Re: Our collaboration

Written by Yul Cho

Dear Ifra,

I’ve been meaning to dedicate some time to write to you about this journey we’ve been on together as close-enough, because honestly, it’s been quite a ride.

Thinking back on how our collaboration began, it’s clear that our decision to team up on this project was born out of shared frustration that had been building within us. It bugged us for a while how exclusive the art world in Sweden felt. Stepping into the roles of independent curators for our M.A. graduation project, we had a clear mission: to confront this issue head-on. However, let’s be real – it wasn’t just about taking on this big problem. It was also about having a collaborator, someone to share the journey with. After all, curating can be a bit like an exploration of the unknown, and who wants to face it alone, right?

You and I, we chatted, ranted, brainstormed, and dreamed together, all with one goal in mind: to make art approachable to people, something they could easily embrace in their lives. It was during these conversations that we came up with the name close-enough, a playful yet profound nod to the hesitancy many people have about getting too close to art, as if there exists an invisible line we’re not supposed to cross. It also spoke to the way museums and institutions sometimes keep their audiences at bay. As we tossed ideas around for close-enough, our main focus was to organize outreach workshops, and our compass consistently pointed to Marabouparken. 

That park and its sculptures held personal significance for me. Years ago, I was learning Swedish at Långholmens Folkhögskola, which is located right next to Marabouparken. During my time there, I noticed that there wasn’t much interaction between the two institutions. However, there was this one time when my class was taken on a guided tour of the sculpture park by the Konsthall. Sadly, it turned out to be quite an uncomfortable experience. The tour was in fast and complex Swedish, which made it tough for me and my classmates, especially those not familiar with art, to follow along. 

So, we decided to revisit my experience together, and our project aimed to turn Marabouparken into a place where diverse groups of people could experience art in their own unique ways. We didn’t stop at planning workshops with Emma Dominguez; we also ventured into manifesto writing, had some interesting discussions, and conducted an exploratory survey and research which focusedfocuses on addressing segregation in the Swedish art world. None of it would have been possible without our partnership.

As we dove into this project, I learned that curating is an ongoing journey. It’s a fusion of everything; anticipation, decision-making, and trying out new ideas while sharing our creative thoughts. So, when did this journey even start, and when does it truly end? Honestly, it feels like a never-ending process, one that starts long before a project takes shape and continues long after it’s over. Maybe this letter is my way of trying to mark the end of our first chapter with close-enough because sometimes, in the midst of curating, it’s tough to see what we’ve accomplished.

I think that curatorial work isn’t just about what happens within the four walls of a gallery or in the pages of a fancy curatorial statement. It goes way beyond that, into the hearts and minds of those who experience the art. It’s about igniting curiosity, challenging perspectives, and sparking conversations that ripple through time.

Now, here we are, both of us having graduated. I’m filled with a mix of hope for our future as young curators and a deep understanding of the challenges we’re up against. It’s no secret that the art world doesn’t offer much of a safety net for emerging curators like us. We’re navigating a complex and challenging landscape where our curatorial aspirations sometimes clash with the need for stability. It’s all too easy to arrive at a crossroad, where practical constraints can overshadow our creative ambitions. In these moments, it’s crucial not to forget the transformative power of curating. As curators, we hold an incredible responsibility to shape our cultural landscape and influence how people perceive and experience the world.

I genuinely believe that the challenges we’re up against as young curators point to the urgent need for a shift in the art world. Our dedication to art should be celebrated, not undervalued or taken for granted. Rather than accepting the status quo, these challenges should be viewed as a compelling call for transformation. Our journey has just begun, and while it’s filled with question marks, I am grateful to have you as my partner in this endeavor. As we take our next steps, let’s keep the spirit of close-enough alive in our hearts and continue to bring art closer to people’s lives. 

So, Ifra, please understand that this letter isn’t just a reflection; it’s a promise. It’s a tribute to the remarkable journey we’ve been embarking on together. I want you to understand that I’m here, not just as a collaborator but as a friend, to offer support, encouragement, and friendship whenever you need it.

Warm regards,

Yul