Emme PretoriusWe’re sitting in AARC, the African Art Resource Centre, and I think it’s quite fitting that we’re here amongst all these beautiful books, coming together as curatorial and publishing departments. From curatorial we have Nathalie and Bulelwa, and from publishing we have Buhle and myself. We’ve come together to discuss the paracuratorial under the framework of ‘Curating in the Otherwise’. Within this conversation we’ll think around the paracuratorial as a concept, theory and practice. It forms part of the upcoming, and very exciting, Koyo Kouoh Atelier titled IMPRINT. While it underpins the thinking around this whole exhibition, it also underpins the inner workings of the Museum. To start, I think we should all elaborate on how we would define the paracuratorial.

Nathalie VirulyWhen we talk about the paracuratorial, I think, ‘How do we get to the paracuratorial?’ There are a couple of steps we need to talk about before we get there. For me, it starts with the root word of ‘curating’. Often when we talk about curating, it’s about care. I think curating really happens outside the art world. People curate playlists, people curate Pinterest, and many other daily things. Curating is really an organising principle that we use and that often comes through in exhibitions when we put it in the art world. If we have curating, then we also have the curatorial. For me, the curatorial has always been the practice of making exhibitions, putting together information and doing the research. It’s very open-ended and very research heavy. It’s a lot of quiet work that curators do, a lot of thinking work. Then, we add ‘para’ to it. When we first started working on this project, we were thinking about how ‘para’ comes from ‘parallel’. So, ‘paracuratorial’ really speaks to the happenings alongside an exhibition. It’s publication, public programming, education, and all these other events that sit in one constellation. What I really like about ‘para’ is the political potential it has. It also makes us criticise the work we do ourselves, and the objects and hierarchies we create between things. ‘Para’ is ‘parallel’, but it’s also ‘parasitic’ and it’s how we depend on and how we tie the other bits to the spectacle of an exhibition. And how, maybe, the exhibition is not the most important [aspect], maybe it needs to come down from its high horse.

EPI like that you mentioned the constellation, because when I think about the paracuratorial, it’s a thinking around things in a network versus thinking about something as being central. It’s thinking about everything that goes into it that forms part of this thinking. Like you said, the invisible work that, in the paracuratorial, is not even just parallel, but it becomes a network.

Buhle-Bethu QatyanaI like your imagery around a constellation. But, obviously around the idea of paracuratorial, and speaking specifically to publishing, it’s something that is very much [in] parallel . You often think of a hierarchy, that there’s curating and the things that happen alongside it sit below it. But, that’s really not the case at all. It’s a constellation where everything is the centre of the universe. Everything is at an equal level. All of it is the centre.

Bulelwa KuneneFrom what you’ve all said, and something I’ve been thinking about in terms of the paracuratorial is relationships. In curating, and the curatorial, relationships are really important. I don’t think they’re in the hierarchy with exhibition as the apex. I don’t know that we place the relationships and the networks that facilitate this spectacle that is the culmination of it all as centralised. When I think of the paracuratorial, I really think of conversations, relationships, studio visits. Even within all these other aspects—the education, the didactics or the editorial—are these heavily relational details that people don’t see. Sometimes, in my research work when we’re writing for an exhibition, there have been moments when I’ve wanted to pull directly from a conversation and just put that on the wall because I feel like that could explain it all. But it can’t really happen that way. The way that we think about the curatorial doesn’t always facilitate that kind of work. I think that’s what’s exciting about the paracuratorial.

BQAnd in what you mentioned around the studio visits that the curators do with the artists, there’s also that tour element that is part of it.

NVOften, we think that it’s the other objects ... like the book. Those aspects are very important, but maybe it’s also about the quiet work that you maybe don’t think would matter. Like the title for the exhibition, IMPRINT, it’s small things that can completely change the trajectory of a project. Everything has its own moment and sits quite horizontally. That’s quite cool.

BQIt all has its own gravity.

NVAnd it’s all pulling towards each other.

EPThinking around that, what is most visible to audiences at the museum regarding the paracuratorial?

BQObviously, the artwork is the main part, but one thing that I’ve been thinking about outside of my own departmental area is the installation design. The artwork, yes, but also how it’s put together, how it’s arranged, and how it lives.

NVTo that point, I think ‘visible’ is an interesting word because a lot of the paracuratorial is experienced. There are a lot of other sensory modes. We often think that research can only be read, but there’s a lot more that goes into it. For example, it is the design and creating atmospheres or the tours. What better way to understand an exhibition than to be with somebody who has sat with it for its various iterations? We see exhibitions change titles and we see all this background information. To actually have a tour from someone who has seen it through its various stages is also quite interesting. The auditory is experienced. Our education team also does an amazing job in interpreting the exhibition on different levels for people to experience it. So, I don’t know how much of it is visible, but a lot of it is communicated in other forms.

EPThere’s this idea of ‘visible’ versus ‘being perceived as being visible’ that comes up that begs the question: why should we care about the paracuratorial? It’s an underlying and pressing question. It seems like this abstract concept, but it actually lives in practice within the Museum. Why should we care about it, as a museum, but also as the public?

BKConnecting to the previous question, your point on perceived visibility and why we should care as an institution, I think that we attempt to also expose all these other aspects of the exhibition through programming. One of the reasons why we should care is that we need to think about programming. Sometimes we think about programming as this thing that happens after the exhibition. Perhaps, the opportunity for caring about the paracuratorial and thinking about it beyond perception, and rather as a practice, can allow us to reconsider how we approach programming. There’s room there to find ways to complicate how we exhibit and not find ourselves falling into the same formulae.

BQIn terms of discussing what is visible, what is invisible and why we should care about it, the main thing that we can all agree on is that the artwork, the programming and everything that’s in the spotlight is the most visible. Obviously, people care about it because that’s what the institution is. There is great consideration in terms of everything that is visible and ‘monumental’, and what makes up the main workings, yet it’s built up by an immense number of things. The reason why people should care is that the one object, the final product, is built up by so many layers, so much work. It’s almost impossible to not zoom in and see all the particles that make up that final product. I think if you’re a person that cares about institutions or culture, it’s almost unavoidable. You can’t not, at some point, conceive of or consider all the smaller aspects. The invisible work. Often, when I’m in a museum looking at something awe-inspiring, there’s always a moment where I wonder what it took to get to this. What must that [team] have done?

EPIt’s the process.

BQExactly. It might not be the things that are at the fore. I’m not going into the museum thinking, ‘I want to see what the process is’, but it’s a secondary thought that lives there. I think it’s always at the back of our minds and that’s why it’s important. There’s no way around it.

NVTo that point, when I was starting out, getting into the arts, I thought there were three jobs in the art world: artist, curator and art historian. What you’re speaking to is really interesting because there’s this demystification that happens when you start to state that an exhibition doesn’t just arrive. It’s a feat of logistical ingenuity. It’s insane sometimes when you think about what has had to come together. Part of why we should care about it is that it breaks down barriers to access, to contributing, to museums. You don’t have to be this art historian who studied in a basement for ten years to be able to come and participate. What you know is matched in the space. Logistics is an art form. Life and art are working together so publics are a lot more welcome to come to a museum. Curating is a very lonely process. There’s a lot of work we do in our minds, and we sit with things for a very long time. I’ve said before, sometimes as curators ‘We shouldn’t inhibit, we should exhibit’. It’s that idea of making this look possible to people,and wanting people to be part of what we do, [dispelling] this gate-kept ivory tower stuff. Curating can be a text, it can be a song, or a dance.

EPIt’s what we always say about taking the work outside of the museum walls. Not containing it to one space. How do we connect, how do we make everything visible. It almost humanises the institution. You can come into the museum and think ‘How does this all work?’ You can think ‘this is all high-curatorial work’, but if you show the inner-workings and the processes, it becomes human. It becomes relatable.

BKI’m curious about what our audience who is well-versed with institutions and art, or live their lives in the art ecosystem, have to say about the paracuratorial at Zeitz MOCAA. I think the gesture of the Atelier is great because it is an attempt to connect the Museum’s work to the city. That’s the thing that also interests me about the paracuratorial. Over and above access, it’s also about connection and forging stronger bonds in a community.

BQ Maybe because we don’t often name it, we don’t label a lot of things as the paracuratorial, there’s a risk that we don’t push it or think too much about it. This might be an area where we know something is not as recognised or as big, therefore it is inherently downplayed because we’re not putting a name to it. I’ve probably been aware of the paracuratorial before I even knew what it was. You come into an institution like Zeitz MOCAA where we have the BMW CFAE (Centre for Arts Education), public programming, publications and wall texts and you can see the paracuratorial. You are aware of it, but because there’s no label or name given to it, it’s difficult to then appreciate it for what it is. But it’s there all the time. It always exists in the space.

EPThinking about what is most visible and how we can make the paracuratorial more visible; that’s what makes the Atelier such an incredible residency. It makes these processes visible. I’ve always been so interested in the processes that go into something and making it visible. It’s such a big part, not only of artistic practice, but also curating, publishing or anything we do, especially as a museum. That’s why I’m also so excited for IMPRINT. It’s connecting all those things and making the processes visible. Visitors are able to witness the inner-workings as it happens, in real time.

NVWhat’s been particularly difficult for me working on IMPRINT, is knowing that you come into the space and it’s not finished. It’s not the final product. That’s been quite strange. If you think about an exhibition as a question, often the paracuratorial is supposed to give the answer. We have to give the question and the answer. That’s what a typical exhibition does. What’s interesting with the Atelier, is that there are questions, but we don’t have answers. We’re still going to see. I’ve had to fight with myself in some ways to accept that the public has a legitimate answer to all of this. We’re putting the trust outside of ourselves. Even though we have all this research and information, we’re not saying that it’s the only legitimising force. We’re saying, ‘Come speak to us about it and tell us that we’re wrong’. We’re not in an echo chamber; we’re not doing that call and response to ourselves. We’re okay with the fact that we don’t know and that it’s partially formed and it will unfold.

BQThe word you used was ‘trust’. We’re trusting the audience to come in and participate in good faith. And to your point, we’re not just shouting at them or broadcasting. I see it more as a podcast rather than a radio emission. You’re not tuning into the radio to get your answers. There’s an invitation to participate, to say your peace and have an opportunity to produce the meaning yourself from what IMPRINT is offering. There’s a real vulnerability and a beauty around that trust in participation.

EP Buhle, as Managing Editor, in the publishing and editorial processes that we do, can you elaborate on the editorial that forms part of curatorial outputs but might be seen as the parallel. Living on the supposed periphery while it’s as important.

BQThere’s this default to step into an institution like this and be overwhelmed by all the things that are visible and highlighted. Then, you get into the publishing, editorial and all the copy and text nitty-gritty. It’s intimidating, honestly, being in the background or being the thing that’s behind the curtain. I think what’s important in terms of publishing is knowing that the job is equally as important. That gravity is distributed equally. There’s the wall text, the various publications, the research and the conversations that happen with the artists that all come together to build the final product. You can walk through a gallery space in one minute and never realise that 365 days of effort went into it. I can’t speak enough about the beauty in that minutia of having access to the process. Having access to all the little bits of information that work together to build this massive thing. As a person that’s working pretty intently with developing the department and that aspect of the paracuratorial in the editorial, I want to have the team, curators, artists and the public share that interest and get an insight into the little things that build the grand production. If I were to speak specifically just to publishing, obviously we’ve got our publications and the essays and broader copy that go into the publications, but there’s also the conversations and the interviews—the back-and-forth, whether via email or an artist having a [getting-to-know-me] session with the team, speaking about their story and getting into very random topics they’re interested in. To be able to pick up on all those little things and then shapes them into the art is phenomenal.

EPThat brings to light not only the conversations we have with artists, but also with each other. That’s something that I wish the public could have access to in paracuratorial practice. Going for a coffee break outside of the office and then you end up talking about a concept, delving deep into it and getting passionate about it. From that, something else then also forms in the work we do. That’s also part of the process. What do you all wish the public had more access to in thinking around the paracuratorial?

NVI’ve had this dream of collecting failures. I saw a museum of failures in Norway or somewhere. What I think is quite interesting is that we often show the best. We want to show everything that’s gone right, but there’s also something quite interesting about the things that have gone wrong because a lot changes along the way. I don’t know what that would look like. I don’t know if it’s a string of drafts and how they’ve changed over time, but there’s something quite interesting to me about the failures. At an institution, there’s an idea that everything is polished and of a certain standard. It’s incredible and something worth striving towards, but I also think there’s so much in it that’s been heartbreaks. We’ve killed a hundred darlings, we’ve lost this and lost that. We’ve had to reconfigure. Those processes around loss are very entangled with the process of art, making art, and even writing. I don’t know what a failure looks like necessarily, maybe a misprint or a typo.

BQIt’s interesting that you used the word failure because my answer to the question would be process. What you call failure is perhaps iteration. It’s not so much a failure, it’s just one of the drafts. One of the versions before we get to the final product. Though I do think ‘failure’ produces a beautiful imagery around what is essentially the process. That’s the one thing that I also wish the public had access to. We’re working towards that, right? That’s the goal: to share as much of the process and those iterations as we can.

EPThat’s why we’re sitting here today.

BKI would say materials. Those things that we amass in the process. It points to all the different people we work with that facilitate all the other work. The number of times I’ve gone to Emme or Buhle’s desks to touch some materials and samples! Or gone to the production office to see all the things that Julia (Exhibitions Manager) works with. People come and there’s a finished thing, but that process in the materials is also really interesting. Something I’ve also become interested in is gathering, people coming together. There’s a very temporal fixedness to people coming together for an exhibition opening, for instance. We need to facilitate more gathering, more people, around the thing and each other.

EPI think this is a good start to doing more of that.

NVI think the publishing department, you guys are so hardcore because my medium is exhibition and I can change things or take something off a wall. It’s also temporal in a sense. We can make slight changes. But when it goes to print, it goes to print. Like Buhle said, somebody only walks through a gallery for maybe five or ten minutes, but somebody has to sit with a book for a couple of hours, days, or months. There’s a really beautiful commitment that happens with print. It is what it is, and people have to take it home with them. They have to sit and really commit to it. That extends the timelines of any exhibition. If we are talking about being in service to an exhibition, there is something really beautiful happening in the two timelines. There’s a walkthrough and then there’s the, ‘You’re going to have to sit. You’re going to have to buckle-up and sit with the material long-term and come up with something for yourself’. Maybe in an exhibition, people get distracted and there are a whole lot of attention economies going on, but a book is a really important object and part of the work.

BQYour mention of the two parallel timelines happening sparks something in my head. In terms of paracuratorial, we’ve got the final product that’s in front of us and we’ve got all the parallels. But it also feels like there’s the before and then there’s the after. Your point about the parallel timelines really makes me think that, yes, a lot goes into producing a finished product, but there’s also the going home and the sitting with what you’ve just seen. The material you’ve collected. Sitting with that, processing it and making meaning out of that, sharing it and using it beyond that middle moment as a reference. There’s a long tail, but the tail never really ends. It gets thinner, but it keeps going.

EPThis imagery of the tail running along is what we’re also thinking around for this online publication platform in the title Everything but the Exhibition. It looks at everything before, everything during, and everything after. I hope this has a really long afterlife and that it sits with people. I hope that we can continue thinking about exhibitions and exhibition-making in a paracuratorial manner.