a most notable place for guests to gather, featuring simple, colorful dishes that gleamed in the sunshine.
Atop the city, on a warm, summer evening, guests trickled in starting at 18:00. Curating this exhibition meant making due with what was available to us --displaying works on the fences and walls of the terrace. With added rugs and cushions on the floor, the display added a home-y, bohemian feel to the space, inviting viewers to get up close and personal with the art, its artists, and other visitors.
The four artists, Kass (@kasshiew), Eleonore (@eleonore.sclav), Nat (@natalie.hasan_), and myself, all brought forth a unique meaning to the verb of the evening: to dream.
The first artist, or dreamer, I'd like to discuss is Eleonore. I think her works can be best described as abstract dreamscapes, combining landscapes with vibrant color, rythm and texture. Like finding shapes in the clouds, each passerby was encouraged to explore the works with childlike curiosity. Eleonore was often found guiding the guests through her own interpretation of the pieces, but my favorite aspect of her work was the ability for each person to find something personal within the lines and shapes Eleonore so gracefully displayed in 5 outstanding pieces.
My own works contributed to the nostalgia that arises when we dream of youth. Their larger-than-life size allowed for the open space to be opened once more, in the realm of distant memory. (Now, I am here to brag about the others, so please read more about my works here if you are interested).
Also confronting the idea of memory was a piece titled Dimmed, in which Kass used a multimedia approach to create an enticing, hunched figure in a dystopian space, splattered with journal excerpts detailing the artist's difficulty confronting memories of domestic violence. Kass opened up adamantly to each passerby, and genuinely encouraged a space for healing, empathy, and friendship. In her artist statement, she writes:
"The sun will rise again. One day it all might just feel like a distant dream."
As the sun set, and just when I thought the night couldn't have been a greater success, artist and co-curator, Nat, moved to display her media work, "Where Do Dreams Go When They Die?" In a statement made before hitting play, Nat described the inspiration behind her work:
As we are born, [...] we develop a lot of dreams and then we enter our teenage years and adulthood, and sometimes we find these dreams not having a space to flourish and come to existence, so what do we do with them?
The energy of the space so quickly shifted from its lively nature --everyone hushed and gathered, intently listening to the journal-like reflections that voiced Nat's work. Again, we entered a place of intimacy and inspiration. On screen, Nat is seen moving and contorting her body in augmented speeds. The pinkish color overwhelmed the large wall it was projected on, again creating a larger-than-life feeling in the space, which was an important key to the expo. In several points of the piece, Nat points towards a collective dream, and indeed, it was an incredible way to conclude the evening and testify to the show's intention.
To conclude, we followed Nat's guidance into a group meditation. Having just watched her work, the crowd sat in a circle, hand in hand and eyes closed, and in the sounds of the evening and meditation music, we shared a moment of silence and deep reflection.
So what does it mean, to dream?
Based on the contributions to this holistic exhibition experience, I think it is simple to deduce three things about our dreams and aspirations.
Fight the battle between past and present.
Under the constraints of time, we are constantly pulling upon memory to guide us through our present reality. While it is important to do so --we can find inspiration in Eleonore's work here --it is also crucial to take time to interpret things abstractly from time to time. Take "dare to dream" very seriously!
Dreams have healing power.
Take Kass' work as an example. When we make an effort to share, we not only open up our horizons to something beyond the painful experiences of our past, but we also allow others to be inspired by our vulnerability. Your glimmer of hope may be someone else's fuel to dream.
The bigger picture is the collective.
When time passes, we grow old, and our dreams diminish from their once vibrant state, it's important to remember that their death is a part of the process for rebirth. Luckily, we can often find solace and inspiration in the collective experience that can only be defined as human.
Stay creative, my friends.
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