Monday, December 7, 2009
Life-Size Exhibition Statement, Floor Plan, and Flow Plan
Life-Size Bibliography
Ashton, Dore. The Unknown Shore: A View of Contemporary Art. Canada: Little, Brown & Company (Canada) Limited. 1962. Print
Cheetham, Mark A. "Postmodernism in Recent Canadian Art: Ironies of Memory." Double Talking: Essays on Verbal and Visual Ironies in Canadian Contemporary Art and Literature. Ed. Linda Hutcheon. Toronto, Ontario: ECW Press, 1992. pg. 54 -73. Print.
Grimm, Gerit. Master's thesis, New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University, 2004.
Hutcheon, Linda. Double Talking: Essays on Verbal and Visual Ironies in Canadian Contemporary Art and Literature. ECW Press, 1992. Print.
Morgan, Peter. Master's thesis, New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University, 2005.
Page, Joseph. Master's thesis, New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University, 2008.
Wick Reaves, Wendy. “The Art in Humor, the Humor in Art.” American Art 04 Oct. 2009: 2-9. Print.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Life-Size
Humorous art is regarded as rather difficult to discuss. The viewers and critics struggle with what to make of pieces poking fun at politics, society, and the habits of people. Is the work naïve? Is it to be seen as just funny or is there an underlying message waiting to be deciphered? Is humor in art just a distraction from real life situations?
These are questions writer, Wendy Wick Reaves has dealt with. She believes that “humor works as a mode of expression, a cultural product, and a serious topic for discussion, despite its levity” (Reaves 2). She expresses that humor is seen as a resource, an attention-grabber. Artists utilize humor to attract viewers to their work. Reaves believes that humor “diverts [the viewer] from subtler messages, and often from a more complex interaction with the artwork” (2). Humor is then to be used appropriately. If the artist does not comprehend the weight of the humor within the art, the underlying message can be completely overlooked, and the work is regarded as a one-note laugh. The viewer smirks and moves on.
A skilled artist however, should know how to cleverly combine satire with art to immediately grasp the viewer’s attention and hold it. Reaves explains that “comic art forms often work on a subconscious level because [the viewers] don’t necessarily engage with them intellectually.” (2). Humor is the first experience the viewer acquires from the work. Because of the initial impact, the viewer tends to “absorb” first before observing underlying messages (2). Once the work grabs the viewer’s attention with humor, the audience can then unpack the meaning of the piece. Humorous art “can reveal not only clever manipulations, but also layered meanings and aesthetic sophistication that warrant [the viewers’] attention” (Reaves 2)
Even Reaves acknowledges that “the arbiters of the fine art world - dealers, critics, and art historians - seldom want to grapple with humor” (4). Humor is unnoticed because the viewer “wants to take art seriously, especially when lawmakers and the public questions its value” (4). Does humor have a place in art then? When combined with social cues, references to consumption, technology, and politics, humor can be viewed as a tool rather than something unnecessary and ridiculous. Reaves agrees that humor “must be added to the mix of cultural references that [the viewers] use to contextualize art” (4). It is one of the only ways to utilize humor effectively.
A more refined aspect of humor, which most artists seek to achieve in their work, is the utilization of irony. Subtlety through irony is difficult to grasp and to achieve. Because of this obstacle, artists resort to obvious play in scale, distracting color, or any apparent trick for the viewer to stay with their work for seconds more. A balance of thought and playfulness requires skill. Artists Gerit Grimm, Peter Morgan, Joseph Page, and Julie Moon all experiment with ideas of form, scale, gender issues, and irony through their work. Whether incorporating recognizable subjects like airplane magazines or familiar atmospheres like a boisterous carnival, each of these artists are also quietly slipping another suggestion in to the subconscious.
While form, scale, and subject matter are all formalized early in the making of the work, it is what the piece is projecting that announces itself late. Unfortunately, the message the work is emitting is the important factor. When an artist pushes an idea too much, the piece becomes too accessible. If an idea is not formulized enough, however, the message is lost and the presented work is perceived as unsuccessful or unfinished. Each of the listed artists utilizes irony in their form, their scale shifts, and their subject matter.
The playfulness and sexuality in the work that Gerit Grimm is known for stems from her imagination and “the childishness of [her] thoughts” (Grimm 2). Growing up in Germany, she had an idealized notion of American culture. While her homeland was in constant change, the Berlin Wall falling for example, she perceived America as “aged and exotic” (Grimm 6). After witnessing Robert Arneson’s work during a gallery visit, she decided to travel to States. She noticed the “casual approach American ceramists… took when working with clay” (2). While enduring the formal education of German ceramic art, Grimm wanted to experiment with the “humorous, sassy and mischief loaded stories” that American culture had to offer. She also wanted to “[ignore] aesthetic rules and create… artwork that functioned more unreservedly in space” (2). The relocation of her studies brought about a significant change in her work.
Gerit Grimm addresses the quirky behavior of people in social settings. In her MFA thesis report, Grimm makes humorous observations about the interaction of people. Depending on the atmosphere, people act differently. At the theatre, “the women [wear] beautiful ensembles, [have] nicely done hair, [and wear] the highest of heels and flash jewelry” (Grimm 3). They venture to the theatre not only to watch the show, but to also be watched themselves. There is a doubling in the idea of viewing and wanting to be viewed.
Irony is known for its duality, its multiple functions. In the book, Double Talking: Essays on Verbal and Visual Ironies in Canadian Contemporary Art irony is described as “saying one thing and meaning another… a double mode of address” (Hutcheon 13). Robert Wien’s The Rip is a piece that can be easily described by this doubleness. Wien’s initial intention was to re-create a theatre setting from his childhood. He remembers a Western film being projected on the screen with a tear. The native Canadians in the theatre were so disgruntled by the portrayal of the natives that they began to throw things at the screen. The tear grew, ripping the screen in half. In this instance, the rip was significant in a new way. The rip became a “spatial metaphor for the growing political activism of native Canadians, which ‘became impossible to ignore’” (Cheetham 59). The drastic ripping of the screen becomes distracting to the film, and the issue the natives have becomes more noticeable. The artist “has presented the potential for individual memories to intersect with social concerns” (61).
Grimm addresses the duality of irony, like Robert Wien’s, through social settings like movie theatres and carnivals. The presentation of such situations allows the viewer to become part of the crowded audience on velvety, red seats, or to want to push their way through the busy midway. Grimm’s Downtown Street: Movie Theater portrays several social settings. The innards of the movie theater are left out on display for viewers to come and inspect the people it holds. Each flat, ceramic figure gazes out at the audience when the theater doors are opened. This raises the question of who is viewing who. Because the ceramic pieces are about life size, and because the social settings are all too familiar, the viewer falls in to the ironic trap of participating. Questions like, “Do I really pay ten dollars to sit in a crowded movie theater to watch a generic romantic comedy,” rise in the viewer’s thoughts. The portrayal of human behavior in a gallery setting can actually be pretty revealing. Although Grimm’s subjects are not politically charged like Robert Wien’s art, both artists illuminate on elements of human tendencies and their flaws.
It is not Grimm’s Downtown Street that makes its appearance in my exhibition however. It is her piece, Wonderland that the viewer first encounters. To participate in this piece, the viewer is required to duck under the box that contains this other world. In the center of the bottom of the work, there is a hole where the viewer is expected to go through. Gripped with fear, the viewer holds their breath and ventures through to this alternate environment. The viewer is then suddenly immersed in a colorful, exotic place. Compared to the figures within the surroundings, the viewer is gigantic and purely a visitor to this alternate setting. There is no distance between the viewer and the work; the work automatically becomes less intimidating. The arrangement seems to encourage an investigation on the viewer’s part, of the surroundings. It is at this point that the viewer can digest the candy-colored grasses, the bubbling blue mountains, and the friendly natives in their natural state. Mirrors line the walls of the enclosure, creating the illusion of an expansive landscape. Dore Ashton explains in the book, The Unknown Shore: A View of Contemporary Art, that irony is the “ultimate detachment, a philosophical and psychological distance which precludes didactism or moralizing” (Ashton 178). In other words, irony is what prevents boredom in art. Grimm, as well as the other three artists in the exhibition, utilizes art as a vehicle to transport the viewer to mystical settings. These settings are unlikely to be seen in a gallery setting; they each obtain a dream-like quality. These transcending environments are unattached to the gallery and allow the viewer to relax and imagine themselves in these new, magical settings.
After endlessly waiting in line to have a chance to peek into Grimm’s Wonderland, the viewer notices Peter Morgan’s Sky Mall Exclusives. The objects within the sky mall are larger than life size, forcing their importance on the viewer. The viewer’s relation to this piece is again participatory. Items found in airplane magazines are on display, waiting to be purchased. Delectable items like elk salami or doggie steps are temptingly placed on fluffy clouds. The viewer is compelled to window shop while stepping around the sales items. Morgan emphasizes the ridiculousness of actual items found in magazines. It is ironic that these items do exist. They are absurd enough to exist in Morgan’s fictional sky mall. Morgan describes his playfully critical work as “idealized and faux” (Morgan 9). By placing these items in a created reality, he hopes the viewers can “mentally put themselves in this place, and understand it as an actual experience rather than a representation of one” (9).
As the viewer meanders through Sky Mall Exclusives, Doggie Steps is the last piece to be approached. Directionally, it is faced towards the gallery’s corner, where Grimm’s Carnival resides. The viewer’s gaze is curious to locate what the arthritic dog is staring at. Turning, the viewer journeys on to Grimm’s second piece of the exhibition.
Gerit Grimm’s Carnival consists of columns of flat depictions of people enjoying a day at the carnival. In contrast to Grimm’s Wonderland, the figures in Carnival are now towering over the viewer. The viewer is limited to only certain views of each column; the columns are displayed on a pedestal, restraining the viewer to walk around the cluster as a whole. Each column vaguely recalls the guidelines of the Egyptians Canon of Proportions. As the viewer moves around the piece, the figures drastically change point-of-view; each side of the column containing a different side of the character. Instead of the figure ebbing over the sharp edges of the columns, another side of the character is presented wholly instead. Like Grimm’s Downtown Street: Movie Theater, Carnival also immerses the viewer into an alternate environment. This time, the setting is familiar; the carnival is a place of wonder and disgust. While reviewing this work, the viewer asks himself, “Was spending all that money to win a carnival prize worth this little souvenir?” Again, Grimm is asking the viewer to question the celebration of the carnival setting. Can the viewer relate to the cheesy setting, the entertainers, and the collapsible park rides?
At this point, the viewer has wandered through half of the exhibit. He has been the titan in Grimm’s Wonderland, experienced a giant’s shopping district in Morgan’s Sky Mall Exclusives, and has battled the towering carnies in Grimm’s Carnival. The separate character columns lead the viewer over to Julie Moon’s Headspace. Out of all the pieces the viewer has met so far, Moon’s is the first to incorporate both overbearing size and the delicate comfort of figurines. Directionally, the piece is facing the left wall of the gallery. The path of the viewer is dictated solely by the facings of each piece. Each figure stands stoically, referencing a serviceman’s formation. Their proud configuration is concrete; the viewer must weave around the sculpture to continue through the exhibition. As he passes, the viewer notices that each figure is eerily headless. Moon’s pieces control the backspace of the gallery, setting a dark, fantastical scenario. The floating, organic shapes clutter the backspace, making it feel tight and claustrophobic. Although Moon’s pieces do not physically create an atmosphere, they demand attention and stand their ground.
The second piece of Moon’s the viewer encounters is Untitled. The sculptural wall piece is anamorphous. The only recognizable form stems out from the organic shapes. It is a woman’s curving arm, emphatically pointing in a direction. This piece is mounted on the back wall, near the right corner. It is a visual clue for the viewer to continue forward through the gallery. It is ironic that the piece is so literal. It does not contain the subtlety of the placement of Doggie Steps, but it still acts as a guide for the viewer. Moon’s flowery graphics on both Headspace and Untitled slightly retract the eerie feeling her work emits. The graphics damage the severity of each piece, but also add a dimension of humor.
The last piece the viewer exhaustingly experiences is Joe Page’s Flow Chart. Like Grimm and Morgan, Page creates a whole new reality for the viewer. This installation acts as a smooth transition between the imaginary worlds and exiting the gallery. Page utilizes the stark, white gallery walls within his Flow Chart. The colored graphics on the wall act cohesively with the walls. This piece is also very directional. Because it so dependent on the wall, the viewer is forced to follow the curving lines and bending backgrounds along, while also taking in the installed wall pieces as well.
Flow Chart is purposely limited to certain color and form. Page empathizes with early video game designers who had to work with “extremely limited color pallet and an inability to render recognizable shapes” (Page 1). Page takes this constraint and follows its strict rules; he only displays certain color, shape, and a limited direction in his piece. His simplicity of color and form in his colored wall elements allow a “contextual way to change the character of the ceramic pieces near them” (4). The environments he creates “serve as a vehicle for the creation, transformation, and travels of the bubbles” (4). The doubling of irony occurs here as well. There is a transformation of the “bubble” within Page’s piece, as well as the modification of the gallery setting to allude to a magical world.
The exhibition toys with themes of scale and irony. There is an immeasurable weight to what the work is saying. Irony is a heavy theme that runs thick through all of the work. The size of the irony portrayed in each piece depends on the artist’s employment of subtlety. Scale is the other main theme within this exhibition. The experience of the work is based on the comparison of the work’s size to the viewer’s stature. Each artist experiments with size and is interested in the viewer’s relationship to that piece. Because this exhibition relies so heavily on size, both metaphorically and physically, it is called “Life-Size.”
Painterly Ceramics
According to Merriam-Webster, painterly describes something as: 1. Relating to or typical of a painter or 2. Suggestive or characteristic of a painting or the art of painting marked by openness of form which is not linear and in which sharp outlines are lacking. Painters enjoy this openness and freedom in their material. However, this is a freedom that is not limited to paint. The word painterly describes attributes as related to this sense of gestural expression. Thought this show the painterly aesthetics’ relevance to ceramic art will be examined.
Linda Sorman, a 2003 Alfred MFA graduate in ceramics, is a ceramic sculptor. Sormin uses wheel-throwing, slab-building, press molding, and pinching to describe a conversation that becomes the “’narration’ of (her)... abstraction.” In both thought and practice she looks to eloquently disturb known ideas about the ceramic material and the processes used in creating ceramic art. Again both physically and conceptually, the work questions enclosure, disclosure, porosity and density, as well as the relationships between mass and weigh, strength and construction, balance and movement, and construction and collapse. She accomplishes this by burrowing and colonizing forms, taken from her narration, within eachother while involving chance, desire, risk, failure, and surprise. She does not hesitate to attach wet coils to dry ones or even build wet off fired structures. Getting the clay to behave in new ways by allowing it to misbehave again contradicts preconception of the ceramic material. Sormin is excited and intrigued by “mistakes” which encourages her exploration of the material by using techniques known not to work. By actively questioning the ceramic material she gains a greater understanding of what clay can or will do and mean. She is motivated by the drama of the material and her continued questioning of ceramics is an evident strength in the precarious space where her work excises. (Sormin 2003)
In Sormin’s “Vernalia”(2003) the element of touch is very evident. It is architecturally constructed with linear units that form a lattices structure. Through the handling of material the linear units loose their sharpness resulting in a painterly object reminiscent of layered brush strokes instead of a constructed feeling like a building structure or skeleton. Loose craftsmanship in this sculpture, as well as attraction to material and its reaction to the hand are the result of the contradictions Sormin is inspired by. Not only is she questioning ceramic construction though her process but she is creating a feeling of dilapidated construction by suggesting previous stability whileusing a system in a painterly and gesturally free way. A relation between interior and exterior is introduced through the impaired view of the inside as well as by its pores outside. The suggestion, but ultimate lack of geometric form as well as volume of negative space and its interruption by loosely linear forms are direct relations to the definition of painterly. The negative space provides openness and although the structure suggests linear form, in the end what could be called an outline blurs the space where the piece starts and stops instead of framing it. A general feeling of decompostion, relic, and ruin emanate from the piece. The piece is 40” tall and sits on a pedestal that is angled so the corner is facing the viewer. The size and it’s height form the floor, as well as the spot lighting that cast shadow around the piece draw you in. These elements all attribute to the darkness, foreboding, dangerous, and intimidating result of the presentation.
In relation to painting Sormin’s work is consistent with some of the moves made by Francis Bacon. Bacon’s pictorial concerns and expressive techniques are eccentric in comparison to those of his contemporary modern painters just as Sormin works in a process that generally conflicts with the ideas and “rules” of the ceramic material. Consistent with Sormin’s dealings with construction through destruction, as Bacon progressed though his career he destroyed all of his early work. Bacon is known for his extreme anatomical and physiognomic distortions as principles of his expression. His violent recklessness in physicality, iconographic, and formal allusions are analogues Sormin’s handling of ceramic. Finally, Bacon’s use of a space frame device in his caged animals and enclosed figures relate to the encased objects in Sormin’s lattices. (Fuller 1985)
Lee Somers, a 2006 Alfred MFA graduate, is also a ceramic sculptor. Through travel, Somers has been interested in broadening connections to and senses of space and history. Using these connections he has rooted himself in three places: His home, the landscape and American Indian ruins in the American Southwest, Alfred, NY, the core of his academic and cultural education, and China, where he has built a relationship with the global ceramic community. In finding connection to these places as well as between them Somers discovered a relationships between architecture, landscape, and culture. In order to achieve consistency while discussing these relationships he defines these terms; architecture as the constructions of man, landscape as the depiction of natural scenes and the aesthetic approach to the outdoors, weather, and the shifting of light (through this definition he aligns himself with some painterly vernacular consistent through the execution of his work), and culture as customs, arts, and social interaction as achievements of human intellect in a social group. With these definitions he explores how these three factors rely on each other and blend together. Architecture is a representation of culture and is impressed upon by landscape. Architecture can become landscape through ruin. “Architecture and landscape often find their most dramatic expression in decay, ruin, and destruction.” Both looking at ruin, this conversation relates to Linda Sormin’s thoughts and processes. Perhaps ceramic sculpture that aligns itself with the painterly follows a trend of speaking to dilapidation, as opposed to rigid construction. Ruins tend to portray the morality of culture and the frailty of the human condition. By defining the three influential surroundings by their ruins and rubble Somers found a connection in clay. From the ceramics left over by the American Indians at Mesa Verda where he grew up to the shards found during excavation of buildings constructed on top of kiln sights in Jingdezhen, China and from the dumpsters of Harder Hall in Alfred ceramic shards became trail markers in his life.
In making Somers attempts to weave matrixes of material creating relationships that he hopes in the end transcend the materials used. This is similar to the conversations Sormin creates by working material in contradicting manners. Like Sormin and relevant to a painterly hand Somers is interested in the balances between structure and chaos, symmetry and disorder, and repetition and variety. Somers addresses these relationships as well as the relationship previously discussed between architecture and landscape by mixing sculpture and video in instillation. He builds sketches or “unfinished object” to investigate pattern and structure. Then using both built and found ceramic objects arranges “action paintings”. These are composite arrangements without any predetermined form. Somers sidelines the plastic forming process in favor of collecting, cataloging, and curating these temporary and spontaneous gestural aesthetic exercises. He is dependent on imagination and a process of productive daydreaming as this shift from making to finding or from architecture to landscape occurs. (Somers 2006)
Lee Somer’s “Roadtrip”(2006) is a mixed media installation. It is a composition constructed from layering up of individual found ceramic pieces. The parts vary in color, surface, form, and size. They sit on the wall in the space occupied by a painting and act as brush strokes braking up the composition as well as providing it. The work is a representation of the timeline of travel and the jumbled cross sections of the passage thought landscape. Somers uses video along with his ceramic shard collage to describe two feelings of space, one being the landscape and the other the map guiding you though. This relationship shows the change in space though ones experience of it. It is not cut and dry whether the video or the collage represents the landscape of the map. The video acts to suggest the viewer becomes part of or participates in the momenr maybe representative of the landscape and the things you learn by being in the space. The video is however flat on the wall presenting the space two dimensionally like a map. At the same time, the three-dimensional representation of space provided by the ceramic college could bring us into the space but is static and unchanging like a map.
Linda Swanson, a 2005 Alfred MFA grad, is a ceramic artist. She is interested in the paradox between humans and nature, humans being part of nature however separated by their consciousness, consciousness being what makes us human. She is also intrigued by nature or landscape being opposed to culture. This is reminiscent of Somers’ ideas of the two being inherently connected. She believes our conception of nature is a cultural process. She uses her art as a bridge to span the gap. Swanson talks about nature through her art as a way of viewing nature through the culture her work represents. She tries to get a new perspective on nature by first de-familiarizing and then reevaluation it through the making process. She does this by looking at nature phenomenons like boiling mud pits and volcanic lava flows that occur where people cannot survive. She uses ceramic materials and processes to look at the wonder, beauty, and danger created by these environments and to blur the line between the natural and crafted: nature and culture. She accesses nature through this look at natural process, and then reinterprets her subject through ceramic process and material. Her process involves making tests, looking for things that relate to her interests and then following them through. She minimalizes gestural elements in order to make room for natural ones, fast and slow, up and down, inside and outside, noise and silence, organic and inorganic, and light and shadow.
In Swanson’s series titled “Views”, she explores ceramic crystalline glazes in a painterly manner by working with them as pure surfaces. She glazes cast porcelain, convex circles and displays them in metal rings, used as frames. The phenomenon of the glaze and the work references “both natural organic forms such as flowers as well as geometric forms.” This duel reference, indicative of the material, illustrates the concept of Swanson’s work. (Swanson 2005)
Swanson’s ideas about translating nature are exemplified by James McNeill Whistler’s Nocturne paintings of the 1870’s. Like Swanson, Whistler did not view nature in a realistic manner. He unified surface and employed gentle but non-static tones. Swanson’s crystalline glazes mimic the importance he found, though Japanese prints, in including color throughout a composition. Both artists share a similar idea of deconstructing nature,
Whistler used dots of color to show presence of light in a reevaluation of natural phenomenon. Finally, like Swanson’s translation of nature though material, Whistler did not paint on site, translating nature though the filter of memory. (Sutton 12964)
Through a common material and three very different processes these Alfred MFA graduals all work in a painterly manner. They share other common themes including looking at destruction, as opposed to construction, as a productive process and discussing relationships between the natural world and the human world. Through this show we see a spectrum of the definition of painterly in regards to ceramics and hopefully can begin to understand the usefulness of the adjective.
Works Cited:
1. Linda Sormin, Master’s thesis, New York College of Ceramics at Alfred University,
2003.
2. Fuller, P. Aug., 1985. Francis Bacon, London. The Burlington Magazine Publications,
Ltd. Vol. 127, No. 989: 553-554.
3. Lee Somers, Master’s thesis, New York College of Ceramics at Alfred University,
2006.
4. Linda Swanson, Master’s thesis, New York College of Ceramics at Alfred University,
2005.
5. Sutton, Denys. 1964. Nocturne: The Art of James Mcneill Whistler. Philadelphia, New
York: J.B. Lippincott Company.
Avery Syrig - Open to the Public: Artist and Viewer as Collaborators in the Gallery Space
Open to the Public: Artist and Viewer as Collaborators
In the Gallery Space
The museum is considered a place of authority, authenticity, and knowledge. We accept what the institution presents to us as the right way of thinking and feeling about work that is accepted as ‘good’ art. Yet without our own experiences, thoughts, and feelings, many of the works in museums do not hold any real significance to our lives. How can museums reconnect with the public to create a space that celebrates exciting and multidimensional works that don’t just speak at the viewer but speak with the viewer?
Charles Garoian suggests that museums need to be challenged and rethought as a process to connect museum viewing with our everyday lives:
“By challenging the mythic assumptions of the proscenium, which distinguishes and divides performers’ representation of reality on stage from the reality of the spectators’ lives in the real world, Artaud sought reciprocity between theatrical performance and the performance of everyday life.” [1]
Without this connection between the work and everyday life, art is defined and valued only as acknowledged by higher sources leaving the viewer with a possible sense of awe but with nothing learned or experienced that actually contributes to the cultural experience of art.
The museums’ authority creates a hierarchy of voice and view:
“The enormity and splendor of many museums bears down on the eyes and ears, strained to see and hear so much under such awesome and, yes, constrained or regulated circumstances. But for many … there has been no introduction to such a world.” [2]
The museum deems what art and which artists are worthy, authentic, and interesting. It is a guarded institution that reinforces the hierarchy that controls and defines ‘good’ art.
“ ‘…the guards, they’re nervous. Not just about us, but about their bosses. They must own the pictures, and the guards would lose their jobs if anything bad happens.’ That last observation, a child’s intuition, touches on so very much—that the guards (so easily criticized or scapegoated by a new young visitor, because they are there, constantly watching and, if necessary, speaking up) are really at the very bottom of a ladder that becomes increasingly invisible, yet powerful, as one climbs the rungs. Needless to say, it is the curators and the trustees who are the “bosses” the boy mentioned—“rich white folks,” he later called them when asked to be more specific.” [3]
The rich, white curators and trustees determine the value of a piece. The artists depict their personal views. The processes of creating art and determining its value is private and separate from the exhibition. The viewer is no more than an anonymous observer and the lowest member of the artistic hierarchy, merely a ‘layman.’ The exhibition space is structured for viewing only, excluding other kind of interaction with a piece. This model is built around an anonymous relationship between the artist and the viewer.
The four artists discussed in my exhibition plan challenge this traditional model, which I will refer to as the museum model. Individually, their work challenges specific aspects of the traditional museum model. Collectively, their work leads to the question: How can the artists’ and viewers’ collective knowledge be pooled to create a conversation enabling learning and growth on both sides? Or stated in another way: how can the relationship between the artist and the viewer become more intimate? The philosophy of art driving their work is exemplified in this statement:
Most museum exhibitions require you to look at work and gain an understanding and experience just from looking at it. Come make work with the artists. Without you as the viewer these works could not exist or would not work in the same way that they do with your help. These works all realize the importance of the viewer, not just as critic or analyzer of the work, but as a specific part of the piece.
Andrea Fraser, Alex Golden, Annie Abraham and Cat Mazza challenge the dichotomy between artist and viewer in the museum model. Their pieces transform the viewer from anonymous observer to participant to collaborator. Transformation of the role of the viewer and his/her relationship to the artist challenges the entire traditional museum model.
Through Andrea Fraser’s “Projection,” Alex Golden’s “Puff,” Annie Abraham’s “The Big Kiss,” and Cat Mazza’s “Nike Blanket Petition,” we can begin to understand different approaches to viewer participation and viewer collaboration with the artist and artwork. In some, just the way the piece addresses or even places the viewer in a position of importance and significance is enough to create intimacy. In others, the viewer is placed in a situation that stimulates realization from a present experience. The last two artists literally collaborate with the audience by asking them to act through the Internet or act in the actual making process. Intimacy is created by giving the viewer weight through their presence, their actions in the gallery space, their participation in the actions of a piece, or through the actual making process.
Andrea Fraser’s “Projection” is an installation consisting of two life –sized video projections on opposite walls in a long, narrow, darkened gallery space. In both projections the same woman dressed in the same clothes sits on the same chair in a seamless black background. The projections consist of twelve short monologues that loop continuously between the two walls. As one monologue fades to black, another monologue begins on the opposite wall. The actress addresses the camera directly, creating the illusion that she is speaking both to the opposite projection of herself and the audience in the middle of the gallery space. The monologue is a reformulation of video recordings of intensive psychoanalytic consultations that Fraser participated in. [4]
"Projection" Andrea Fraser
This installation speaks about the psychological projections that structure the interaction between artists, their work, and their viewers. Artists, as people learned in the art world, are seen as demi-gods and their work as masterpieces. Take, for instance the language used to describe the significance of placement in the gallery: “…Olympia was first relegated to the secondary Musee du Luxembourg, to be given a place of honor…,” [5] “In a perverse echo of history, Olympia’s downgraded installation at the Orsay was countered by the place of pride given to couture’s bombastic Romans of the Decadence; the enormous picture reigns as the only painting in the museum’s magnificent central hall of sculptures.” [6]
"Olympia" E. Manet
The language in these quotes is one of grandeur—supremacy bigger than life and humanity to the point of putting art into the same category as religion. Indeed, the viewer can even make an offering in the museum collection box. The analogy between museums and places of worship is clear. It reflects cultural ideas of art.
Andrea Fraser in "Museum Highlights a Gallery Talk"
Fraser questions this hierarchy in this piece and many of her other works such as “Museum Highlights: a Gallery Talk,” where she takes visitors at the Philadelphia Museum of Art on an overly dramatic tour. [7] Why are museums places of authority? Why is the artist portrayed as genius? And why is adoration of artwork comparable to that of religious saints? Once placed in a position of prestige, it is difficult to question these pieces of art and without question the gallery becomes a cathedral: a place of worship rather than a place of connection and learning. Questioning the motives and challenging the model behind this structure opens up a dialogue between the artist and viewer. The first step in changing the museum is to create a space that is about a discussion; foregoing the absolute ‘truth’ for a realistic and growing point of view. Instead of being preached to the work is ‘open to the public.’
Andrea Fraser’s “Projection” places the viewer in the middle of the work. The work doesn’t just sit in space but literally confronts and ‘sees’ the viewer. The viewer is transformed from a stagnant object unrelated and unaddressed into a significant part of the piece. Although not necessarily thought by Fraser at the beginning of the making of this piece, through the affirmation of the viewer’s presence, the work gives the viewer importance. The piece speaks to and also speaks about the viewer. Part of the ‘discussion’ is about the viewer’s point of view, which is accepted as valid and significant. The viewer becomes significant to the piece, their views are important. [8]
Alex Golden’s installation, “Puff,” transforms the viewer into a participant. His piece forces the viewer to go through an experience that provokes strong emotions. It is also an experience that most viewers can associate with. The viewer enters the gallery space and is faced with an octangular device that they must enter in order to see the rest of the gallery space. A woman in a uniform on a video screen beckons them into this device. After taking that step into the device, a series of events happen: the doors to the device shut, lights flash, clicks and whistles sound, music plays, fans turn on and off in a rhythmic fashion. Suddenly the fans all turn on as a camera on a robotic arm swings out and takes a picture of the viewer. The arm then swings back into place and the doors to the rest of the gallery space open. The viewer walks out into a gallery turned lounge with a couch and a television screen where they realize that everyone in the room has watched them enter the gallery space in real time. [9]
Golden’s work takes an emotion—the fear of being watched and judged when one is the center of attention—and makes every viewer experience it in reality rather than through Golden’s depiction through an object. The viewer becomes part of the work through their own provoked experience. Golden’s “Puff” shares similarities with Bruce Nauman’s "Live-Taped Video Corridor,” where viewers are asked to enter a ten-meter long and fifty centimeters wide corridor that has two video monitors at the other end of the entrance to the corridor. The top monitor shows a closed-circuit tape recording of the camera from the entrance to the corridor. As you enter the corridor you appear on the monitor but as the viewer travels closer to the monitors, they become farther away in the monitors and can see themselves from behind.[10] In both of these pieces the power of authority, alienation, and surveillance all play into the feelings generated by the museum model. In “Puff,” as other viewers witness the reaction of the person entering the exhibit, the new guest becomes part of the piece for others as well. The viewer is transformed from an anonymous observer to an intimate participant. By making the installation about the participant’s experience, the participant’s experience is deemed just as important as the artist’s.
“Projection” and “Puff” both use the viewer’s presence as a form of collaboration. They place the viewer’s experience and intelligence on a level of significance and, in Golden’s piece, a level of significance equally important to the artist’s. These pieces redefine what it means for art to be open to the public; they create greater equality between the artist and the participant and promote open discussion and growth. The viewer as participant is allowed to bring his/her own point of view without feeling unimportant or belittled. Although viewers can and are present in the physical space in the museum, they are not actively present in the way achieved through these two pieces. It is this ‘actively present’ quality that transforms viewer to participant and creates a museum space that encourages the viewer to connect to, interact with, and learn from the art.
Annie Abraham’s piece adds another level of viewer/artist collaboration. For her installation at Over the Opening, Abraham asks the viewer to literally participate in her piece by kissing through real time on the web to create “The Big Kiss.” The viewer sits at a computer screen through which they can see and interact with a viewer at a different computer in the space. These images or videos of the two viewer’s interacting intimately are then projected on the walls of the exhibition space. This installation depends upon viewers’ participation in order for her work to become a reality. Similarities can be seen in the work of Victoria Vesna, who works through multimedia technologies to bring understanding to our new human condition in a time of advancing technologies. In “Quantum Tunnel” viewers are asked to leave a genetic trace by swiping their finger over a specified surface. At the same time the visitor’s image is taken and presented with the faces of the other visitors.[11] Just like Abraham’s work, the viewer must perform or act in the exhibition space.
"The Big Kiss" Annie Abraham
“The Big Kiss” speaks about our changing sense of intimacy and connection due to the development and use of the Internet. With this installation, viewers compare their past experiences with kissing, touch, and physical intimacy to their behavior over the Internet. By focusing on this comparison she asks viewers to understand how the Internet experience has changed people and society. Now millions of texts, videos, and sounds are available to be shared by people across the world in the touch of a second. Viewers experience the dichotomy of the Internet’s alienation from physical touch while also experiencing the Internet’s ability to connect people through a wider social network than the world has ever seen. This work creates a community of experimentation within the gallery space creating connection and growth of information not only between viewers but also through the artist and the viewer as co-artist. Becoming co-artist, the viewer is welcomed into the Internet community, gallery community (made up of museum visitors), and the artistic community. [12]
This work also addresses the alienation of the viewer from the ‘higher’ thought of the artist and museum. When views and ideas are placed in a system of institutional hierarchy, there is a loss of significance of a singular or voice of lesser background (a person who doesn’t have a background in art). Abraham’s work gives the viewer’s experience and understanding significance by allowing the viewer to collaborate in the performance of the work. Abraham elevates the viewer beyond participant to a maker of the piece. She creates equal significance in artist and viewer.
Cat Mazza’s work in “microRevolt” allows viewers to participate in the making of the work in a similar manner. Creating a software called KnitPro that is accessible through the Internet, Mazza asks those in the international knitting and sewing communities to create a knitted square for the “Nike Blanket Petition,” a blanket of a black Nike swoosh symbol on a red background. From 2003-2008, a detached group of international knit and crochet hobbyists participated in this microRevolt project. Each 4 x 4 inch stitched square that makes up the Nike logo acts as a signature for fair labor policies for Nike garment workers. Over the five-year period, forty countries have been represented through virtual and handmade squares that were collected on tour, electronically, and by post.[13]
"Nike Blanket Petition" Cat Mazza
The accumulated multi-colored squares were knitted into the border of the Nike Blanket at Garanti Gallery in Istanbul Turkey in November 2007, and the blanket was completed in 2008. The collected squares of different textures, patterns, and colors are assembled as a border around the swoosh symbol, symbolizing the community that is assembled behind this action.[14]
This knit quilt is an assembly of views, all equally important. This work may be the most powerful of all four. It gives voice to the smaller voices of a community and creates a collective voice that looms larger than any single voice. Unacknowledged by the artist at the time of conception of the idea for the “Nike Blanket Petition,” this piece competes with the museum’s authority and allows other viewers to place their own vote. In this work, the greater community has the ability to create and take part in the making process.[15]
Mazza’s and Abraham’s work both ask the viewer to perform and participate in the actual
making process, asking far more than just their active presence in the work. By asking the
viewer to perform, the artist is asking the viewer to collaborate and become an artist by
contributing to the creation of the artwork. This puts the viewer’s abilities and voice on an
equal level to the artists.
When the viewer and artist participate in the process of making art, they share an experience that creates both meaning and connection. Like all experience, that creates learning and growth for both artists and viewers. The museum is not a place of views out of reach from the general population but a community and a place of shared experience. The museum is transformed in the way described in this quote:
“I can, even now, remember the description I dread of the enormous rooms, the marble floors, the hushed silence that threatened to envelop the children, so they felt, and dared in them the urge to make noise as a statement of self-assertion: ‘It was the hugest place I’ve ever been in,’ a girl said, adding, ‘It was like—well, everyone was holding his breath, and so we were whispering at first, and then we giggled, and then we really spoke up, and then people would stare at us, and they didn’t stop, but we wouldn’t stop talking either. A friend of mine—she said she wanted to scream so everything would be more ‘real,’ like it is where we live.’ ” [16]
Fraser, Golden, Abraham and Mazza appreciate and respond to the desire among viewers to become participants and make the experience real. They give the viewer the ability to probe deeper into the work creating a direct connection between their own lives and the artists’ intentions and thoughts. The artist and viewer can learn through each other’s experiences and see their connections to each other and the rest of the world. The viewer does not need to accept the museum’s authority because they themselves can connect to and analyze the work. The viewers can see the work’s implications, meaning, and value without the museum’s input.
With these artists’ work, the museum will become a place transformed. Rather than artist and viewer, there will be an artist and participants or collaborators. Rather than an anonymous viewing experience, there will be an intimate participatory experience. Rather than the religious experience of awe, there will be connection, experience, and the creation of meaning. Rather than the hierarchy of the artist, the critic and the layman, there will be a community of participants. Rather than a one-way dialogue, there will be a two-way discussion. These pieces all work to create a museum exhibition that is really ‘open to the public.’
[1] Charles R. Garoian. “Performing the Museum,” Studies in Art Education, vol. 42, no.3 (Spring, 2001), http://www.jstor.org/stable/1321039 (accessed October 4, 2009).
[2] Robert Coles. “Whose Museums?” American Art, vol. 6, no. 1 (1992), http://www.jstor.org/stable/3109042 (accessed November 30, 2009).
[3] Robert Coles. “Whose Museums?” American Art, vol. 6, no. 1 (1992), http://www.jstor.org/stable/3109042 (accessed November 30, 2009).
[4] “Andrea Fraser: Projection,” (Friedrich Petzel Gallery, 2009), http://www.petzel.com/exhibitions/2009-05-09_andrea-fraser/ (accessed December 2, 2009).
[5] Victoria Newhouse. Art and the Power of Placement (The Monacelli Press, 2005).
[6] Victoria Newhouse. Art and the Power of Placement (The Monacelli Press, 2005).
[7] “Andrea Fraser: Professor, New Genres,” (UCLA Department of Art), http://www.art.ucla.edu/faculty/fraser.html (accessed November 30, 2009).
[8] Note: 1. Syrig, Avery. E-mail to Andrea Fraser, November 30, 2009.
[9] Alex Golden. “Alex Golden.net,” (November 2007), http://alexgolden.net/ (accessed October 4, 2009).
[10] “Bruce Nauman: Live-Taped Video Corridor,” (Media Art Net, 2003), http://www.medienkunstnetz.de/works/live-taped-video-corridor/ (accessed November 30, 2009).
[11] “Quantum Tunnel,” (Victoria Vesna, 2007), http://vv.arts.ucla.edu/projects/2007-present.php (accessed December 4, 2009).
[12] “Annie Abrahams,” (Net, Art, Video, Performance, 2009) http://aabrahams.wordpress.com/2009/06/18/the-big-kiss-ljubljana/ (accessed October 4, 2009).
[13] Cat Mazza. “Nike Blanket Petition,” (microRevolt), http://www.microrevolt.org/web/blanket.htm (accessed November 5, 2009).
[14] Note 2. Syrig, Avery. E-mail to Cat Mazza, November 30, 2009.
[15] Note 2. Syrig, Avery. E-mail to Cat Mazza, November 30, 2009.
[16] Robert Coles. “Whose Museums?” American Art, vol. 6, no. 1 (1992), http://www.jstor.org/stable/3109042 (accessed November 30, 2009).
Bibliography
Adams, Robert McC. “Museums beyond Treasures and Traditions.” American Philosophical Society, vol. 135, no. 3 (September 1991): 332-338.http://www.jstor.org/stable/986771 (accessed November 30, 2009).
“Andrea Fraser: Professor, New Genres.” UCLA Department of Art.http://www.art.ucla.edu/faculty/fraser.html (accessed November 30, 2009).
“Andrea Fraser: Projection.” Friedrich Petzel Gallery, (2009). http://www.petzel.com/exhibitions/2009-05-09_andrea-fraser/ (accessed December 2, 2009).
“Annie Abrahams.” Net, Art, Video, Performance, (2009).http://aabrahams.wordpress.com/2009/06/18/the-big-kiss-ljubljana/ (accessed October 4, 2009).
“The Avant-garde at the Musée du Luxembourg: From Realism to Impressionism.”Musée d’Orsay, (2006). http://www.musee-orsay.fr/en/collections/history-of-the-collections/painting.html (accessed December 3, 2009).
“The Big Kiss.” http://www.bram.org/toucher/TBK.html (accessed October 4, 2009).
“Bruce Nauman: Live-Taped Video Corridor.” Media Art Net, (2003).http://www.medienkunstnetz.de/works/live-taped-video-corridor/ (accessed November 30, 2009).
Coles, Robert. “Whose Museums?” American Art, vol. 6, no. 1 (1992): 10, 11.http://www.jstor.org/stable/3109042 (accessed November 30, 2009).
Garoian, Charles R. “Performing the Museum.” Studies in Art Education, vol. 42, no. 3 (Spring, 2001): 236. http://www.jstor.org/stable/1321039 (accessed October 4, 2009).
Golden, Alex. “Alex Golden.net.” (November 2007). http://alexgolden.net/ (accessed October 4, 2009).
Mazza, Cat. “Nike Blanket Petition.” microRevolt. http://www.microrevolt.org/web/blanket.htm (accessed November 5, 2009).
Newhouse, Victoria. Art and the Power of Placement. The Monacelli Press, 2005: 215, 217.
“Quantum Tunnel.” Victoria Vesna, (2007). http://vv.arts.ucla.edu/projects/2007-present.php (accessed December 4, 2009).
Notes
1. Syrig, Avery. E-mail to Andrea Fraser, November 30, 2009.
2. Syrig, Avery. E-mail to Cat Mazza, November 30, 2009.
Wall Text:
Most museum exhibitions require you to look at work and gain an understanding and experience just from looking at it. Come make work with the artists. Without you as the viewer these works could not exist or would not work in the same way that they do with your help. These works all realize the importance of the viewer, not just as critic or analyzer of the work, but as a specific part of the piece.
Checklist of Objects:
- “Puff” by Alex Golden
- “Projection” by Andrea Fraser
- “The Big Kiss” by Annie Abraham
- “Nike Blanket Petition” by Cat Mazza