Teri Hoskin has worked in the visual arts since the 80’s as an artist, curator and writer, publisher, designer and educator. She was the editor, designer and coder for the eWRe (the electronic writing research ensemble) a web-based project that operated from 1997-2006 ensemble.va.com.au. Teri has published essays and reviews widely in art journals and magazines since the early 90’s. Curator, project manager and designer for the Australian Experimental Art Foundation from 2008-2010, a peripheral lecturer in visual art theory, architectural and design theory, and media, she wrote/made a doctoral thesis in architecture and design because visual arts doesn’t have a natural affinity with philosophy and she wanted to think about the embodied spatial effects of technicity as an act of writing. Since 2011 she’s taken a long break from the visual arts in its public mode, lived in Sydney house-sitting, house-sharing, testing ways to live on very little, made art with no desire to exhibit, returned home to Adelaide and mostly stayed away from the ‘cultural sector’. It’s a personal decision to reconnect with making art, because in as much as the value of art is implicit to life, the art machine, the market, the co-opting of art by consumerism and life-style marketing, had taken away the quiet joy, the mad excess, and the incendiary capacity of art as a force for change. In 2015 she curated a few local artists to present their practice as part of a screening of NYC’s Creative Time’s annual Summit at Venice Biennale. The curatorial focus for the Adelaide event was precarity (in labor as in life), and attention, how attention is paid to the small stuff, the in-between and covered-over, as a political act of some force.
In keeping with her commitment to live on little (in the way of material things) she’s about to undertake a year long residency/retreat in an artist’s house/property in the Adelaide Hills where she will get to know two dorper wethers (sheep with black faces and white bodies that shed their hair), consider her relationship with snakes, write a book of non-linear philosophy dedicated to catastrophe and its aftermath, and make marks with colours. The artist who made the substantial property her own called herself a fire goddess. As a being somewhat intellectual I’m not sure what that means, maybe I’ll find out.