I haven't written in my blog for awhile. This makes sense, considering that the class this was originally intended for concluded more than a year ago. However, since I have already acquired the domain name, I might as well use it for something practical or enlightening.
So for a present purpose, I'll use my blog to document my process of eliminating TV from my life. I'm starting out small, going with just a week at first. For this week, starting tomorrow, (March 12-March 19) I will cease all television watching. I am not only referring to watching TV itself, but all television programming. This is because my main source of television watching actually comes from web-based hosts, such as Hulu. This is because I don't actually own a TV. However, I cannot make an exception for this medium, because it's more about TV shows than TV itself.
My one exception is for educational programming, such as documentary TV shows. This doesn't mean that I'm going to be watching Ice Road Truckers or The Deadliest Catch or some show about pawn shops. I'm making an exception for any TV program that is posted online for free because of its educational merit. I am also not including educational films.
I will try to update my progress as frequently as I can without devoting too much time to using my computer. I will provide details as to what I'm doing in place of watching television.
I am hoping that by doing this I can expose how deceivingly difficult it is to eliminate the habit of watching TV and provide an example for others to follow who wish to rid their lives of the addictive habit as well. Wish me luck.
This makes me think about the reading we were assigned in class by James Elkins, "Just Looking." One observation that he makes is that looking could also be perceived as a predatory act, as though we are hunting with our eyes. He takes the example of looking through a glass counter at a row of watches. While it may seem like an innocent act of browsing, we already have a image of exactly what we want in our minds and are in pursuit of perfection. This enables us to disregard the other hundreds of watches in the case and target that specific one we have our minds set on. This can also mean that we see only what we want to see; anything that doesn't match our perceived image is disregarded.
We live in a consumer society which has become conditioned to this consumer mentality; to hunt with our eyes. Unfortunately, this practice has so engulfed our lives that for many of us it has carried over into the way we view art. Art is no longer seen, but consumed like a product. We pay a fee to enter a museum with the clear objective to consume art. We stroll through the various galleries, using our eyes like a visual vacuum, sucking in as much as we can. As a consumer of art, the aesthetics of the work become unimportant and and is supplanted by the need to take in. When people go to the Louvre Museum to see the Mona Lisa, they are probably not there to appreciate its beauty. It is a small painting covered in thick plexiglass and unless you have the incredible opportunity to handle it palpably, you can probably find a superior quality image of it on an art database. In reality, most people go to see the Mona Lisa only to say that they have seen the Mona Lisa.
What you think you're seeing when you visit the Mona Lisa at the Louvre.
What you actually see when you visit the Mona Lisa in the Louvre.
Sometimes there are so many items to inspect that we don't give them the attention they deserve. The Jordan Schnitzer Art Museum is a very reasonably sized gallery right here on campus with a great collection of Asian art. Since I was also enrolled this quarter in a class on the history of Chinese art, I have found the eastern Asian art collection to be of special interest. However, the main exhibit currently on display merges art and consumerism in an appropriate blend of activism and aesthetics.
Light Bulbs, 2008 72x96"
Depicts 320,000 light bulbs, equal to the number of kilowatt hours of electricity wasted in the United States every minute from inefficient residential electricity usage (inefficient wiring, computers in sleep mode, etc.).
Chris Jordan's exhibit, Running the Numbers forces us take a closer look at the work, causing us to realize not only our relationship with art, but to products we consume as well. The statistics he presents are staggering, but are made all the more astonishing when they are accompanied by visual representations of that statistic. When I look at the work in his exhibit, I feel as though I am seeing both products and art simultaneously. Representing a number and using multiples to create an overall composition can have a powerful effect on the viewer.
Cans Seurat, 2007 60x92" Depicts 106,000 aluminum cans, the number used in the US every thirty seconds.
Each image immediately engages the viewer with its title. Each title is labeled with a description of what it depicts--a rational statistic that immediately demands of the viewer to engage in the piece not only aesthetically, but logically as well. This suggests not only its use but also provides a justification of its existence. The work demands a response from the viewer, implying that passively observing is not an option. Once the viewer's attention has been seized, their face is already drawn in close to the image simply by way of having to read the description of the image. This allows her to immediately address the details before working steadily away from the image to reveal an overall composition of a familiar image. The composition of the overall abstraction that is comprised of the familiar image of a consumer product creates a mental image that becomes embedded in the mind.
Barbie Dolls, 2008 60x80" Depicts 32,000 Barbies, equal to the number of elective breast augmentation surgeries performed monthly in the US in 2006.
While perhaps being political or social in nature, these works are also aesthetically beautiful, thus creating tension for the viewer. A confusion created because we are normally use to seeing activism communicated in such a dry manner. However, Running the Numbers proves that both can exist simultaneously.
This is the last official post that I am making for this blog that is related to this art class that I've taken. I will still continue to use this blog to discuss what I'm working on and new art-related insights. Without the limitations placed upon me by the academic context of this blog, I will have more flexibility to discuss purely what interests me.
The theme that I am focusing on with this entry is the idea of repetition. If we address repetition in history, we can see that all history consists of are the same mistakes repeated infinitely throughout all civilization. If one day all human beings are wiped off the planet by some natural disaster and are replaced millions of years later with different sentient beings, chances are that they will make mistakes and repeat them, too.
But I am referring to repetition as it relates to contemporary art, not history (which could be discussed in that context ad infinitum). To me, repetition is a characteristic that is distinctive to contemporary art. It indicates the separation art has made between modern and contemporary. Having multiples of one product eliminates the exclusivity of a work, allowing art to become more accessible to the masses, a sharp detour from the exalted status that art has occupied for the last thousand years or so. In other words, multiples democratize art collection. Though these classifications of modern and contemporary may seem arbitrary, I only refer to them so as to distinguish multiples apart from other ways of doing art.
Brian Gillis, a professor from the ceramics department, gave a lecture to the class on Tuesday about multiples. A multiple is the result of repetition. He also continued on to discuss what a multiple was. He provided the definition of a multiple from Webster's dictionary:
mul·ti·ple: containing more than once, or more than one; consisting of more than one; manifold; shared by many; repeated many times; having several, or many, parts.
-Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, 1998
A dictionary definition is always a good place to start if you want to know the meaning of a word. However, a more concise definition as it relates to art would be an editioned original. Multiples can come in many mediums, such as clay, metal, glass, and print, but it has to be part of a set.
Perhaps the most famous application of this idea was in the work of Marcel Duchamp. Duchamp's Readymades were simply constructed by attaching mass-produced, ordinary objects in an unusual composition and by doing so, rendering them unfunctional. His first ands most well-known readymade was Bicycle Wheel, which was basically a bicycle wheel attached to a stool. By doing so, the artist detracted the value of the work as art and sought to embrace the reaction of the viewer. What makes this a multiple is the fact that the Bicycle Wheel currently in the Museum of Modern Art collection is not the original version made in 1913 but is in fact a reproduction manufactured in 1951 after the first one was lost. Knowing this information emphasizes the idea that the work itself was not as important as preserving the idea or the experience it creates for the viewer, thus subverting the notion of hierarchy.
(Note: I personally feel that in art theory discourse, the word, "subvert" gets used far too often to the point of cliche. However, sometimes it is the most appropriate word to describe something. However, I care about your feelings, so I will attempt to use it sparingly.)
There are many more examples of multiples in contemporary art that I can't even begin to provide as many examples as I would like, but some other work that really caught my attention was Merda d'Artista by Piero Manzoni. The name of his work translates to English as "Artist's Shit," which is exactly what it is. It is pretty self-explanatory what this work is: Manzoni took his own shit and sealed it in a can then sold each can as an edition priced the same as gold. There's nothing more obvious that can be said of this work except that by doing this he draws attention to the artist as creator instead of the work. For a high price, you can have a piece of the artist ('s shit) in your collection.
One more work from Professor Gillis' lecture that I would like to distinguish is a work by Antony Gormley titled Field. In this series, he recruited help wherever from the local population wherever the project took place to manufacture simple clay figures and when finished placed these figures throughout the gallery space, overwhelming the space it occupies but leaving the viewing space completely empty.
Artist Gabriel Orozco is also fascinated with the idea of multiples and the mechanical process of producing one. One of his works called La D.S. is an automobile, one of the strongest symbols of manufacturing, whose center has been removed from the vehicle and the sides reattached. The result is a hybrid of characteristics that make the car seem both manufactured and original in this form and is recognized as both familiar yet foreign. His engagement in working with this manufactured product opens new understanding into the creation of multiples.
Orozco also addresses this notion of multiples in his photographs. In his photograph, Cats and Watermelon, his juxtaposition of manufactured objects with organic ones creates a strange tension, as though they are not supposed to be seen together. However, it's their out-of-place-ness that generates a fresh way of seeing.
Finally, the last artist that we are looking at is Justin Novak. Novak is a former professor in the ceramics department at the University of Oregon but has moved onto teaching at Emily Carr University in Vancouver, B.C. We did not talk about Novak very often in class, but one of his works that interests me the most is 21st Century Bunny. The ceramic bunny figure stands vigilantly erect with paranoid eyes, reflecting a common sentiment of suspicion that is pertinent to 21st century feelings toward the future. Choosing to mass-produce this figure and make it available to the public further asserts its modernity by using manufacturing as a form of communication to the masses.
The lectures this week were the most inspirational for me because they resonated so well with how I already approach my art. I have always been interested in the idea of manufactured objects and multiples, as well as my own responses toward manufactured goods. I have always been disenchanted with the impersonality of galleries and the inherent hierarchy that the art world seems compelled to preserve. I am not so avid in the idea of preciousness, and having worked in an art gallery, was the manner in which any work we handled was treated. Having your very own piece of an artist's work eliminates the inclination to treat it preciously (though if you appreciate the work and you own it, it serves you well to treat it respectfully) and connects you not only with the artist but also with the process in a most intimate way. I would like to leave you with a quote from Gabriel Orozco, which isn't related very much to multiples, but who inspires me nonetheless to emulate his way of viewing the world, especially when I am about to embark on a trip to Cuba. Advice like this will prove essential to my outlook when journeying across unfamiliar territory:
I like to work here, I like to walk. Wakes me up. Just a few blocks of walking can happen many things, and I like to observe these things, to enjoy them. The camera is an instrument I like to use, an excuse for looking at these things. So the camera is a way of awareness.
I don't have a studio, so I don't have a specific place of production. I found that sometimes the studio's an isolated place and an artificial place, like a bubble, but i'm not so interested because i think it gets out of reality. What happens when you don't have a studio is that you have to be confronted with reality all the time, you have to be in the streets, you have to walk around, you have to be outdoors.
I try to be intimate with everything i can. To be intimate you have to open yourself, and you have to trust what is around you, and then you generate signs of intimacy with these things, and then all the other people can have that same relationship with the world.
I don't have a technique. I have many different ways to work, but when i finish something i need to invent something else, in a different medium, in a different place.
-Gabriel Orozco, Art21
Thank you for reading, Best Wishes,
Andrew Grant
P.S. On an unrelated note, junk mail has started arriving at my apartment addressed to "Andre LaGuire." Maybe it's for the previous occupant, or perhaps it's a typo in some computer database. Either way, it sounds pretty cool and would make a great artist name for myself. Don't steal it, it's mine.
I don't mean outer space, although in the abstract sense that could apply to what I'm writing about.
This week our class has focused on sculpture. To me, sculpture is the most versatile medium because anything, really, can be considered sculpture. What provides sculpture with this distinction is depth; no longer considering the work in the confines of two-dimensionality gives the viewer the ability to not only address the singular work but to consider the area surrounding the piece as well.
Consider the work, "Untitled" (1961), by Robert Ryman. While this work could be considered a "painting" in the traditional sense, I would consider it as sculpture. If you look closely, throughout the work are sculptural elements: paint laid on thick enough to catch the light and give the paint depth. Loose threads of canvas smothered beneath the paint. Lack of a distinct border. All these attributes give this work a sculptural element.
Would the effect really be the same if this work were being viewed as a flat, two-dimensional piece? Unfortunately, since this is a blog and you view these words that I'm writing in the two-dimensional environment of your computer monitor, this is the only way you are capable of viewing it. Looking at pictures of work is not a sufficient substitute for seeing the real piece, especially in the context of sculpture. The addition of the extra dimension allows the viewer to experience the piece not only as a singular entity, but to also take into account the surrounding area of the piece to make sense of it in new terms. Modern art museums emphasize the way in which the work is experienced, making the environment that the piece is in that much more important. Every work of art in a museum like the MoMA is thoughtfully placed in its environment, with meticulous effort taken to make sure that its placement in the space is restricted to the artist's specifications.
Tuesday's lecture was presented by professor Amanda Wojick representing the sculpture department. For her presentation, she showed us sculptural work from 9 different women from 9 different decades. Why specifically women artists, I'm not sure of. I understand that women artists have been marginalized in history, but I was curious to find out if women offered a unique perspective of sculpture. I wanted to ask her this in class but I felt that if I did, I would get backlash from classmates for even inquiring.
Wojick emphasized one female sculptor in particular: Louise Bourgeois. Considered to be one of the most important sculptors of the 20th century, Bourgeois constantly addresses themes of innocence and sexuality, drawing on experiences from her childhood, which help to inform her work. Her pieces are dark and melancholy, usually shades of monochrome, and are built on the scale of being both monumental and domestic, such as in the case of “Cell (Glass Spheres and Hands)” (shown below). Her sculpture of a giant spider called "Maman" takes on a rough, unrefined look and recalls to mind something that might be seen in a nightmare. The name of the work and what it actually represents creates conflict. The word "maman", which is supposed to conjure up feelings of warmth and comfort, are attributed to this behemoth spider figure, suggesting a traumatic event that may have occurred between the artist and her own mother.
"Spider" at Tate Modern, London.
Sculpture as seen outside The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain.
The sculpture "Maman" standing outside of The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa, Ontario.
It was beneficial to observe the work done by prominent female artists not only for gaining an understanding of the female perspective but also to provide the reference point for work that is the exact opposite: strongly forceful, masculine sculpture by the likes of artist Richard Serra.
Richard Serra could be considered the complete polar opposite to Louise Bourgeois. While her work represents the feminine, his is masculine. While hers is representational, Serra's work embodies the absract. While Bourgeois' work is deeply personal, Serra's work embodies general/universal themes. His focus is not so much on the subject matter but is heavily focused on using/understanding space.
Serra's work cannot be fully appreciated just by looking at it: It must be experienced. This is why it is difficult to discuss his work in this blog. You be unable to understand the monumentality of his pieces unless you experience them in person. I have had the privilege of seeing a number of his pieces in real life and when I saw them I felt that they were big, powerful, and overwhelming. They are huge, heavy sheets of steel and just by looking at them, one can feel their mass. Since they take the shape of waves, they also seem light and flowing.
The closest to actually "experiencing" his pieces in this blog is by viewing this video below. This video is a virtual walkthrough of one of his pieces titled "Band," which was on display at MoMA in New York:
The last essay that we were assigned to read by Professor Ty seemed like a very appropriate text to end the quarter with. It utilized our understanding of looking, which we have developed and refined throughout this course. After all, we have to refine our way of looking in order to understand the mediums afresh, pushing the limits of our conventional thinking to approach materials from an artistic perspective. The main point emphasized by James Elkins essay, "Just Looking," was that there is no such thing as "just looking." Throughout the essay, he reveals to the reader how this concept is hopelessly inadequate. He starts out with the sentence "The observer looks at the object." And from that point begins to dismantle its meaning to the core with the end goal of completely subverting its meaning. Simply by taking a seemingly straightforward idea and provoking a discourse, he starts to dismantle it, even if he does not come to a direct conclusion.
There are some observations that I made in reading James Elkins "Just Looking". James Elkins goal with this essay is to make you think about looking. In this mission, he also reveals to the reader just how little looking is actually done, and what we believe to be looking actually isn't looking. I always considered myself to be a keen observer, but after reading this I realized that so frequently I fail to actually observe in the manner that he is attempting provoke.
In yesterday's class, we had a pleasant diversion from our usual routine of sitting in the lecture hall. Professor Ty took the whole class, all 200 or so of us, out of the classroom and on a short excursion to observe a sculpture behind the Lillis Business Complex. I have frequently seen this piece on my way to class or between classes, but never really "seen" it. After being brought to this particular location with the explicit purpose of having us look at it, it made me realize just how little I pay attention to my surroundings. The piece is called Wind Fence. It made a gentle ringing sound as the individual metal shingles swayed in the wind, creating organic patterns that flowed across the surface of its mechanical facade. Like the wind passing through the tiles, so also, the path to the Lillis building passes underneath the sculpture, forcing the viewer to not only see the piece but to participate with it as well. Academics take up such a prominent part of the time on campus, many of us fail to realize the impact that this simple act of looking can have on campus. I have always considered myself especially observant, but even I failed to see many of the sculptures that are dispersed throughout campus. This is disgraceful. The university is usually seen as a place of business, and the general mindset of productivity fails to recognize the importance of looking. When in school mode, it is very easy for a student to passively embrace the campus.
This is the last official blog post for the class. Writing these has been quite helpful in increasing my understanding of media, and has been a useful tool in articulating my thoughts about work. Writing in a blog provides practice in discussing art which, if I have intentions of entering an artistic profession, I will be doing a lot of. For more credit I will be writing extra blog posts about special topics this week. Be sure to "look" for them.
The word, "craft," has often been diminished in importance by popular culture and reduced to being loosely associated with hobby. The stereotype regarding craft is that one passively engages their work and that it doesn't necessarily require any creativity. It is often derided as being inferior to "art." Instead of seeing craft as separate from art, I see it as a necessary preparation, the training aspect of creativity. For the visual artist, it helps to strengthen the mind, sharpen the eyes, and develop the discipline to persevere with a task until the goal has been achieved.
Many of the artists and themes that we have explored this week would be arbitrarily categorized by some as "craft." After further exploration, however, we come to recognize the artistic value the work has and that this subversive categorization could not be further from the truth.
On tuesday the class was treated to a terrific guest lecture by Anya Kivarkis, a professor from the jewelry and metalsmithing department. Prior to this lecture, my understanding of jewelry making was very limited, other than being seen as a superfluous luxury and a pleasant gesture of love. In fact, most of the work that professor Kivarkis presented was not jewelry in the traditional sense of being luxury items, but instead addresses methods of production and ideas about luxury using jewelry. It is jewelry that comments on jewelry.
Gijs Bakker created a series of work that subverts the idea of luxury. In his Real Series, he takes pieces of real jewelry and from that design creates a larger-sized replica of the piece from costume jewelry. The smaller real piece of jewelry is then placed on top of the costume jewelry. The larger piece suggests that it is more important, even though the smaller piece contains authentic gemstones. This juxtaposition of these two pieces of jewelry, one "real" and one "fake," forces the viewer to place arbitrary value on the pieces and to determine which one is the valuable one, the "real" jewelry, or the costume jewelry replica created by the artist?
This other artist doesn't necessary work in the same medium but still addresses the same idea of value in his work. Kaz Oshiro paints replicas of ordinary objects that are nearly indistinguishable from the objects being copied. These ordinary objects, often overlooked in real life, are endowed with greater value once the viewer acknowledges it as a copy. The object is made of a different material than the original and lacks functionality, yet despite this, it is more valuable than the object that it copies because of the realization that it is a work of art. The object reveals a process and the focus emphasizes the the artist more than the object. When this ordinary object is encountered again in everyday life, the viewer may observe it closer this time.
Another artist that we have observed over the last week is John Feodorov. Born of Polish and Navajo descent, Feodorov is highly influenced by his conflicting heritage and explores the idea of spirituality in his work. Much of his work takes Navajo folklore and traditions and puts a contemporary spin on it. Feodorov describes his own work as "artifacts of contemporary desperation--a search for a Something, an Other, that may or may not exist." His Totem Teddies represent this spiritual conflict. While the bear symbolizes power and dignity in many native cultures, it has been castrated of its dignity in the contemporary form of a teddy bear and has transformed into a cute and cuddly commodity. In an effort to reinstate some of its lost dignity, Feodorov instills spiritual qualities into the teddies in an attempt to regain some of their lost dignity. However, despite his attempts, the whole prospect also seems desperate and hopeless because they are still teddy bears and in that form cannot possess qualities of power and dignity.
A video work by Feodorov presents a common issue in contemporary society and attempts to rectify it through traditional spiritual means. In his video, "Office Shaman," Feodorov takes a common issue in contemporary society, workplace productivity, and attempts to find a spiritual solution to it through traditional shamanistic ritual reformatted for the work environment. The result is humorous but also desperate in that it is aware of its own desperation. This causes one to question whether by attempting to reformat these traditions for a workplace environment whether the tradition itself is undermined and ridiculed?
Observing the work from this week has proven to me that even work that may seem like craft can still be endowed with meaning. Craft is a necessary process of art and without it the artists' intent would be less effectively communicated.
