We recently connected with Matt Kennedy and have shared our conversation below.
Matt, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. What’s something you believe that most people in your industry (or in general) disagree with?
As a curator and publisher, the biggest affront to the Gallery System is the perception that we are all just middlemen. There is a belief that galleries and possibly museums have become less necessary in the post social media era – in spite of how many influencers use galleries and museums as backdrops for their posts. But I think instead of pushing back, we need to do a better job of promoting the advantages to having representation (if not management), on behalf of the artist rather than the artist, themselves. Certainly an artist who has amassed an engaged following of several million may be confident that they can sell their own work, just as there are people who could successfully represent themselves in court and give themselves a good haircut, but the verifiable wisdom favors not doing those things. Any artists who have actually spent time filtering through messages and requests to try to determine earnest buyers from mere fans or set-up parameters and payment terms for commissions will appreciate having a filter between themselves and the public.
Even just in terms of being able to discuss one’s work and career in context is diminished by comparison of having an advocate. And that’s really what a curator is: a trusted advocate.
It is basically impossible for an artist to place their own work in museums, which requires working with a gallery that has those relationships in place. It is impossible for a value assessment without an appraisal –which in turn requires a sales record. And in order to establish an auction record, one must first establish a sales record. Galleries provide a record and a context that an artist can’t provide themselves. There are very few artists with auction potential that are talented enough as both artist and sales person that they can create good art and manage their own sales and career trajectory. Among those who can, there are few who can pack and ship their work without it getting ruined in transit. Fewer still who have the expendable time or required patience for dealing with such logistical mishaps.
Now take away those who haven’t burned a bridge or two in a decades-long career, and you are really down to a shortlist of unicorns. This is not to say that there isn’t some combination of those skills that can provide a comfortable existence, but a legacy requires an advocate –generally more than one.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
A lifelong consumption of media and an adolescent sleeping disorder made good bedfellows. I learned to read quite young and consumed whatever I could get my hands on. There were multiple televisions and sets of encyclopedia in my childhood home as well as a piano. As a seventies latchkey kid if I wasn’t reading, drawing or inches away from a cathode ray tube, I was either pounding the keys on that piano or on my bike exploring the woods and institutions of New England. I did a bit of college and drifted in and out of classes at Emerson and Salem State while working out a way to get to California. I was in a band and signed to a record deal before I turned 20 and released from that deal before I turned 21. Having worked in many a record and comic book shop back home, I did the same in Los Angeles. That would lead to set decorating an entire location featured in the film True Romance (for no screen credit), various performance and art gigs in Hollywood and at various institutions (and on billboards) around town, while getting a free, guerilla education at Art Center, Cal Arts, Caltech, UCLA, and USC – just by walking into classrooms and sitting down to learn. You probably cant do that now, but you certainly could back then. I got a job working for Billy Shire at La Luz de Jesus on Melrose and bartending nightly at the Cathouse. After getting pulled off register by Mel Brooks to perform in a commercial he was shooting down the street, I found myself doing a bit of acting, which led to a long career as a commercial actor and then to producing and licensing. I’ve been in either film production or the gallery business (or both) ever since.
If I had one word of advice for anyone, versatility would be it.
If you are interested in things you tend to want to learn about them, and while multiple, simultaneous interests run the risk of distracting rather than honing a skill set, there is something innately attractive about about multi-didacts. Talent is beauty, and the focus of my curating career for the last decade and a half has been providing a second artistic track for artists who are already well regarded in another discipline. Success is such a loaded term, but frequently successful people are good at more than just one thing, and they surround themselves with capable people.
The greatest success to me is community. I enjoy bringing people together through art, and I am a serial joiner of collectives. I’ve always dedicated time and exhibition space to emerging talent, frequently pairing students with late career artists or MFA professors with vernacular journeymen which encourages a whole new context for each.
Any stories or insights that might help us understand how you’ve built such a strong reputation?
As in Academia, most careers under the umbrella of Arts or Entertainment hold longevity in high esteem. Just by virtue of being there consistently year after year you accumulate a modicum of respect, but that isn’t the same as building a reputation. While not a perfect formula, I think it’s fair to say that reputation is a ratio of time plus achievement. Everyone fails, so being able to fall and rise again –and do so with panache, builds character.
I should add here that having character is more than just being a character. The current obsession with branding has instilled in too many content creators a respect for optics over substance. Success isn’t a brand; Integrity is a brand. Integrity and aesthetic together frequently breeds longterm success.
Among one’s peers, the perceived level of difficulty in pulling off a groundbreaking exhibition can (and often does) outweigh the importance (or lasting impact) of financial gain. That’s because money is a means to an end, not the actual end. A failed attempt can amass greater respect than a critical or fiscal reward if the goal was both great and difficult, It’s not enough to plan for success and prepare for failure, which I encourage everyone to get in the habit of doing. For me, I need to aim high –just beyond my ability, and fail as little as possible. If I allow myself to collect a few easy victories in between, I have achieved balance, which is the DNA of happiness.
By not paying a lot of attention to trends, I’ve developed a reputation for consistently breaking new ground and that has given me my own lane. If I don’t enjoy the work or spending time with the artist, or share a common need for bringing their exhibition to life, I just can’t dedicate the time to it. Which is funny because I’m also somewhat known for working well with artists who have been labeled “difficult.” There is no financial award large enough to convince me to work with an asshole, but helping someone to articulate their hither-to-fore, hard-to-achieve vision –even one with very little potential for financial reward– well, that seems more like a necessity than a decision to me.
Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?
Human beings have the longest adolescence of any living creatures. If you’ve ever seen a horse give birth, a foal goes from womb to walking in less than half-an-hour, and is completely independent in six months. I think we humans are more durable than we give ourselves credit. I was a small kid with an infinite appetite for knowledge. But at a certain point we discover limits. In most cases those limits are placed upon us. We get a bad teacher, or a bad coach. Some of us get a bad parent or two. Some of the greatest minds have caved to the peer pressure of mediocrity. That’s because we are rarely given the tools we need to overcome these limits. And many limits are arbitrary. They are the assumed inevitability of what is really a challenge to go further. Some challenges are hard, and most will remain undefeated in your lifetime, but you have to unlearn that notion that things are impossible. And you have to do that while you are young and before too many limits have been placed upon you; before you become too amenable to giving up. But you can’t do it all on your own.
Art is a reflection of life, and you can’t make great art if you don’t have a deep understanding of what it means to be alive. Even art by misanthropes reflects at least a moment’s appreciation for joy. Perhaps in exile, and sometimes from spite, but always a yearning for joy. That’s why truly great art inspires us –not toward a power greater than ourselves, but toward the belief that the greater power is within us. And around us. It can be an episodic motion picture narrative or a melody or a dot on a virtual canvas. Truth, like water, seeks its own level and we humans are hardwired to look for it.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.gallery30south.com
- Instagram: @gallery30south
- Twitter: @gallery30south
- Other: https://www.popsequentialism.com https://www.panikcollective.com
Image Credits
©2023 Panik Collective