“Pretendians” - Retro feminist surreal motel art - a Joan Seed cultural critique
A Love Letter from Joan:
Dear armchair explorer,
Human beings love to travel without ever leaving their certainties behind.
Give them a culture they barely understand and they will immediately find a way to turn it into a costume. Add a few feathers and a trailer disguised as a motel. The rest practically writes itself.
I confess I have a certain fondness for their efforts.
After all, we do not build fantasies out of things that leave us indifferent. Beneath this performance often lies something much simpler: a desire to go elsewhere and to move closer to what seems mysterious.
The problem, of course, is that real people rarely have the courtesy to resemble the characters we have invented for them.
I suppose every encounter begins with a story we tell ourselves. More often than not, trouble begins when the other person insists on helping write it.
Safe travels, my dear. Do try speaking to people before you start collecting them.
Joan
At first glance, Pretendians seems to tackle a familiar subject: cultural appropriation. Feathered headdresses, theatrical poses, and deliberately kitschy aesthetics combine to create a scene whose irony is impossible to miss. Yet the work appears equally interested in what fuels this gesture.
Through its staging emerges a broader question: what are we really seeking when we become fascinated by what feels foreign to us?
Everything in the image belongs to the realm of fantasy. A trailer transformed into a suggestively named motel promises adventure beneath a glowing sign crowned by a rocket. A sense of escape permeates the scene. The horse — evoking both open landscapes and childhood stories — nevertheless appears reduced, domesticated, almost decorative. The characters inhabit a world of simplified symbols, as though they belong more to a story than to a real place.
The discomfort associated with cultural appropriation may arise when that story begins to occupy all available space. The other risks becoming a projection, an image shaped by our expectations. Their complexity is reduced to a handful of immediately recognizable signs.
Fantasy does not simply say, “I already know who you are.”
It also whispers, “I choose who you will be in my story.”
The characters seem united by a shared fascination. Beneath the motel lights, they appear drawn toward something that extends beyond the set itself. Behind the costumes and simplified narratives lies perhaps a more fundamental desire: the desire to approach what remains unknown.
Like many fantasies, this one is born from genuine curiosity. The encounter itself has yet to happen.
This is perhaps where the work becomes most interesting. It does not entirely condemn fantasy — a refusal of overly simple answers that is hardly surprising in Seed’s work. After all, the stories we tell ourselves and the images that nourish our imagination are often our first contact with what lies beyond us. They awaken curiosity and set us in motion. Sometimes, they even become the starting point for a genuine desire to connect.
Here, the trailer takes on the appearance of a motel, another symbol of passage and movement. Nothing in the scene feels truly fixed. The rocket suggests departure as much as excitement. The horse evokes movement. The characters themselves seem to be on their way somewhere.
Between fantasy and encounter, no clear boundary is drawn.
Perhaps the real question is not why these characters are attracted to this imagined elsewhere, but what they will choose to do with it. At what point does a story become a relationship? At what point does an image cease to be enough?
After all, a motel is only a stop along the way.
The question is whether it is time to leave.
Drawing on American popular imagery, western iconography, and the language of tourism, Joan Seed explores the images we create around what feels unfamiliar to us. The characters in Pretendians inhabit a world where fantasy, role-playing, and cultural stereotypes coexist, revealing both our fascination with elsewhere and our tendency to simplify it.
As in much of her work, Seed uses humour and appropriation to examine the mechanisms of projection that shape the way we see others. Behind the costumes, glowing signs, and deliberately kitschy aesthetics emerges a reflection on how stories influence our relationship with difference.
The work invites us to consider what happens when those stories replace genuine encounter — or, conversely, become the beginning of a journey.
-Louis Morency
Title
Pretendians
Artist
Joan Seed
Medium
Mixed Media Collage
Edition
Limited edition prints, hand-signed and numbered by the artist.
Material
Museum-grade archival giclée print on textured cotton paper.
Available Sizes
30 × 30 inches (76.2 × 76.2 cm)
60 × 60 inches (152.4 × 152.4 cm)
Shipping
Flat rate of $175 CAD per order.
Acquisitions, Inquiries & Commissions
joan@joanseed.ca
© 2026 Joan Seed. All rights reserved. This artwork and its images may not be reproduced, copied, distributed, or used in any form without the prior written permission of the artist.
A Love Letter from Joan:
Dear armchair explorer,
Human beings love to travel without ever leaving their certainties behind.
Give them a culture they barely understand and they will immediately find a way to turn it into a costume. Add a few feathers and a trailer disguised as a motel. The rest practically writes itself.
I confess I have a certain fondness for their efforts.
After all, we do not build fantasies out of things that leave us indifferent. Beneath this performance often lies something much simpler: a desire to go elsewhere and to move closer to what seems mysterious.
The problem, of course, is that real people rarely have the courtesy to resemble the characters we have invented for them.
I suppose every encounter begins with a story we tell ourselves. More often than not, trouble begins when the other person insists on helping write it.
Safe travels, my dear. Do try speaking to people before you start collecting them.
Joan
At first glance, Pretendians seems to tackle a familiar subject: cultural appropriation. Feathered headdresses, theatrical poses, and deliberately kitschy aesthetics combine to create a scene whose irony is impossible to miss. Yet the work appears equally interested in what fuels this gesture.
Through its staging emerges a broader question: what are we really seeking when we become fascinated by what feels foreign to us?
Everything in the image belongs to the realm of fantasy. A trailer transformed into a suggestively named motel promises adventure beneath a glowing sign crowned by a rocket. A sense of escape permeates the scene. The horse — evoking both open landscapes and childhood stories — nevertheless appears reduced, domesticated, almost decorative. The characters inhabit a world of simplified symbols, as though they belong more to a story than to a real place.
The discomfort associated with cultural appropriation may arise when that story begins to occupy all available space. The other risks becoming a projection, an image shaped by our expectations. Their complexity is reduced to a handful of immediately recognizable signs.
Fantasy does not simply say, “I already know who you are.”
It also whispers, “I choose who you will be in my story.”
The characters seem united by a shared fascination. Beneath the motel lights, they appear drawn toward something that extends beyond the set itself. Behind the costumes and simplified narratives lies perhaps a more fundamental desire: the desire to approach what remains unknown.
Like many fantasies, this one is born from genuine curiosity. The encounter itself has yet to happen.
This is perhaps where the work becomes most interesting. It does not entirely condemn fantasy — a refusal of overly simple answers that is hardly surprising in Seed’s work. After all, the stories we tell ourselves and the images that nourish our imagination are often our first contact with what lies beyond us. They awaken curiosity and set us in motion. Sometimes, they even become the starting point for a genuine desire to connect.
Here, the trailer takes on the appearance of a motel, another symbol of passage and movement. Nothing in the scene feels truly fixed. The rocket suggests departure as much as excitement. The horse evokes movement. The characters themselves seem to be on their way somewhere.
Between fantasy and encounter, no clear boundary is drawn.
Perhaps the real question is not why these characters are attracted to this imagined elsewhere, but what they will choose to do with it. At what point does a story become a relationship? At what point does an image cease to be enough?
After all, a motel is only a stop along the way.
The question is whether it is time to leave.
Drawing on American popular imagery, western iconography, and the language of tourism, Joan Seed explores the images we create around what feels unfamiliar to us. The characters in Pretendians inhabit a world where fantasy, role-playing, and cultural stereotypes coexist, revealing both our fascination with elsewhere and our tendency to simplify it.
As in much of her work, Seed uses humour and appropriation to examine the mechanisms of projection that shape the way we see others. Behind the costumes, glowing signs, and deliberately kitschy aesthetics emerges a reflection on how stories influence our relationship with difference.
The work invites us to consider what happens when those stories replace genuine encounter — or, conversely, become the beginning of a journey.
-Louis Morency
Title
Pretendians
Artist
Joan Seed
Medium
Mixed Media Collage
Edition
Limited edition prints, hand-signed and numbered by the artist.
Material
Museum-grade archival giclée print on textured cotton paper.
Available Sizes
30 × 30 inches (76.2 × 76.2 cm)
60 × 60 inches (152.4 × 152.4 cm)
Shipping
Flat rate of $175 CAD per order.
Acquisitions, Inquiries & Commissions
joan@joanseed.ca
© 2026 Joan Seed. All rights reserved. This artwork and its images may not be reproduced, copied, distributed, or used in any form without the prior written permission of the artist.
“Pretendians” - Retro feminist surreal motel art - a Joan Seed cultural critique
