“Polite, politus, polished. Smooth it all away, yes. Expunged. What the corps d’elite really care about is keeping things exactly as they are, because the way things are is jolly nice, thank you very much, it suits them very well.”

In Claire-Louise Bennett’s Big Kiss, Bye-Bye (2025), the protagonist expresses her frustration for social niceties. Yes, sure, these cues help us navigate the world and they keep us from each other’s throats. Yes, we are all very civilised. It is interesting to consider, however, as Bennett ponders, who created these codes, and who they ultimately serve and protect. Who’s neck is safe? Niceties are just that – nice. There isn’t much room for voicing anger, opposition or advocacy. You begin to feel caught in someone’s game. You don’t know how to win, you just know the rule book. When your world-weary friend revels in disguising a sassy reply to their boss in corporate speak, I’m not sure that’s the victory we celebrate it to be. After all, you can’t out bullshit a bullshitter – the email thread inevitably descends into professional verbal jousting and the stick-it-to-the-man high inevitably wanes.

Bennett’s narrator continues, “For the sake of balance I shall also venture that they’re not aware that they’re doing this – they are not doing it on purpose, it comes naturally. Totally ingrained.”

It is this position that Emma Quin’s framework for the exhibition MOTH operates. Considering these insects’ adaptability for survival, Quin asks what are the things that now come “naturally” and what forms of expression are they limiting? What are the invisible forces at work, shaping our behaviours, and what are we losing out on? Lynn-Marie Dennehey’s work is concerned with the grammar of these rules; the Greek and Roman aesthetic that is the backbone of European imperialism. Andrea Newman’s research demonstrates the policies that stratify our society and the active neglect that creates unfair class dynamics. Pádraig Spillane’s grid of photographs draws into question the nefarious forces of social media. Back in 2009, in what now feels like the dark ages, Hito Steryl proposed the idea that “social connection” proliferated through the “poor image”, documenting the rise of circulated online matter. Spillane’s images from his social media platform exist in an almost alternate universe, in 2026, against the shifting politics of image making and sharing in the Metaverse.

When thinking about the mediation of the self in Spillane’s work in particular, I began to consider how other spindly creatures adapt themselves in order to survive – artists. What are the codes artists perform and present as professionals in the world and online? What are the do’s and don’ts in this competitive capitalist context? I have collated what I hope is a helpful guide.

15 Modern Etiquette Rules for Artists in Ireland

1. Make sure to spit on paintings you dislike. No, it’s totally fine. They are just paintings and painters are weird and angry. Lean your elbows back and really hock it up. It is considered rude if your phlegm does not make a sound on impact. 
2. Reading an exhibition hand-out is frowned upon. You should ball the paper in your hand and stuff it in your jacket pocket. Alternatively, you may appear to peruse publicly should you find yourself being perceived but one should never engage with this material in private.
3. When addressed in a public forum, speak in a loud, authoritative voice and focus on incidents from your childhood. It is considered proper to overshare. It is impossible to take yourself too seriously.
4. Hold your knife in the right hand and the fork in the left hand when you are eating your rejection letters.
5. Upon receiving a rejection of any kind, always position yourself in opposition to said opportunity. Self style yourself as an anarchist. It is considered the highest courtesy to make this new stance public.
6. During periods of career frustration, it is appropriate to start a rumor that your friend is successful because people fancy them.
7. Make sure you use the word “play” in your artist statement. We are all having fun.
8. It is proper to have an enemy. You may select from a recent graduate, a scene darling, a faceless Instagram phantom, or one of the old guard. Bear your teeth when you smile at them and pray nightly for their downfall.
9. Artifex cave! Semper curatorem devora antequam curator te devorat. This is an oldie but a goldie – translates from Latin roughly as, “Artist beware! Always eat the curator before the curator eats you”.
10.  Never express an insecurity, it makes for boring conversation. Instead, make sweeping generalisations and re-invest in medium-specificity.
11. When sharing your “art journey”, never keep “the three things you tell yourself” to yourself.
12.  If someone asks you a question at a public event, first disagree with their framing of your practice. Once you have expressed your annoyance, proceed by neglecting to answer the question and by romanticising the struggle of your early career. When in doubt, assume everyone is a bad-faith actor. Particularly well-bred artists are known to strike the offending peer or member of the public.
13. If you suffer a minor inconvenience, take to Instagram immediately.
14. Always allude to financial precarity but never talk about money. This may seem like a contradiction but practice evasiveness through lack of eye-contact and vague idioms.
15. If you are sexy, pose next to your work.

 Sarah Long