January 23, 2021 - We have a photography editor! His name is Adrian Moens.

"If a photograph is perceived a certain way or elicits an emotional response, then that's the value of the artwork ––– the response that it creates,

Art should always be accessible, and as an artist,

I'm merely taking energy and exchanging it for another form. It's not my work; it's god's work. And I'm merely a conduit for something larger than myself."

Curlew Quarterly is getting an upgrade! Having worked with Adrian Moens since November of 2017, I’m thrilled to share that he has recently began working as our photography editor. Along with Emily Fishman and Alexandra Bildsoe, Moens’ photography has appeared in nearly every issue of Curlew Quarterly to date; including but not limited to, photographs and portraits of Mervyn Taylor (Issue No. 2 – Autumn 2017), Tess Congo (Issue No. 3 - Winter 2017-18); as well as In the Shadow of Immovable Object, a photo essay of the Brooklyn Queens Expressway, which also appeared in Issue No. 3 – Winter 2017-18.

Moens grew up in Ashland, Oregon and studied at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. While living in Chicago, he worked at the Museum of Contemporary Art as well as within the interior design industry. Almost five years ago, as his career evolved, he decided to move to New York.
           
We spoke last week by Zoom, and when asked about what he think of first when he thinks about New York, he didn't hesitate with his response. “Immediately I think about struggle,” he said. “Because I think this is a challenging place to live.” After reflecting on the journey of his last five years here, he then parried that idea of struggle against one of the main factors that brings people to New York in the first place.

“Alongside that struggle,” he said, “I think of reward, because New York is a rewarding place to live. The people and the communities that are living here together create a significant and distinct bond. And I think it’s something that exists in other places, but in my experience, New York has proliferated that experience in a way that’s unique.”
           
Although the editorial voice and cadence of our photography will be Moens', when we spoke this past Wednesday, he made it clear that he leaves it upon his photographs to speak for themselves. “The most important part of a piece of artwork is the viewer’s perspective, not the artist’s.” When I asked him to elaborate on this idea, he spoke of a photograph’s –––– or any piece of artwork's ability (or inability) -–– to evoke a response. "If a photograph is perceived a certain way or elicits an emotional response, then that's the value of the artwork, the response that it creates," and he offered. “Art should always be accessible, and as an artist, I'm merely taking energy and exchanging it for another form. It's not my work; it's god's work. And I'm merely a conduit for something larger than myself."

The full interview appears below. And for the record: Thank you, Adrian. I look forward to our continued collaboration, and am grateful for your energy, eye, and talent.

All of my best,
- Isaac Myers III

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Adrian: I think the most important part of a piece of artwork is the viewer's perspective, not the artist's perspective. So if a photograph or a piece of writing is perceived a certain way or elicits an emotional response, then that's the value of the artwork –––– the response that it creates. When I take a photograph, my obligation is done the moment that I turn it over to the world. 

C.Q.: Have you always felt that way? 

Adrian: I think it took me a while after art school, just to deprogram myself. I graduated in 2008, and I had a pretty different perspective on how I wanted to make art and what I wanted art to do. But I do feel like it has always been and will always be a shared experience.

I feel like art should always be accessible, at least in some way, but only recently did I really feel like I don't particularly own the artwork, but that my body is a medium or a vessel for creativity, and I'm merely taking energy and exchanging it for another form. 

It's god's work; that's the easiest way for me to put it. I'm merely a conduit for something larger than myself. That's often times how I feel about things that I make. With that said, I love the things that I make, for the most part; but the thing that I love the most about it is making it. The feeling of making something is such a beautiful feeling. 

C.Q.: The process.

Adrian: Absolutely, the process of making something; which encompasses a lot of different emotions, including difficult emotions like frustration and anger. There could be a lot wrapped up within me when I feel like the process isn't going the way that I want it to go. But a lot of it is about abandoning my will and letting the thing evolve and come out in its own terms; or in terms that are not my own. Whatever terms those are, I can't say. That's the process that I've used over the last four or five years.

C.Q.: That's fairly recent. 

Adrian: It is fairly recent. I like to think of it in terms that allow me to realize that art making is an enriching experience. It's an experience that enriches my life through the process of making it, and once I let it go, or let it go out into to the world, then I would hope that it enriches other people's lives, but my responsibility to it at that point is gone, in some ways.  

C.Q.: That makes sense. Thank you for sharing that. Just to change gears a bit, what do you think about first when you think about New York? 

Adrian: Oh gosh, immediately I think about struggle. Because I think this is a challenging place to live. And alongside that, I think of reward, because I think it's a rewarding place to live. The people and the communities that are living here together create a significant and distinct bond. And I think it’s something that exists in other places, but in my experience, New York has proliferated that experience in a way that’s unique.

C.Q.: Any other words, or ideas? 

Adrian: Another word that comes up immediately is success. Because I think it's a place where a lot of people land with an idea about, as well as an expectation about what success is; because it's a city where people become successful. I think that little bundle of words, thoughts, and feelings pretty much sums up an experience here in New York, definitely the one that I've had, and one that I feel a lot of people have here.  

C.Q.: If the reward and the success never come, and struggle and challenge persist, how does someone know when to stay or when to go? Or how have you made these decisions; when do you tap out? 

Adrian: My experience with New York City prior to moving here was through visiting friends who have had the same challenging experience –––– expecting success and not being rewarded, which lasted four or five years. I've had a couple of friends go through that process. They land here, they get their feet on the ground, get a little taste of having two or three part-time jobs and living in an apartment that they share with three other people, and not being able to move past that.

So the acid test for me has been, ‘Can I outlast those who have not survived before me?' Those people I know whose experiences I have to compare. So here I am on year five, having had a few jobs, but for the most part being gainfully employed, and having had a moderate amount of success, in both career and creative pursuits. So I feel like by my gauge I have overcome my expectations for that challenge.

Being able to find those things here; though they haven't been easy ––– I've certainly faced some challenges –––– I do feel like I've succeeded. That was my goal, to get beyond those four or five years, and those experiences of the people I knew who moved here. 

C.Q.: It's amazing how quickly four or five years can pass here. 

Adrian: Definitely. It flew by.