Published Issue 130, October 2024
Many years ago, I went on a date with a closeted queer who was still figuring out what gender and sexuality meant to them. I, fully immersed in my own liberated inner — and mostly outer — identity, pursued them nonetheless. On our second date, we got on the bus at 10 p.m. and took it eastbound on North Avenue to the lake. It was late spring in Chicago and the weather was only just becoming ripe enough for a late night swim or spontaneous beach trip. On the way there, this person pulled out a piece of paper, folded it up four ways, handed me a marker, and said, “Draw something. Anything.” So I did. I doodled with the pink marker, they doodled, I doodled again, and when we unfolded it — it was a delightful monster. Imperfect and strange, yet tender and memorable. I still have the photo — and it remains one of my favorite memories of our relationship.
When the concept of “Exquisite Corpse” was brought up to me by Meow Wolf’s copywriter, artist extraordinaire, and brilliant human, Quinn Fati, I thought, Oh, that’s familiar. There’s something eerily relatable to it — this creation that is made up of other people’s ideas, thoughts, visions, experiences. As a concept, it is the exact definition of what being human really is, yet it’s much easier to call it art — or a monster — or a game — or an exquisite corpse. So what is it, anyway? An idea, a phenomenon, a subsect of the surrealist movement? All of the above, definitely.
The Museum of Modern Art says, “The game gained popularity in artistic circles during the 1920s when it was adopted as a technique by artists of the Surrealist movement to generate collaborative compositions.” It’s simple, really. Put a bunch of weirdos together and have them create whatever they want, let their imaginations run unconstrained. Meow Wolf already adapts this idea quite well, centering collaboration at the forefront of all their exhibitions. But what if it was elevated for Halloween? What if there were costume contests and workshops and parlor games that really asked you to perceive the world through not only your eyes and mind, but through everyone’s around you too?
What if you had to confront the infinite possibilities of yourself in this life? In another one? An alternative dimension? What if you were able to actually create and live as these infinite possibilities? What if this was the most horrifying thing you could do? To finally confront the endless ways that you exist? This is what this collaborative game of exquisite corpse is meant to do. This is what Meow Wolf’s Cosmic Howl is all about this year.
Cosmic Howl is a yearly event that takes Meow Wolf’s immersive experience and adds a splash of strange enchantment to the cauldron — with events, workshops and other special surprises on select dates in the spirit of October’s spooky season. It allows you to explore the multidimensional nature of self — your best version, future version, how many iterations exist in different dimensions and planets. It’s the moment to truly unleash all the ways that you exist. Quinn explained it very eloquently, “You can sit and try to figure yourself out as much as you want to but you have to figure out yourself as it’s reflected through others — yourself as the individual, yourself in community. You can recreate yourself over and over again but your point of reference is always seen through other people.”
There is a bridging between the ontological sense of self and the way others project onto you. André Breton, a surrealist painter, said, “In their proclivity for composition and subject, Exquisite Corpse drawings bring anthropomorphism to its extreme. They emphasize chance relationships, that which unites the interior and exterior worlds. They negate the frantic, derisory imitation of physical appearances, which is still the most prominent — and most contestable — part of contemporary art, and to which art remains anachronistically subject. May they oppose all those wholesome precepts of indocility that try to exclude humor, and find a less embryonic means.”
In other words, don’t look to the standard or what people expect. Resist the larger culture by showing up as you are and accentuating every part of you. When I think of my aforementioned relationship and the struggle to truly look at identity in the eye, I think of the monster we created and its freedom to exist just as it is: a frilly pink blob. Sometimes, it is much easier to show your truth through someone else seeing you first. Then slowly, it’ll all come out until everyone else does. See you (or another version of you) at Cosmic Howl this year!
Check out what’s Howlin’ at a Meow Wolf near you: Convergence Station in Denver, CO; House of Eternal Return in Santa Fe, NM; Omega Mart in Las Vegas, NV; and The Real Unreal in Grapevine, TX; Radio Tave in Houston, TX; and keep your eyes peeled for the upcoming Meow Wolf Los Angeles.
This feature was produced in partnership with Meow Wolf.
Rivka Yeker is a writer, event producer & Libra based in Chicago. They are the co-founder Hooligan Magazine & Hooligan Creative. They use they/them pronouns and pronounce their name like REEv-ka. See more of their work on their site and Instagram.
Check out Rivka’s last Birdy install, How Eras Inspire the Artist & How Art Inspires the Viewer, or head to our Explore section to see more of their past published pieces and Meow Wolf’s monthly installs.