Throughout the ArtPrize years with over 270,000 individuals personally interacting with my healing work by writing notes, signing names, hanging paper prayers, or tying ribbons, I have gained a decade of experience as the maker of participatory artwork. But I also have had to learn—how to flow—with the interactive nature of each work from some very painful mistakes. Here’s an example of one of those difficult lessons:
In 2011 at Braving the Wind, an exhibit about remembering cancer survivors, visitors were invited to write a note and hang it on the metal Healing Tree. Most people understood the purpose for the interactive work. But a French family misunderstood.
Their son had written a birthday wish to a friend and hung it on the Healing Tree. When they mentioned the birthday note in their broken English, I explained that the work was for cancer survivors. They were so embarrassed that they removed their son’s note and left. In that terrible moment, I realized my blunder. It really didn’t matter that they had misinterpreted the work. I had ruined the healing moment for that dear family.
Consequently, I learned a big lesson. The hard way! I would have done anything to have had a second chance to redo the conversation with that French family.
But my failure taught me a valuable lesson: Pamela, let the work uniquely speak to each individual! Whether people understand the exact meaning of the work or not, it doesn’t matter. Just let the work work!
That same year a few days later, a female visitor also had a unique response. Divorce had been her cancer. So, she hung a note about her pain-filled divorce. Throughout the years, my interactive work has prompted many special healing occasions for ArtPrize visitors and helped me gain experience in allowing it to happen.
This year at Broken Wings, my ArtPrize Ten work about bullying and school shooting, a woman started crying when she realized that the exhibit invited interaction. Her sister had died as a result of burns in an accident. Overcome by the beauty of the work: A healing moment was born. As she wrote a precious remembrance on a band for her sister, she asked me to snap a photo. The tears continued to flow as she connected the band onto Broken Wings. The work invited this tender moment.
Because my bumbling interaction with the French family is still fresh in my memory, valuable lessons have been gained on how to adapt with each situation. Interactive healing art needs to be fluid. And each healing work works differently. So, a decade later, I have had over 270,000 opportunities for personal growth moments with each special healing interaction!
What mistakes have turned into life lessons for you?
Broken Wings
Grand Rapids Public Museum
272 Pearl Street NW (west of the river)
September 19 to October 7, 2018
Vote #66688
In light of the recent tragic school shootings across America, find out how you can create positive change from national bullying specialist Jeff Veley.
Share your story #BrokenWings
Our healing art involves you—because you matter!
Recently, a friend challenged me to rethink my ArtPrize Ten entry by introducing me to Marcel Duchamp’s work called, Fountain (1917): a porcelain urinal turned upside down and signed with a fake name: “R. Mutt.”