Rhiannon Lowe
1. What were some of your earliest experiences of art? What was your route into art practice?
I guess that early memories are of drawing instead of writing, making cards, being taunted at school for being a goodie-goodie, able to make art for teachers to coo at a bit. I should have done a foundation, but escaped instead direct to a little-known degree course, fluffed my way through half a Masters, ran away to the seaside to learn gallery work, and then on to do museums studies. I’ve not been a conscientious continuous maker; I’ve spent more time working with others’ artwork. It’s only recently I’ve got back to any sense of dedicated practice. I’ve shown bits of work occasionally, had exhibitions, but real life gets in the way; sometimes I find it hard to join the dots between making work and making sure I have breakfast in the morning, you know, the basics.
2. Who/what are your biggest influences? (people, music, film, place, books etc)
I don’t know about influences necessarily, but there’s always a lot of things lolling about in my head. Right now there’s Spoon, Laura Stevenson, Dirtbombs, Jason Molina, Uboa, Pharmakon, Special Interest, Apostille, Trouble Every Day, Goddess of 1967, Town Called Panic, Trans Like Me, Mike Mulligan’s Steam Shovel… I’m not keen on the ‘magpie’ term, but I am a flibbertigibbet, can’t concentrate on much for long. I found some Soviet propaganda imagery to butcher together for my upcoming show at Mission Gallery in Swansea, and looked at the handmade aesthetic vs the professional content of zines. I wish it were the ‘80s again to be honest, visually, not politically of course; but maybe that’s just my wanting to start over sometimes. I was a teenager in the ‘80s, that’s the time of life everyone wants to re-live… sort of… yeh?
3. You’re currently on a fellowship at g39 in Cardiff. What does this fellowship allow you to do? Has it changed your practice in any way? What do you enjoy most about being a part of the fellowship?
It’s given me a chance to concentrate just on my practice, have studio space and time to enable me to make work for a show. I’ve had some 121s, curatorial chats, studio visits. Three other arts organisations elsewhere in the UK are also part of the programme, which is funded by Freelands Foundation; that’s been a good way of making connections. Covid has screwed a lot of the travel and IRL meetup possibilities, the more social aspects; but I’ve been able to make a den at g39, hide away from other commitments for a while. Main takeaway from the fellowship is to try to make sure I have a studio space in my life, whenever I can afford it. I’d forgotten its worth.
4. Your practice is so rich – spanning sound, video, making, curating, writing and more – lots of different elements that seem to feed into one wider thing. Could you share a little bit about the things/jobs you do/ have done outside of your art practice? Do these elements all feed into one another for you?
Ha, kind of you to call my practice rich; I might use a more disparaging term. And likewise, my work-life aside from making has been… scattered. I’ve worked in galleries, in Wales and England, managed artist residency programmes, done front of house work in art centres. I helped run charity shops for a while, which was great, of course. I moved to Cardiff (for the third time) in 2014 to help on CCQ magazine, a contemporary art publication. Words and print have become much more part of my practice since then. I’d like to try work on a proper pro publication again in the future; there’s no making a living in it though, but It’s such an interesting format to push around with.
5. Your exhibition ‘Cekca Het: Trans Panic’ runs at Mission Gallery in Swansea this summer. Could you tell us a bit about the origins of the work you’re exhibiting?
My work is about being trans, mostly. I’ve used teenage dreams of being in a band as a way to look at my life as a trans woman now; and used my experience of transitioning to look back at my ‘80s teenage years. I’m trying to make sense, maybe, bring the two aspects together; and show my fight to find a position.
The Mission show is a mess of noise, film, costume, print. I’ve made a Sunday supplement type publication, some zines, had a welcome mat printed, recorded a lot of careful, rather random noise and sounds, then wrecked them, put them together to form a couple of mini albums.
There’s elements in the show of a wider struggle as well as my own, tho’. Trans lives are relentlessly endangered globally; here in the UK, the hate (can’t think of another word right now) is usually led by mainstream media, ignorant government dicks, and fringey, terfy, trans-exclusionaries. I’m a little voice, but I’m privileged at least to have a platform, briefly – this show, this interview even. Before the ‘burn it all down’ stage, I’ll settle for making little personal protests, with a bit of noise, some swearing. There’ll be some chat in the Mission show about this, mixed in with my personal messy journey. Trans people are just trying to get on with their lives; I know I am.
The title Trans Panic – it’s about the apparent fear and distrust trans people create, just by being present; it’s about the way the media out, ridicule and shame trans people, even now; it’s about how trans people are assumed to be deceivers, and how law systems worldwide have used this to absolve abusers, reduce sentences of murderers. Cekca Het is a mis-heard, mis-understanding, mis-translation even, of what a Russian woman was mis-reported of saying on live television, when the Soviets and Americans hosted a joint chat show, to exchange experiences in the name of glasnost, in the 1980s. ‘There’s no sex in Russia…’ was the reported quote, missing out the ending ‘…on television’. I’ve trimmed and stolen, pulling out the ‘no sex’ part – it’s sometimes how I feel, without sex. I’ve been told cekca het as it stands alone, might actually translate as ‘sex hat’. I’m fine with that.
A few lovelies have helped me pull the show together. Rob Kennedy and Ric Bower made me a pair of goldish knuckle dusters. I had a glam photoshoot by Megan Winstone &co; Abi Hubbard designed and fabricated an outfit for me. There’ll be merch at the Mission show, vests printed by Shaun James, patches sewn by Jane Winterbottom, some dodgy votive candles with my old mug on. I had lessons in noise-making in Ableton from the brilliant Aja, so I could make the albums. And I couldn’t have done it at all without supportive words from many at g39, Freelands and roundabouts, and help from Arts Council Wales. It’s important to say these things, nothing gets made without others.
6. What’s next on the horizon for you? Anything else you’d like to add?
I’m not sure what is next after Freelands, quite. Before my time’s up next year, there’s a group show at g39, another in London, and Freelands are making a publication for this year’s cohort of fellowshippers. I want to make the most of the last few months in my studio at g39, start some more writing, push the noise-making, apply for a show or two, dream about starting some burning… My intention for the last year had been to get up in front of people more, perform a bit for real, be scared. That hasn’t happened, curse of the Covid, but maybe that’ll shift before long.
Rhiannon Lowe grew up in North Yorkshire, studied in Lancaster, Birmingham and Leicester. She’s been in a bunch of group shows in the UK, performed a few times around Cardiff, and shown solo at among others: Arcadecardiff (now Arcade Campfa) and Spit and Sawdust in Cardiff; Ropewalk in Barton-upon-Humber; Brewery Arts Centre, Kendal; South Square, Bradford.
Read the Merched yn Gwneud Celf zine here.
www.axisweb.org/p/rhiannonlowe