Be The Mycelium
Why bother emerging? The real work is happening deep in the soil
The concept of the emerging artist is one of the slipperiest in the art world. Everywhere you look, there are shows, fellowships and residencies specifically for emerging artists. But what does “emerging” mean?
Some applications define it as a person who has been making art for less than 10 years, regardless of age or education.
Video: Excerpt from Symbiotica, an interactive “cyborg sculpture garden” by Jackie Hoysted, inspired by mycelium
Another defines the emerging artist as someone “in the initial phases of building significant recognition. They are actively working to grow and sustain an exhibition record, gallery representation, honors or awards, art critics reviews, grants, publications, etc.”
Artsy puts it more bluntly: usually under 40.
But since very few artists ever do achieve significant recognition, and many are over 40, that means that only a tiny fraction of artists will ever “emerge.”
It’s clearly too late for me. Last year, I asked a foundation hosting a residency for emerging artists if they had anything similar available for us old folk. They assured me that age was not a consideration and that “we believe that artists can emerge several times over the course of their careers.” Yet somehow the photos of their previous residency cohorts featured no gray hair.
I’ve decided not to even try to emerge.
I will stay under the surface.
I will stretch outward.
I will form connections.
I will nourish and be nourished.
I will be mycelium.
Mycelium is the root-like structure of a fungus. Made up of a mass of branching, thread-like hyphae, it hides below the soil and forms vast networks, ranging in size from microscopically small to miles wide.
The mycelial network of one individual fungus connects with many different plants, forming a vast interconnected web of shared information and nutrients. Among the many things mycelium does: it aids in the decomposition of plant materials, transports water and nutrients, and releases carbon dioxide.
Recent research suggests that mycelium exhibits “cellular consciousness” – making decisions, altering developmental patterns in response to interactions with other organisms, maybe even possessing the capacity to learn and remember.
Mycelium, in many ways, forms the communication and resource transportation infrastructure of the biological world. In Merlin Sheldrake’s beautiful phrase, “Mycelium is the living seam by which much of life is stitched into relation.”
Connecting, sharing, doing essential work while never emerging: doesn’t that sound like most of the artists you know?
It’s no surprise that the intricate structures and crucial functions of mycelium have attracted many visual artists, including me. I’ve shared several mycelium-inspired artworks in this newsletter. I’m not going to say too much about them, but I hope that they intrigue you enough to look further at the work of these artists, none of whom are famous. [Website Links: Jackie Hoysted / Richard Giblett / Alexandra Steiner / Claire Burbridge / Michele Banks]
Artists, don’t worry if you never emerge. The important work is happening down here in the soil.
Be the mycelium.
If you would like to support my work, please consider subscribing to this newsletter, sharing it with your networks, or buying a painting
Wonderful! Thank you.
I like your mycelium analogy! Nicely done!