A review of DEPOT ‘25

‘Fusion Arts connects artists with communities promoting dynamic creative projects that drive social justice and celebrate diversity. Fusion Arts is a catalyst for creativity in Oxford and beyond.’ – The Fusion Arts brochure

 

I’m no stranger to the pretensions of the Art World. My grandmother, a professor of art history and museum curator, has hauled me along to more openings, auctions, and private viewings than I can count. These functions invariably involve a lot of loud ladies with eccentric glasses and massive earrings, accompanied by surprisingly dour husbands, and at least one gentleman in an interestingly patterned suit. Everyone always knows everyone, speaking in a kind of gilded code- Darling! I saw you last at Anthony’s Guimet exhibit. You must meet this ravishing new find I picked up at Basel. He’s very Warhol but in a pre-Factory sort of way. Eventually, I learned to tell if the ‘find’ was a seasoned showing artist or not- whether they’d learned to schmooze in that uniquely difficult Art World Way, towing the line between removed, obvious yet humble genius and ostentatious flattery. 

 

With that in mind, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I stepped into Fusion Arts’ open-plan, stripped down gallery space, located at 15 Park End Street. I was there to attend the preview of DEPOT ‘25, billed as a ‘pioneering art event in Oxford’ aiming to ‘revolutionise the local art scene by showcasing exceptional contemporary art in a culturally rich city easily accessible from London.’ Fusion Arts, a charity founded in 1977, is the direct antithesis of every interaction I’ve ever had with the Art World- its mission is to drive social and environmental justice by connecting artists and communities, making art accessible to all. They prioritise ‘people and groups who otherwise may not have access to or feel that there is a “place” for them in the arts.’

 

I was slightly skeptical of Fusion Arts’ mission at first. In my experience, even the most well intentioned art dealers, curators, gallerists and collectors have a hard time bringing art down to earth. Attempts at diversity and inclusion often fall embarrassingly flat. I once attended a benefit for Latino art in Harlem, the historical heart centre of New York City’s Latino communities. The number of Latino staff working at the benefit far outnumbered the number of Latino attendees. 

 

I entered the gallery to the sound of techno beats, provided by a DJ who had a ‘Free Palestine’ sticker on his laptop and a trans flag on his t-shirt. This definitely isn’t the Art World I know, I thought. I scanned the room, noting that, like most Art Events, baubley necklaces, eccentric glasses, and ballooning shirt-dresses enjoyed a fair amount of representation amongst the event’s attendees. But that wasn’t all I saw- I saw ordinary looking families with school-uniformed children in tow, gentlemen wearing plain suits, and gaggles of hipstery young people.

 

When I spoke to Kieran Cox, Fusion Arts’ Artistic Director, he was, like most Artistic Directors, being pulled in a hundred different directions. Wearing paint-stained jeans and a green cap proclaiming ‘I don’t work here’, he jovially explained that accessibility really is at the core of everything Fusion Arts does. ‘It’s nice to get contemporary art outside of London,’ he told me. The charity also prizes continuity with its artists, and feedback- a similar art fair was organised last year, with last year’s artists playing a large role in shaping this year’s programme. Throughout our conversation, at least five people interrupted with some mini-crisis for Kieran to solve- ‘this is what it’s really like!’ he grinned. I was struck by how kindly and jovially he responded to his colleagues, who seemed exhilarated rather than exhausted. The Art World is always frantic behind the scenes, but Fusion Arts’ staff room was a far cry from the many times I’ve found a junior gallerist sobbing in the women’s bathroom during a showing. People clearly love working at Fusion Arts.

 

Over the course of the evening, I spoke with art dealers, agents, artists, students, and buyers. I was, as I often am at these kinds of events, struck by the extent to which insiders don’t appreciate how inaccessible the Art World is. One man I spoke to- fittingly bespectacled in thick black glasses, topped with an actual beret on his bald head- owned his own dealership. When I asked him what advice he had for students looking to enter the Art World, his eyes seemed to glaze over as he implored me to ‘just get out there. Like, go to events and stuff. You wouldn’t BELIEVE the number of emails I get from people who’ve never been to a single event.’

 

I’m all for a bit of go-getting: I’ve been known to believe that sometimes boot-straps merit being pulled up a tad. The Art World, however, is full of people who – seemingly unwittingly – have had their boots laced up since birth. It’s a notoriously nepotism-driven industry. Nearly everyone I spoke to had family in the Art World, including the artists themselves. One of the artists showing was the notable abstract painter Roger Hilton’s grandson. When I asked him about accessibility and connections in the Art World, he seemed to dodge the question. ‘Instagram is really important,’ he admonished. ‘Definitely post consistently, even though it’ll rot your brain.’

 

In between copious amounts of networking, gossiping, and posturing, the Art World always manages to make room for The Art. So what was The Art at DEPOT ‘25? Provided by eight different exhibitors, I’d describe The Art on offer as eclectic: everything from a sculptural installation commenting on the small boats crisis, to demure, aesthetically pleasing abstractions of ‘The Girl With the Pearl Earring.’ The latter was aimed at exploring ‘the joys of colour’, as that particular artist informed me. I had the pleasure of speaking with several of the artists showing in the gallery, which is one of the pros of Art World events like these- to the average consumer of contemporary art, it’s vanishingly rare to be able to discuss a piece with its creator. I have no doubt that Fusion Arts has facilitated hundreds of such conversations for people who might otherwise not have been able to access them. 

 

Fusion Arts’ events are, at least in the material sense of the word, accessible. They are free, and seem to attract a wide range of community members. Within that range, however, there exists a clear delineation between insiders and outsiders. Art World hobnobbing is inescapable even when the theme is accessibility- there were lots of lots of Darlings! I haven’t seen you since… I even met a lady who knew my grandmother. 

 

In some ways, DEPOT ‘25 aims to fill an impossible, contradictory niche: bringing an inherently elitist industry down to earth. Most of The Art was for sale, with prices starting in the high hundreds and sitting comfortably in the thousands. Pricing in the Art World is a double-edged accessibility sword. Selling a painting by an emerging artist for a thousand pounds means the artist can have access to things like housing, food, and studio space. It also makes it inaccessible to the vast majority of people. You can open a gallery to the public, and emphasise your groundedness all you want, but there will still be a clear delineation between mere viewers and potential buyers.

 

I stepped away from DEPOT ‘25 with a largely positive impression. At least someone is trying to make the Art World accessible. After all, just as you can bring a horse to water but you can’t make it drink, you can bring a curator to SpecSavers, but you can’t make her take off her eccentric Gucci frames.

 

For more information about Fusion Arts and their mission, visit fusion-arts.org. 

 

Editor’s Note: some quotes have been edited for clarity.