Public Parking
A journal for storytelling, arguments, and discovery through tangential conversations.
A Conversation with Jazmin Papadopoulos

 

 

 

 

We had the great pleasure of speaking with the delightful and well spoken unrelenting writer, artist, poet, and all around creative thinker Jazmin Papadopoulous. Our conversation with Papadopoulous extended across a myriad of topics including why Papadopoulous prefers to be referred to by pluralist pronoun; 'them or they' instead of 'her or she' or 'him or he' and why that preference is not a politically driven one but rather a more personal protective choice. We further discuss Papadopoulous' one time foray at a clowning school, thoughts on marginalization and the stigmatization attached around that concept, video art, audience, victim-hood, and gender identity among other topics. Papadopoulous recently completed an artist residency at Cartae at the Winnipeg artist run center Ace Art. After speaking with Papadopoulous, I got a resonant sense of the way they [Papadopoulous] think and how that mind for insightful thinking, redirects conventions and highlights a reassessing of them. The Cartae program was a way for them[Papadopoulous] to think about their insistent ideas and viewpoints and find different ways to visually express and embellish them.

 

 

Jazmin Papadopoulos in speaking about the Cartae residency:

 

Cartae has been really good for art production. I’ve never made as many things in one period as I have since I began the program. Having the physical space – as well as the conceptual space – to create goals and make work was nice. It’s the largest body of work I’ve made since being school. In comparison, school was more guided, and I had a greater motivation to write—which I very much still enjoy doing—and do research. Lately, I haven’t put as much time looking into theory, but more time writing and reading poetry and lit.

 

 

 

"I think it’s important to know the history of what you are doing because maybe it has a fucked up history, or maybe there are other lineages that really relate more to you. This is especially important for white folks to be self-reflexive about, as it’s culturally acceptable to appropriate from other cultures but doing so is also participating in colonialist legacy and white supremacy."

 

 

 

Luther Konadu: Has writing always come fairly easy for you?

 

Jazmin Papadopoulous: Yeah, I think I’ve always had an easy time writing. I recently moved towards writing poetry as a result of reading postcolonial feminist theory in University, but I approach writing poetry similarly to clowning: it’s this impulsive, intuitive thing. I still don’t know much about writing poetry on a formal or technical level…I can maybe do it sometimes, but it’s hard to talk about. I know everything is based out of tradition, and I feel a little clueless about that when it comes to writing. Sometimes I feel like an arrogant asshole when I’m like, “I can write, I’ll just throw this little poem out there, but not know anyone that writes in this format and the history of it.” Naturally, there’s a learning curve and I’m working on it, but I still think it’s problematic to do work without knowing much about the history surrounding it. I’m slowly rooting myself more in what has been done. I think it’s important to know the history of what you are doing because maybe it has a fucked up history, or maybe there are other lineages that really relate more to you. This is especially important for white folks to be self-reflexive about, as it’s culturally acceptable to appropriate from other cultures but doing so is also participating in colonialist legacy and white supremacy.

 

 

 

 

Photo Contribution by Travis Ross

 

 

 

 

LK: What kind of work did you submit as proposal?

 

JP: My proposal was based around bridging poetry with my clowning practice. That led me into experimenting with and making work in video. I got interested in the history of marginalized people with low access to technology making art with video. I started to work with Video Pool. I never really had much exposure to video as an art form so I spent some time there, watching video art and talking to them about what I was interested in and what kind of work I can get from using the medium.

 

LK: Tell me about your experience with clown school...how did you get the idea to try it out?

 

JP: I went to clown school in Vancouver. I know three other people who have been to that school. My old roommate one day said to me, “I’m a clown!” and I was like, “What does that even mean? That's ridiculous,” and she started talking about it as kind of an empathetic activist practice. She described it as noticing everyday moments where people either feel uncomfortable or ashamed, noticing those ‘blocked moments’ that stop us from being who we really are, and being able to address them and spin them back on yourself in a way that lets everyone acknowledge and notice them and have these ‘special moments’ of acceptance. I was in school for conflict and resolution studies and I didn’t feel I was really good at it the “empathetically connecting with people” part. Hearing this perspective on clowning got me interested in enrolling in clown school, hoping it would help me became a better counselor or therapist or less awkward at social events or something. 

 

LK: Where did making visual or fine art work come into play?

 

JP: I’ve always made creative work but have been hesitant to call what I’ve made art or call myself an artist. This continued until my last year of school when I became exposed to feminist thinkers that bridge artistic and activist practices with academics; for example, the way that Gloria Anzaldua writes theory but uses multiple languages and includes storytelling and poetry.

 

 

 

'Autonomy'

 

 

 

LK: How have you been approaching what you make?

 

JP: I think the way I’ve been doing it is kind of a flow from cerebral to sensational. There would be an idea that I’d think about a lot…For example, something I’ve been thinking about a lot is diaspora (I’m first generation Greek Canadian). So, I’ll be thinking about by heritage, then I’ll read a bunch about identity, movement, place, etc., and think about it and maybe spend a day meditating on it and doing movement exercises, and then write a poem that day, and then I’ll be done. So I do spend a majority of the time thinking about it and then making the work impulsively. I know very little about art theory or art history and sometimes feel like an imposter because of that.

 

LK: Do you think the work you end up making as a result of your thinking process makes justice your ideas that you think and research about?

 

JP: I actually don’t know for sure. I really think about things pretty academically. I think maybe in an ideal world, I would include an essay with every piece that I made. I feel comfortable when people who have read similar theory or lit look at my work. I feel better understood by them because we share, to some extent, a lens through which to view the work. I find that people who don’t share cultural space with me or don’t have a theoretical background can totally misread what I’m trying to do and what my intentions are, which breaks my heart a little but I’m still experimenting.

 

LK: What kind of portfolio did you submit for the residency coming into it?

 

JP: I submitted an abstract for a paper I wrote on clowning, some recent poetry and a collage piece I made for the first volume of Dear Journal.

 

 

 

On Dear Journal:

 

JP: Dear Journal is a local publication started by Laina and Dunja. I would describe it as “tumblr feminism,” it is about digging into recovering the practice of writing in a diary or writing blogs and highlighting “the lived experience women, non-binary and two spirit folx.” (I pulled that from their Instagram: dearjrnl)

 

I made a piece called the best line of my okc profile as told by my facebook status. On Okcupid there are different sections titles, like “about you,” “ gender,” “the most thing I’m willing to admit about myself”…so I went through all my old Facebook statuses and pulled one-liners and made a collage of it.

 

 

https://vimeo.com/174161015

 

 

 

 

 

 

LK: How did video come in?

 

JP: The video I made for the Cartae Year End came up while I was thinking about different ways I could present my writings. I wanted something really big. I wanted to create a visceral, immersive response in my audience (as opposed to something you’d experience reading a page in a book). It led me to a lot of experimenting and playing around, and wound up as a 5 minute loop of time-based poetry and collage.

 

 

 

"I’m not a woman, but I’ve had a lot of conditioning towards womanhood."

 

 

 

LK: What did you take in school?

 

JP: I wanted to either go into human rights or nursing or something. But I realized I hated working and loved fun so I didn’t end up going to med school, I went into an arts program. I still think sometimes that I’ll go to law school, and then I look at my friends who are in law school…Needless to say, I still haven’t written an LSAT.

 

 

LK: How did you decide on that area of study?

 

JP: It seemed inevitable. Activism and human rights have always been really important to me. I also think part of it is a gendered thing.

 

 

LK: How do you mean?

 

JP: Like female-assigned people live their lives being told that they are care givers. I came from a very traditional family. My grandparents are very traditional…I have a dowry! Literally, my grandmother has this trunk of possessions that would theoretically go to my future husband when I get married. I’m not a woman, but I’ve had a lot of conditioning towards womanhood. So there’s a history of women as care-givers, and there’s also a history of women as peace warriors and the foundation of social movements.

 

LK: But do you think having that interest come from a gendered place? Do you think if you were a guy you wouldn’t be that way?

 

My brothers aren’t that way at all. There were different expectations of us in our family, and in basically all social spaces. I think they definitely think differently than I do about issues like these.

 

 

"I didn’t decide to be trans as an activist tactic. It’s not my ideal that telling someone that my pronouns are “they” makes them uncomfortable, or think that I’m “pushing some agenda,” but anything non-normative is deemed political, because it challenges the status quo.

 

 

LK: I never really thought about being a nurturing and compassionate was necessarily gendered. I know there are jobs that more women do than men like nursing but I always associate it with everyone.

 

JP: I don’t want to promote compassion or peace as a gendered thing! But I won’t ignore the historical work that women (trans and cis) have put into peace movements (this already gets washed over enough by mainstream history which focuses on men). There are substantial peace initiatives that are wholly run by women. Human rights and peace work are definitely linked to who is doing the actual labour. Beyond this, ignoring the gendered aspect of conflict fails us because women are impacted by war in unique ways that are often ignored by research and relief organizations. I don’t think it’s responsible to ever ignore gender.

 

 

 

Photo Contribution by Travis Ross

 

 

 

LK: Before meeting and asking about you, I was told to refer to you as “them,” not “her” or “she.” Everyone was very adamant that I make sure that I use “them” which made me become aware of what I say and I try to make sure that I say the right thing which is a very powerful thing because in a way you are interjecting how normally talk. Does that come from the fact that you have this interest in women and gender rights?

 

JP: Well I can’t say it is unrelated. My gender identity (gender queer), that’s more just of a me thing. That’s me being like, “I’m queer. This is my gender.” It’s not a political choice, but it’s not a non-politicized place to be, either. Having a marginalized gender makes you more aware of gender…women are already a marginalized gender and transgender and non-binary people are hardly even recognized as real gender categories, so yes, it’s very prevalent in my mind and my life. It makes sense to me that marginalized people spend a lot of time thinking about human rights, conflict, etc., because your safety every day is at stake. It’s not really meant to be like a political agenda, I didn’t decide to be trans as an activist tactic. It’s not my ideal that telling someone that my pronouns are “they” makes them uncomfortable, or think that I’m “pushing some agenda,” but anything non-normative is deemed political, because it challenges the status quo. We don’t just see this with gender, just look at the Black Lives Matter movement. Being black challenges white supremacy, which therefore makes it a site of political warfare. People are very, very defensive of the status quo.

 

LK: Marginalization is easily attributed to seeking sympathy from people or putting yourself out there as a victim or making people feel bad for you. How do you view that association with it being a pity seeking thing?

 

JP: I see what you’re saying but I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se. I think most people *are* marginalized, and a lot of discussion about being marginalized comes up in conversation when something shitty happens. It makes sense that when shitty things happen, when you’re harmed or told you’re unimportant or disposable, you’re like “my feelings are really hurt.” It’s ridiculous that people think it’s not valuable, or self-pitying, to be honest about that.

 

LK: When you say ‘most people’ what do you mean?

 

JP: Well I mean that in North America, society is structured so that cis-hetero white dudes live fairly easily in general. It’s a privilege and oppression thing. We make it easy for certain people to live and there are a lot more people who don’t live easily. So, like if a single mom can’t afford day care because they don’t have enough money, that’s a form of marginalization. Say you hear someone say they are having a really hard time one day for whatever reason, they can’t get things done or they are having a hard time juggling everything together, that’s them talking about their marginalization. There are so many examples of this, like we could cite the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, or waitresses complaining about misogyny and sexism in the industry, almost anywhere where people are talking about social experiences that have hurt them. And, it’s a tool for identifying gaps in how we take care of people in society. I think that when onlookers or people in the comments section or whatever say “that’s stupid, why do they always have to say they are having a hard time,” well that’s because you have things that make your life easy and not everyone has that and it’s shitty of you to be like “Stop talking about your problems, I want to ignore it when society fails people, ‘cause I’m having a good time and I don’t want to think about it any more than that..”

 

 

Photo Contribution by Travis Ross

 

 

 

LK: Where do you stand with being a marginalized person and coming off as a victim?

 

JP: Victimhood is fraught. I can say a lot of things about it. One thing that comes to my mind is what reappropriating identifying as a victim to like to destigmatize it. When I walked in today and I was like: “man, I was just sexually assaulted.” That’s me being like: “I was just victimized, holy fuck.” (Like, seriously, I was sexually assaulted on my way to this interview, and was really shaken when I arrived.) I don’t want to ignore that. I want to say it so that other people know that it happened. And sort of feel that about my work too. I’m essentially saying “all these things happen to me, did they happen to you too? You are not alone.” It’s something we don’t really talk about. And I guess I’m claiming victimhood. Is it bad? I can be empowering I think. It helps people find community. And if someone is irritated about me claiming that then I shouldn’t be spending time with them because I’m going to assume that they are not going to want me to talk about important things. Another thing I’ve been thinking a lot about is audience. I’ve had a lot of other studio visits which have been mostly white dudes and when they see the work, they don’t know how to respond to it. They are like, “I just don’t get what’s going on.” I write “cunt” in a poem and they don’t know what to do, they think it’s too abrasive and distracts from the piece, and I’m like; I don’t care. This poem isn’t for you (whoa, what?! Something not for you?!) I’m writing for me, and other people like me, but that’s not a mainstream audience.

 

LK: So you are not necessary interested in universal audience...

 

JP: I want to have visibility of course. But just enough that it can find other non-mainstream people. The internet is really good for that. I do think that it’s interesting and important for people who I’m not targeting to read and receive the work, and interrupt and challenge their perspectives, but that’s not where my heart is at when I’m actually writing. I’m interested in my own growth and voice, and building community with people. Our voices and communities do need to become part of dominant narratives, but I’m not going to dilute either of these things to make them more palatable. That’s ineffective, and dishonest. Not what I’m going for.

 

 

 

Photo Contribution by Travis Ross