PRINT January 2007

Stuart Ringholt

WHEN I WAS INVITED to attend a “curatorial clinic” last year in Melbourne, Australia, I anticipated that the event, organized by curator Juliana Engberg, would satirically treat the primary psychological illness among curators overwhelmed by the excess of information in the art world: superficiality. In fact, this daylong therapy session featured a number of artists making earnest PowerPoint presentations about the state of contemporary art, seeking to help their curator colleagues gain deeper self-understanding. Standing apart, however, was a young artist from Perth, Australia, named Stuart Ringholt. Tall and skinny, with deep, penetrating eyes, he seemed both nervous and oddly calm and assured—a paradoxical person with traits of both analyst and analysand. Instead of giving a lengthy lecture, he pulled a number of things from his rucksack, like a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat.

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