For the biennale, Tenthaus practices a gathering methodology. The intention is to begin from the practices of the artists they invite and to work from there, then coming together to find the common threads of connection. This practice expands throughout the collective’s ecosystem, both locally and internationally, to include artists, designers, editors, newspapers, artist-run galleries, international biennales, and local schools to share a variety of art projects over the course of the biennale. Through this process, MOMENTUM 12: Together as to gather explores what intuitively comes out of gathering people, places and times.
The gathering process remains a complex conjunction of time and space and circumstances. It feels like a rollercoaster ride, with unexpected shifts and turns, the speed goes up and it slows down too. Our Monday meetings were at the core of our collective collaboration: sharing spaces, deep and trivial conversations, food and coffee. It was about being together, and understandably so, after the extreme disruption to togetherness due to the COVID-19 pandemic. At some point, the tasks at hand transformed our circumstances and those of curating MOMENTUM 12. In a way, things gained complexity, and resisting the force of entropy took effort.
[ . . . ]
The kind of gathering they seek in Together as to gather is not to be confused with the current practice of inclusivity. Inclusion, as it is utilized now, seems to be part of that paradigm of (often imperial) expansion – where an institution seeks to absorb and incorporate what it includes. It’s a model of infinite growth, economic and otherwise, for the dominant culture. This gathering – MOMENTUM 12 – is a momentary assembly. It is, in a way, the togetherness. The thing we seek. It is not the institution or the biennale. It ends as soon as one leaves, even if one carries traces of the experience away. To gather is the verb and together is the subject. We, together, do the gathering. Togetherness doesn’t mean agreement. It means acceptance, trust, and space to try and fail. And failure is, to an improviser, a real treasure.