Holding Space at Kunsthalle Exnergasse, Vienna

If it was a singular word, ‘Holding Space’ may well have been in the running to be 2024’s Word of the Year, after the bizarre way in which it cropped up in interviews with Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo during the press junket for the Wicked film. The phrase was memed to within an inch of its life, before being mocked mercilessly (mostly by the same group of people that routinely call others ‘Woke’ and ‘snowflakes’ in derogatory sneers) and in the popular imaginary, the phrase has been abandoned like roadkill.

Of course, this was not the birth story of the phrase ‘holding space’, which by definition is an allocation and allowance of mental, emotional, sometimes physical space given to someone who might need someone to talk to, or to listen. In practice, this will range from basic forms of care to more significant levels of support, which in these times of hustle, isolation, and alienation, feel like a luxury. 

Installation view: Holding Space, Kunsthalle Exnergasse, Vienna. 13 March - 26 April 2025. Photo: kex - Wolfgang Thaler

Having opened in March 2025, the group exhibition Holding Space at Kunsthalle Exnergasse in Vienna would have been planned long before the eponymous phrase went viral in November 2024. Contrary to any bait content, the exhibition looks at ways in which we hold each other through life’s various stages and challenges. While this feels a little cosy and granular, in practice the ideas presented by the different artists are fascinating, challenging, and most importantly, exemplary models. There are so many writers, thinkers and artists pointing towards revolutionary concepts, but until we see them in practice, sometimes it is difficult to find the direction for ourselves, beyond utopian thinking.

Still: Every Ocean Hughes, One Big Bag, 2021. HD video, 40’20”. Courtesy of the artist.

The role of the doula is the central point of reference in this exhibition, most notably referred to in Every Ocean Hughes’ 2021 video piece, One Big Bag. Collective ‘What Would a HIV Doula DO?’ define the doula as “someone who holds space at times of transition” [1]. Many will recognise the figure as someone who supports people giving birth, but less well known (in the West) is the death doula. Hughes’ film follows, somewhat frantically, a practitioner in this field as they explain the process of their role in painstaking detail. Interestingly, the mundane tasks undertaken (so to speak) by the death doula are not overlooked; instead, we are walked through the process, and the calmness by which the protagonist speaks about death feels soothing in itself. The process feels natural, ordered, and at times lightly amusing. Essentially, it is a deeply human take on something that will make most viewers feel uncomfortable: the reality of confronting death. Hughes’ doula offers us the opportunity to let go of any negative feelings and place the responsibility of easing into the next life into the hands of a professional figure, who is both warm and efficient.

Ozlem Altin, Untitled (alignment, blessing), 2025. Inkjet print, ink and oil on canvas, 140cm x 300cm. Courtesy of the artist and THE PILL, Istanbul and Paris. 

Merging emotion, feelings, sensation and comfort is something the exhibition does really well. German and Turkish artist Ozlem Altin welcomes the viewer into the space with the large-scale mixed media work Untitled (alignment, blessing), documenting the late stage of pregnancy into childbirth. Unlike the doula role of other works, Altin’s piece is a creative documentation of her experience supporting a close friend through childbirth. The outsider perspective is intriguing in its position of proximity, intimacy, and distance. There is no professional insight, no personal experience of giving birth, just the visual and creative remnants of the emotional support that the artist has provided to her friend. Friendship is something that is increasingly hard to define and elaborate upon in the times we are living through, but Altin has shown how strongly this kind of platonic support is needed through life’s most significant milestones. This seems obvious, but society’s focus on financial gain and romantic relationships often leaves people floundering on the importance of friendship in adulthood.

Finnegan Shannon, Wooden bench, 2018. Bench design and production: Aito (Jakob Posch and Elena Cooke). Courtesy of the artist and Deborah Schamoni.

We really need to talk about New York-based artist Finnegan Shannon, whose wooden bench sculpture as part of their ongoing series, Do you want us here or not, highlights the ableist conditions prevalent in public spaces. A simplicity that draws the right amount of attention to fatigue in everyday life for those that experience it. Emily Watlington wrote for Artnews that Shannon’s work puts institutional repair into practice, rather than mere ‘critique’. Practical and straight to the solution, all the while filled with a practice fuelled by care for oneself and others. Perfection.

In a world that is largely in (ableist) denial about the social, medical, and material changes brought about by the pandemic, which now had its nascent stage half a decade ago, Holding Space reinforces the need to maintain (consensual!) physical connections with each other. This is not at all in reference to romantic love or sex, instead reminding us that we are profoundly reliant upon mutual support and space for listening and caring for one another. It is more organised than it seems, however; Hughes’ doula (although depicted by an actor, is representative of real work) is fully prepared for the work they need to do. Their professionalism, supplies, and particular personality traits make them an optimal comforter of a person at the last stages of life, and their loved ones beginning the journey of grief. Similarly, Altin’s emotional labour of supporting a friend through childbirth was not something she decided to do on the day; the groundwork of love and support is a life’s work, but should not be perceived as laborious. Shannon’s piece, and ongoing body of work, has likely been catalysed by repeated frustrations at accessibility issues in public and institutional spaces. The groundwork of these acts of care have to be planted thoughtfully and with intention. Some may still scoff at the term ‘holding space’, now that it has been misappropriated and pilloried in popular culture, but without producing (at times basic) care for each other, we resign ourselves to standing by and watching as time and lives slip through our fingers.

[1] https://hivdoula.work/

Holding Space, a group exhibition. 13 March - 26 April 2025. Kunsthalle Exnergasse, Vienna. wuk.at/kunsthalle-exnergasse

With thanks to Painting Diary who hosted me as Writer in Residence in April 2025 in Vienna, which enabled me to visit incredible exhibitions such as that at Kunsthalle Exnergasse.