“Francisca Caporali, artist and manager at independent space JA.CA raises a few questions on the participation of women in artist-in-residence projects based on her experience as part of the jury for such projects throughout the country, and points us towards the differences in the amount of artists from each gender that make the cut, shining light on possible causes for such discrepancy. Francisca also talks about managing independent spaces and the problems in reconciling her career with motherhood, bringing in her own personal life experiences – not only in Brazil but also abroad, where much of her multidisciplinary education took place. She also notes the troubles Brazilian universities seem to have in adapting a more flexible structure.” – Lilian Maus
ISABEL WAQUIL – How do you divide your time between being a manager, artist, teacher and a mother?
FRANCISCA CAPORALI – All these things work together organically and are very much mixed together, but I try to organize everything in different shifts. I stay with my son Gabriel and at the Guignard School in the mornings, and in the afternoons I am at JA.CA. At night I am divide my time between Gabriel and Guignard again. JA.CA actually permeates everything I do, because if I get an e-mail I will reply to it, if the phone rings I will answer, we have meeting and so on. There are institutional tasks that know no breaks – at midnight, on a Sunday, on a Saturday, whenever it is. Guignard is the activity that I can keep organized the most due to its own nature, as teaching requires planning, and then the other two – JA.CA and being a mother – end up being constantly improvised. Professionally speaking, JA.CA is my priority and teaching happens at the times when there’s less happening there. I started teaching at Guignard after JA.CA had already opened, I came back to Brazil to get this project started so it’s only natural for that to be a priority. Gabriel is a part of all that, he goes to JA.CA and he knows the school very well, he likes being around the residents and he talks about the project as if it’s something very close to him.
When I started at Guignard I was hoping they would mix in a bit more. Throughout the years I realized the academic world is still too restricted to allow itself to mix in with anything. Unfortunately they are still way behind when it comes to understanding how students and the University could benefit from getting involved with a project like JA.CA. There’s also a very long bureaucratic process in the academic world that I fear a bit: gradings, reports and curriculums, I still don’t have a properly formatted curriculum, that just makes me panic. There was a time when I felt a bit stifled at the school, I was disappointed at how strict things were so I stopped insisting on this idea of combining both things. They are never completely separated though – my experiences at JA.CA end up feeding my classes and the students benefit from that. I take JA.CA residents to the classes and I always teach at least one class at JA.CA, which is something the students usually request themselves so they can see how things work.
Did that lack of integration disappoint you?
JA.CA has partnerships with other schools, something that had already happened before I started teaching at Guignard, so I thought it would happen naturally. Guignard is a school and doesn’t have enough space for a studio or workshops, and they also have little room for the art that happens out in the streets, that involves other people and requires more time than the studio. At the same time, Guignard is great when it comes to hosting talks, book releases and exhibitions. We are always welcome to host events there and it’s guaranteed to reach a wider audience that way because the students are very interested in it and the teachers are always willing to be a part of it. There’s still a lack of understanding when it comes to integrating my roles as a teacher and as a manager at JA.CA. I was once told I should keep things separated, “This is JA.CA, this is the school”. So I said “Alright, everything is separated then”. That to me is a big loss, because if JA.CA and the school were closer my dedication to teaching would no longer be restricted to the hours I spend at school, because I could have students here all the time.
Is that a bit limiting?
Yes. But I can see why they don’t understand it so I didn’t go very far in trying to convince them otherwise. It’s a time when they are reanalyzing this course and they haven’t yet visualized all the possibilities of what it could be. Right now the students can teach painting, or drawing, while there are so many other possibilities for extension programs.
How was your experience in the United States and in Spain, where you were also involved with the academic world?
The master’s program in Spain was disappointing. I think Spain found this niche in the market of offering master’s degrees to Latin Americans, and I had very high expectations but ended up disappointed. It kickstarted a frustration that later on became something interesting for me: the issue of art and technology. That was back in 2002. What were the issues with art and technology at the time? We weren’t critical enough of it because everything was just starting, it was all too dazzling. I tried to spark some criticism because having already graduated in Media Studies I came from a background that was already criticizing television and mass media. It was all very complicated and the master’s program didn’t help me fully articulate my thoughts on that. Perhaps also because of the time – everything was just getting started.
There was, however, a certain general fascination of technology and I was not interested in that at all. Once I was done with my master’s I went back to New York.
You were living in New York before that?
I had been living in New York for a year before taking my master’s program. I was doing internships, and working with cinema more than art. I was always a bit dyslexic in the sense of doing lots of things and having many interests. I was a dancer for many years, then I was obsessed with photography, then video, and then programming after the master’s in Barcelona. In college I was more interested in cinema, but soon realized I was not completely fulfilled by that. Video was a research that lasted for a longer time. In Brazil, while I was in college, videoart was completely segregated from contemporary art, so it was important to be in other places where I could see these frontiers fading away, even though they are still very visible here in Brazil – art, architecture, urbanism, design and so on.
I had many interests but nowhere I could indulge in all of them together, I always felt like I had choose between one or the other. I was lucky to study at the Federal University of Minas Gerais at a time when they allowed a certain flexibility in the Media Studies curriculum, so I could take classes in other places even though it was still a bit precarious. You had to convince the Anthropology teacher that you could take the class without being left behind, that you wouldn’t be too different from the other students. That’s how things worked. So I could experience a cross-curricular university, but it was rather precarious and I ended up taking a lot of classes at the Institute of Arts – I even presented my thesis there.
New York was particularly important when it comes accepting and recognizing the power of being so dispersed, because in the United States moving across different fields is seen as a positive thing. When I went back to New York after being in Barcelona I wanted to take a new master’s program because I felt like I had grown a lot. My master’s at Hunter College – CUNY was very cross-curricular, with the students coming from diverse backgrounds and countries. The program was highly politically oriented and that drew in a crowd that made documentaries, hackers, people that worked in communities, collectives, activists and so on. It was wonderful to meet so many like-minded people that had the same worries and desires, creating a very interesting network where we could share our experiences in different contexts. I enjoyed the American academic world, which is a rather critical one. You show your own work and analyse other people’s work the whole time in a critical manner, and that is very rare in Brazil. Especially in Minas Gerais. It’s almost impolite to criticize others.
When I started teaching at Guignard, the first subject I taught was Critiquing, which was a big challenge for me because that’s not my background, especially Brazilian art critique. But that made me study and read a lot. I enjoyed teaching that because I felt like I could make a difference based on my own experiences. The idea was to not only teach art critique but to create a critical environment where you could talk about things, building the foundation of knowledge for deeper discussions.
Did the students actually talk or did you have to lure them in?
It was a bit difficult, but they enjoyed listening to my critiques so I think that’s is a good start. Usually people become angry at whoever is criticizing them, but they could see the power of this exercise, and my critiques were genuine and carefully laid out, bringing in references and trying to disarticulate their early absolute certainties. Young artists are always the ones more sure of everything. At Guignard, people arrive to the school at different times in their lives: many already have an entirely separate professional life and they are mixed in with the students that just graduated from high school. The way they see life and their maturity levels vary greatly, creating an interesting confusion where they have to practice patience and tolerance because their opinions are so different. Sometimes students are not ready for the suggested exercises, many hate studying theory, and I never let go of the required readings. My background in media was very important when it comes to that, because with the amount of things I have been exposed to I cannot tolerate people not taking part in the discussions of the required readings.
Besides the more critical academic environment that you brought with you to Brazil, did you see anything in terms of alternative space initiatives that you think might have influenced JA.CA?
I took part in a few residences in New York as well as other cities and went to many institutions managed by artists, which are fairly common there. I also always shared studios and worked with many collectives. However, wanting a collective space in Belo Horizonte is perhaps something I inherited from my mother, Isaura Pena, who was an artist. When I was young, I lived through very important times for art here. Everything was so precarious that people had to come together. The norm was to be independent, autonomous, and daily life was intense. They always had collective studios that weren’t always used as studios but sometimes also as a place for workshops, talks and fairs. She started teaching at the University when I was still very young and our house was always full of local artists. She has a coalescing personality and is also very articulate, always trying to improve working conditions for herself as well as others.
When I graduated the environment was different and her generation was more dispersed. My colleagues either went to São Paulo or ended up working with something else, like design for example. The market was absorbing all the artists, but it wasn’t the art market because at the time we didn’t have that system in Belo Horizonte yet. Many, like me, also left the country.
When was that?
Between 2001 and 2002. For me it was very important to see those collective spaces in Barcelona and New York. In Barcelona there was Hangar, for example. Places with a library, room for workshops, for sharing information and knowledge, to do an internship, to have a studio, get a scholarship. They were places centered around studying but not through formal ways. You would raise questions and people were willing to help, integrating different generations. In New York there were many places, some were 30, 50 years old!
Already traditional places.
Yes, decades old and still very autonomous. Places that were never incorporated by institutions but that had a permanent life. I think here continuity is always a challenge. It takes a lot of energy to keep a place open, it becomes attached to the people that first opened it and you have to create a very solid structure so that it can survive possible shifts in its direction. In New York things are not less precarious, both for institutions and for artists. Nowadays the life of an emerging artist in New York is more precarious than it is here in Brazil.
Really. But that was not a big problem, at least not in the community I was a part of. Very few people lived off their artistic work, even though they never stopped trying to make things happen. Nobody hides their “parallel” lives either, the one that pays rent – being a designer, teacher, waiter, whatever. There’s a support network and you can make a lot happen through exchanges – I will make your website and you can lend me your space. There are platforms to facilitate these exchanges. Here we are stuck with using money, because we have financing. It’s great that we have financing, but when you stop having it, you stop working altogether.
In the United States they can’t even conceive just being handed fifty thousand dollars. You can count all the financing opportunities in the country and the artists that get them. Then here in Brazil how much is Funarte giving away in a year? In that sense things are more difficult there; people write very long applications to get a thousand dollars. We are living through a time when we fail to recognize how fortuitous financing is. When I would tell people in the United States that I have friends that got a million to make a movie they were shocked!
When JA.CA started out we had a lot of money from the Incentive Law, and we never had the same sort of financing again – we started doing a lot more with just one-third of the money. It was important to spend a year without any financing, I learned a lot and had to come up with different strategies to use our space, which we were renting. Actually, JA.CA is always forcing me to learn new things. We are very interested in learning how to drive down the costs we have, which are very high, and how to be able to support ourselves through other ways instead of relying solely on financing and grants. The choices to be as autonomous as possible are constant and sometimes you have to be less independent and autonomous to be able to have money.
Would you say the biggest challenge for JA.CA is to have that sort of continuity?
We don’t have the same fears we had during the first years, that constant threat of closing down. I think we are past that, because no matter what happens we will stay open. Since last year we started doing exercises in mobility and did a lot outside our own offices, and in 2014 we will have a lot of space for a residence project in the center of Belo Horizonte in partnership with Palácio das Artes.
But at first, with the financial situation so unstable, we were constantly worried. For every month in 2011, when we had no funding, Xandro (another founding member) and I paid for everything to keep JA.CA open. That was a very difficult year as I had just returned to the city a year before and had no connections at the time. I had never had an exhibition here, had never worked on any projects here. I slowly began to meet people and insert myself in the local scene.
You had to start from scratch?
Not exactly from scratch because we had a lot of structure and sponsoring when I first arrived. We had to get closer to people we had never met. I knew people from college and from my mother’s generation. It’s amazing we were able to reach so many people! Some encounters were very generous! Ana Tomé came to Belo Horizonte for a talk and got to know JA.CA. Only 4 months after we opened she invited us to be a part of Residencias en Red, and we became official members in 2011. After a year and a half I was invited to take part in the manager residence at Capacete. There was always a lof of generosity from people who believed in us. From those two networks I met great friends, people who share in the challenges and with whom we have collaborated with in wonderful projects.
Back to the challenges, I think that nowadays the biggest one is how to make projects happen without state funding? Whether we like it or not, that starts to dictate the program and activities of a space. At the beginning of the year you already know you will be doing projects with funding from Funarte, which requires a lot of running around because you have only 6 months to do everything, and that rush is not our time. The money we get could be stretched farther if we had a better deadline for the projects. How can we show them how things work? How can we keep an adaptable structure? I still don’t know. The question is: how can we live without public funding, which is our only form of funding today?
It’s a matter of coming up with smart ways to spend money when you have it and finding ways to stay active when you don’t have it! This year, 2014, we have funding for two projects, but for 2015 there are no guarantees. That model of financing seems wrong to me – it is not healthy for any institution to be so unsure of its future. That’s what’s wrong with our cultural policies – doing things with a time span of no more than twelve months. Knowing what next year will be like helps us spend the money more responsibly. It helps with small things too, for example booking a flight six months ahead is much different from booking a flight three weeks ahead. We can negotiate more because we know we have ‘X’ amount instead of ‘Y’. If you are rushed, you always spend more.
It’s a matter of being able to do long term planning.
Exactly, long term and with an organic autonomy, a characteristic of spaces like ours. Nobody wants to have a totally set program for two whole years. It’s part of how we work to stay open to changes, being flexible and acceptive. How far can we go using the model of strategic planning from corporate management? How can we adapt that to our reality? Last year we got training in corporate management and even though much of it is hard to apply to our reality we could still learn a lot from the management methodology. We started doing yearly planning, which is not rigid but gives us a certain peace of mind to think about projects, knowing when we will be focused on a bigger project and when we would be free to accept proposals we get. The advisor at Dom Cabral Foundation, where we were discussing these issues, said working this way was like “trying to change the tire while driving the car”. Staying organized today means exactly that: doing everything at the same time, while the car is still moving.
How do you see the feminine participation in your field of work?
We have data that shows a smaller feminine participation in the art field. We have less data specifically for Brazil, we have less research on the subject, but abroad there’s a lot of studies on this. There’s data on the amount of work by men and women in the most prominent museums. We also know most curators and artists represented by galleries are men. I am the daughter and granddaughter of artists. My grandmother, Maria Helena Andrés, is 91 years old and is still active, showing her work and writing for her blog every week. They both lived very intense professional lives, traveling and producing a lot, and were always connected to education. They definitely went through much more complex things than what I go through. My grandmother has many stories about how her family dealt with her profession at the time, but she also married a doctor and had 6 kids, all while traveling the whole world with her work and being an artist in residence. My grandfather was a rock for their children and fully supported her work.
Belo Horizonte is known for the feminine presence and many renowned artists are from here, but I am not sure what exactly that means. There are many of us here, that’s a fact! As managers, I think I has to do with the domestic side, caring. I don’t know how things would be if I had not become a mother one year before we opened JA.CA. There’s a certain sensibility and care for the artists in residence here. I think we are also very focused and devoted to a cause. A project is like a child, and between Gabriel and JA.CA… JA.CA is a lot more work! At the same time, I wonder how things would be at JA.CA if it wasn’t for my husband, Ricardo, who’s unwittingly been a big help psychologically and financially because when I had to support JA.CA I was not bringing in any money, which is not normal for us, and he was very helpful. So I can’t say JA.CA is just a product of my own efforts, or that the founders and helpers of JA.CA are all women. Actually, JA.CA started out with more men than women, but they men slowly drifted away from the daily life of the space.
What would you say are the differences between men and women when managing?
Since 2013 here at JA.CA we are two women, Joana and I, and one man, Matheus. Our level of engagement is not different – our roles are different, and that has nothing to do with being a man or a woman. It has to do with who we are, what we know and like. We complement each other perfectly. Management, for example, is handled by Joana, which was very freeing for me, having someone who can take care of something I have a hard time with allowing me to take on a more artistic stance and dedicate myself to more creative things, having more time to spend with the artists without worrying about money and paying people. She’s much better at that than I am, she loves charts and I hate them! Matheus is our saviour when it comes to taking care of the space, being a carpenter and a psychologist – he’s so much better at talking to people than we are. Joana and I are very strict, because women seem to take up these roles where there’s a need to impose yourself so often it becomes difficult to be more “docile”. We have had many experiences where Matheus is the most docile one.
And what was it like having a child in the middle of all that?
Oh, he went everywhere. He traveled to residences, goes to exhibitions, he does everything. He’s a happy kid. I cannot imagine myself not being a mother, I have always wanted to have kids.
How do you perceive the people around you when it comes to family structures, having children and so on?
Obviously having children is limiting in a certain way. You helps you prioritize and not waste time with what isn’t important, because if something is not important it’s better to just set it aside and spend time with your kids. Perhaps having a kid helped me focus more. I never use having a kid as an excuse for not being able to do something, but it definitely makes me want to do less things, so I am more selective. I have accomplished a lot since Gabriel was born. He was born exactly one year before we opened JA.CA. At the same time, I had a lot of support from Ricardo, my husband. Maybe it would have been different if the structure I have at home was different. With him, it’s perfectly fine for me to travel, to be away for two weeks in Madrid for example. We organize ourselves and he takes care of Gabriel by himself, the same way I organize myself to be by myself when he travels. Every time I travel they become closer, it’s a beautiful thing to see. I have a certain support at home that might be outside of the norm. It’s an understanding of how important JA.CA is for me, and Ricardo takes part in the events, the planning and hosting people at our house because of JA.CA.
Did your mother have a similar daily life?
Hers was much more intense than mine! When I was born my mom was much younger than I was when I had Gabriel. My mother had three children and got divorced when she was 27 years old. Of course, she had a mother that was her rock, not only for her but for us as well. We spent a lot of time with our grandmother, and she was an amazing grandmother. My father was always very present too, it’s not like she was abandoned with three kids. Of course her career would have been much different if she hadn’t had kids. Here is not easy to have your children with you, taking them to work. For me it was very important to have had Gabriel in New York.
Why is that?
Because having your kids with you everywhere is normal there. If you stop doing things, it’s because of your own choice. Sometimes the father is the one to decide: “I don’t want to work, I want to stay home with my son” as the mother makes more money, she ends up supporting the family. The city is ready for people to go where they want with their kids. I once went to meeting at the Brazilian consulate with Gabriel, when he was a baby. The person I was meeting didn’t think it was weird because she had a kid and she understands not having anyone to take care of your child. Here things are different. I can’t imagine going to a meeting carrying a baby. I took Gabriel to many talks and workshops where people were so angry at him running around. What am I supposed to do with him at 8 p.m.?
During Gabriel’s first year we traveled so often! I was working, and so was Ricardo. I think having a child changes things, but I don’t feel like the underdog because of that. Maybe I am privileged when it comes to my family – my family understands that for me to be accomplished professionally is very important. That is not the case in every home in Brazil. It’s a very sexist country where the mother is expected to change the diapers, bathe and groom the children. Fortunately that is not how things work in my home.
It seems that here when you have a child you must forgo all else.
I always joke with Joana and Matheus that if they want to have kids, I’ll have another one myself and we can open a daycare at JA.CA. Last year we realized there was a pattern when we were selecting the artists in residence, a sort of diagnostics of the “woman in residence”.
What did that diagnostics of the woman in residence show?
We realized it was very difficult to evaluate men’s and women’s applications for residence equally. When we have our list with the finalists, there’s always more men than women. Most of the women applying for residence simply don’t have their work as well developed as the men’s. They only apply up to a certain age – for many reasons, perhaps because you have to get everything done up to a certain age so you can have a child, or because they already have a child and can’t commit to the process, or because they have an academic life they can’t get away from during the residence period and so on – they have other life commitments earlier than men. We get a lot of men over 35 years old applying, but not a single woman of that age. We didn’t come to any conclusions but we did observe this difference. Most women that apply are about 20 years old, but men’s age varies a lot.
How do you interpret that data? Were you surprised by this?
We still don’t know how to deal with this, we are still debating it. What if we had a residence project that accepts children for example? How would we do that? For me it was very important to have residence experiences by myself, without Gabriel. Time is a crazy thing – you never have time for anything in your daily life and then all of a sudden you are somewhere new where all you have is free time to occupy with whatever you want. It is scary how suddenly you have so much time. What should I do? Read? Ride a bike? It’s interesting to experience that without a child.
We still don’t have the answers, we don’t know what to do so we can undo this reality, but there’s definitely a difference between the men and the women that apply. As much as we try to achieve a certain balance when selecting the artists, it is very difficult to do so because we get applications from men that are much more well rounded, and we understand it is not because they are better than the women, they are just at different points in their lives.
What was the question looming over this realization for it to become reality?
The whole time I wanted to achieve balance between male and female participation. I would tell the jury: “Guys, there’s no women here!” So we started to look into things closely. It wasn’t anything formal, it was just an attempt to understand what was happening and why. It was all very naïve. Another thing we realized is that whenever we work on a project – right now we are working with Cris Tejo and Samantha Moreira – there’s a lot of women involved.
But again that didn’t go very far. That’s another characteristic of autonomous spaces: we don’t have the time to rationalize and organize that sort of data and perceptions. We have very few opportunities to do that. We don’t have the time to think about it and we don’t know what to do with that information.
What we did on our last residence was we selected a woman, a young one, understanding that sometimes we have to be the place that will help her mature her work. At the same time, we can’t be just that. Her interaction with older artists is very productive, whether they are men or women. Unfortunately they were all men. The interaction between those different stages of work is very interesting, to combine people who are so sure of things with those who have a more unpretentious work, which can sometimes be more genuine, more experimental and daring.
One of the goals listed in the 2nd National Plan of Policies for Women is to “revert the processes that lead to the construction of asymmetrical power relations in the fields of culture and media”. With your media background and your current work in the art field, do you feel this goal has been accomplished?
I wouldn’t know how to answer that. Despite having graduated in media, I don’t know how exactly to define that field. Advertising? Radio shows? TV shows? I can define media when it comes to projects, but what would those policies regarding media be? The same goes for culture: promote those policies through what? Talks? Educations? Funding opportunities?
At the same time, the issue of funding opportunities is very complex because I think it would be important for men to also have a place to think about women, about the feminine. If you only have women analyzing the role of women in society, you get stuck in a cycle that won’t go anywhere. As if it was just about complaining. And this much we know: nobody in Brazil is going to say we have gender equality. We don’t and we know it. Even men won’t say that. Here in Jardim Canadá, the neighborhood where JA.CA is located, all homes have only mothers taking care of children, sometimes with three generations of women. How do you solve this through culture and media? Perhaps it would be better to solve it through education. It’s a very serious issue, a matter of changing the mentality and the understanding of people. A change in the domestic life, so that couples can see themselves as equals, sharing tasks without certain tasks being exclusively done by one or the other. It is very difficult because mothers have an instinct to fix things. I often caught myself doing more just because I did more. Gabriel would wake up and I would get up. It’s the instinct, wanting to fix things. I think this is a deeper change than something just regarding culture and media.
Sometimes segregating women in a particular activity – even if it is to discuss their own roles in society – is seen as sexism.
Indeed. At JA.CA, we have been working with men that engage in this discussion about the role of women in society. How can we do that if you are supposed to have women discussing this? With the issue of diagnosing what happens in the residences it is the same: since we realized there’s less women applying, should we start accepting women only for the residences? Would that change their lives so much? That’s why I think it’s more about education, we need to start discussing those issues with younger people if we want to achieve any real change. We need to change how people believe the domestic life should be like, and from then move on to more systemic changes.
I think art can help a lot when it comes to political and social issues, subverting certain situations and creating propositions, but on a very small scale. We can’t get to that many people, if you look at the numbers in Brazil. For example, the Biennial in São Paulo is very big in terms of audience, they reach six hundred thousand people. But what is six hundred thousand people when you look at the population of the whole country? It is nothing. I think we can contribute to the discussion, but I believe in bigger changes. Perhaps after many years all the small changes will become something big.
What happens to your own artistic work in the middle of all that?
My work, after technology and video, became research on ways to cooperate, as well as on studies and understanding of territories. JA.CA is a large scale representation of what I am interested in. I don’t think I have stopped working. I have always worked with collectives, so for me having my name in a piece is not very important. I became a part of JA.CA and JA.CA is a part of me. People even call me “Jaca” instead of Chica by mistake!
I also think we need to question how we position ourselves – where’s my name? What is my role? If I am asked to curate something, am I a curator? I don’t want to be a curator, for example. I see myself as an artist with the role of an organizer, I accept challenges to conceive and organize an event or an exhibition, but I am not very interested in static exhibitions. I’m more interested in the process. When I’m asked to curate something I want to subvert things a little bit so it becomes something exciting for me. At the same time, I don’t care if people see me as an artist, a curator or whatever. Outside of Brazil that seems easier, people always understand that I can be an artist and have a collaborative project.
Here we seem very concerned with roles, knowing what someone is, curator or artist. Throughout the interviews we saw a lot of diversity when it comes to that, even though we still seek to know what each person’s role is in their field.
Exactly, it is much more difficult to take on a cross subject approach here, like what I said before about the academic world. In the United States people value being multifaceted, moving across different fields. Here is the opposite, our academics are incredibly specialized. At the same time, this is a very old discussion. Frederico Morais, for example, talked about this in the 70’s. It’s weird that nothing has changed! I have no more angst about this – at first I had a little bit. I quickly understood that I feed creatively off those articulations. I think if it wasn’t for my role as an organizer – which I think is something particular to the artist that sees things differently – JA.CA wouldn’t be what it is today. And perhaps that would take us back to the question about feminist policies, which might be looking at the power of art and culture in the wrong way. It seems the goal is to create a market instead of a discussion. I don’t think we will make it there by excluding the men.