Somewhere Between Here and Nowhere

Still from Under Discussion, a video by Allora & Calzadilla (great interview with them here)
(via)


Excerpt from Tine Van Aerschot's first production, I have no thoughts and this is one. The actress is Forced Entertainment's Claire Marshall.
Another excerpt and a short bio here. Read more "Somewhere Between Here and Nowhere..."

"Art is seeing things from a different perspective"

Diogenes Laertes, Lives of Eminent Philosophers, Pythagoras, Bk. VIII, 8:

“When Leon the tyrant of Phlius asked Pythagoras who he was, he said, “a philosopher,” and that he compared life to the Great Games, where some went to compete for the prize and others went with wares to sell, but the best as spectators; for similarly, in life, some grow up with servile natures, greedy for fame and gain, but the philosopher seeks for truth.”

Video by comedian/musician Chris Cohen.
(via) Read more ""Art is seeing things from a different perspective"..."

Swingin pullin droppin as if it all never happened

Kamila Szejnoch's work Swing is the winner of this year's Szpilman Award ("awarded to works that exist only for a moment or a short period of time"). The Swing was suspended on one of Warsaw's largest (and scariest) monuments, the monument to the Berling Army Soldier. (for posters in the same vein and for Szejnoch's commentary, see here).

Two other works I particularly like from among the finalists are Sai Hua Kuan's Space Drawing
and Kate Mitchell's I am Not A Joke:
Read more "Swingin pullin droppin as if it all never happened..."

Beautiful Catastrophy - Kristine Moran's painting

What I find fascinating in Kristine Moran's paintings is the sense of discipline. The disasters that keep appearing, the huge messes of messes, the total wreck of a reality she introduces us into, seem like a carefuly planned catastrophy.
No wonder she arrived at theater interiors, with their settings ready for the show, with the wardrobe mirrors reflecting every possible aspect of the mask, with their ridiculously decorative shapes that are bound to disappear when it happens.
This stage is set for failure. A beautiful failure of something that seemed to be going right. Everything was set, every rule was applied and every hope was nurtured.
And yet, the closer to what matters, to the subject (the topic, the I, the eye), the bigger the tension.
Until it all just blows up in pieces.

But not entirely. And call me an optimist, but this structure which reappears even in the most amorphous circumstances sustains not just the painting, but also, whatever is left of me, the empathic viewer.

Moran's pictures have evolved into an astonishing universe where 3D space that contains, well, how do I put it... paint. Color. Texture. Painting is the better word here. It is as if the painting, a 2D picture, moved into a 3D space. And the space accepted it, incorporating it in its realm. If you think this is a metaphor, see this:

Kristine Moran has been compared to Francis Bacon. Yes, sure, the inter-dependence of form and reality, their perverse games of hide-and-seek... But Moran's work seemingly leaves the human body - though certainly not the human - much further behind. And maybe because of that, it appears as not so much a struggle of the artist, as a struggle between the forms themselves. As she watches them, cooly, from a distance.

The titles are, in order of appearance: You Used To Be Alright, What Happened ; The World Is Yours ; Collapse of Will ; Hunter - Gatherer. Read more "Beautiful Catastrophy - Kristine Moran's painting..."

...and all this time is so far away...

Okay. This is not an easy moment. All this attention is getting me nervous, and I feel like everything I write is being observed... After all, this has all along been about a private journey into the realm of some contemporary art.
So, just to make sure it is still a blog, let me tell you a story.
Once upon a time, I was an addict of skiing. I trained and I raced (without too much of a success) and I even got to spend some time with the Polish Ski Team. My first encounter with them was in a hotel in the French village of Les Deux Alpes. I entered the hotel room, and there they were, Poland's finest skiers. Most of them were concentrated on a Playstation game of Formula 1, with its volume set to maximum level. The rest of the young sportsmen were watching TV - it was a formula 1 race, and its noise was competing with the game. Everyone was completely mesmerized by the two screens. It took me at least a minute to realize there was someone else in the room, though. It was Andrzej Bachleda, by far Poland's best skier, who has lived most of his life in France, and whom I considered a strange guy - not very talkative, some sort of an odd case... In the midst of the overwhelming noise, the man was sitting on the bed, tucked into a corner, and reading Hemingway.
Well, this man has also come a long way since that moment. He has recently put out another album. Here is one song. (Besides the charming music, do appreciate the Polish mountains in the background).
Read more "...and all this time is so far away......"

LORADO TAFT'S FOUNTAIN OF TIME

Artists always dream of creating works of permanence. Perhaps they hope that "timeless" art will help them live on past their death.

Lorado Taft (1860-1936) was that kind of artist. A Chicago sculptor of monumental, heroic subjects, Taft worked from 1907 to 1922 on his life's masterpiece, a huge sculpture about mortality called The Fountain of Time. The sculpture was based on a line from Austin Dobson:

Time goes, you say? Alas, time stays; we go!

Taft created a 120 foot long parade of humanity with over 100 different figures symbolizing life's journey from birth to death.



This "march of the doomed" takes place in front of an imposing, 26 foot tall statue of Father Time.





Taft wanted his sculpture to have an eternal look, so he designed it in a classical "beaux-art" style. Unfortunately, by the time he finished, the beaux-art style was already unfashionable. It was replaced by abstract modernism. (Perhaps Time felt that Taft's ambition was impertinent and wanted to teach him a lesson.) In any event, the leading Chicago newspaper soon labeled the outdated sculpture one of the city's "pet atrocities." Resentful at the way styles had passed him by, Taft became a leading spokesperson for conservative sculpture and lectured against the evils of modernism (demonstrating that he had learned absolutely nothing about the inevitability of time).



Taft also tried to construct his sculpture using materials that would last a long time. After consulting with engineers, he decided on steel reinforced, hollow-cast concrete. Unfortunately, this choice was not well suited for Chicago winters. The concrete expanded and contracted, causing cracks in the surface. Details eroded and crumbled away forever. By the 1980s, the interior was crumbling due to moisture buildup, and the surface had become pitted and drab, assaulted by time, elements and pollution.



Even then, time was not done transforming Taft's work. Taft had envisioned his sculpture as the centerpiece of an elegant park in the style of the World's Columbian Exposition, where Taft first worked as a sculptor. However, the neighborhood changed with time. The surrounding city deteriorated even more than the sculpture. The sculpture became overgrown with weeds. There were no funds for sculpture repairs in a rough neighborhood on the south side of Chicago.



As a small boy in Chicago, I used to stand in that park and stare up at Taft's crumbling sculpture. Its subject was scary for a kid, but not nearly as scary as the changes wreaked by the passage of time.

I revisited that sculpture years later when I returned to Chicago as a law student. By then, time had transformed both me and the sculpture. I had grown to understand that, no matter how big or permanent we try to make art, it will not enable us to outwit time. No matter how grand or eternal the subject matter that we choose. No matter how wise the artist. No matter how much the artist got paid.

Taft had to learn the hard way that even art can't rescue us from the gaping maw of time; we just have to keep looking for our solace.

This happy happy love
Is sieged with crying sorrows,
Crushed beneath and above
Between todays and morrows;
A little paradise
Held in the world's vice.

....

This love a moment known
For what I do not know
And in a moment gone
Is like the happy doe
That keeps its perfect laws
Between the tiger's paws
And vindicates its cause.

. --Edwin Muir

Read more "LORADO TAFT'S FOUNTAIN OF TIME..."

Of Delicate Pride - Jorge Rodriguez-Gerada

The Wooster Collective published an interview with Jorge Rodriguez-Gerada. The answers to the following three questions are a brilliant introduction to his work. (My favorite, of course, is the third answer.)

Wooster: What other artists do you most admire?

I admire artists from different periods because of how they have impacted me at different times in my life. Leonardo da Vinci, Jean Giraud, Marcel Duchamp, John Heartfield, Ana Mendieta, Chris Burden, Barbara Kruger, Mark Pauline, Christo and Jeanne-Claude, Joseph Beuys and Anselm Kiefer are each a little part of me as an artist. With my contemporaries I would have to say that Swoon, Blu, and Marc Jenkins have impressed me not only with what they say with what they create, but also because of who they are as people.

Wooster: How would you describe your art to someone who could not see it?

My art is usually found within the urban landscape. City textures are my favorite background for my work. I like to work with ephemeral materials. One of my directions is to create large charcoal portraits of anonymous people on inner city walls that fade away with the wind and rain.

Wooster: What other talent would most like to have?

If I had another lifetime to devote to something else I would probably be an archeologist.

There is one thing about these portraits from the Identity Series I find awe-inspiring. They are modest. They bring forward the anonymous faces in a way that inspires both empathy and awe. They put them forward, fighting the war with commercial works as well as any. And yet, they are not shining at us with attractive colors. Their truthfulness is more than honest. It is humble. And yet - proud. And one more crucial thing: these faces, they fade away with time. This rare combination of grandiosity and modesty is something truly impressive.

Which brings us to Rodriguez-Gerada's latest project, the one most of us came to know him for.
He is the author of a huge portrait of Barack Obama (although actually the work is still not finished). But I think this has received enough publicity already. Appropriately enough, the work will be called Expectations, and is yesterday's news even before it inaugurated. Which tells us as much about the reception of directly political art as about the work itself. (On the other hand, this expectation is also about preparing the desinchantment, isn't it?)

Two documentaries about Rodriguez-Gerada's work in Spain:

Read more "Of Delicate Pride - Jorge Rodriguez-Gerada..."

Getting Ready

Part of an installation by Urs Fischer.

(Slowly and gently coming back...) Read more "Getting Ready..."

COBY WHITMORE

The great Coby Whitmore reminds us that a picture can be bigger when it doesn't fill up the whole page.

Read more "COBY WHITMORE..."

Celebration

I am proud to inform you that this site has been named one of the Top 8 Art Blogs of 2008 by the great Murmurart! It has also been listed as one of 100 Blogs That Will Make You Smarter at Online Universities.com!
This demands celebration...
After the hangover, expect new posts.
Also a selection of the posts will hopefuly soon be featured at the website of the classy Art World Magazine. Read more "Celebration..."

FRED

.

Andrew Wyeth called this painting "Marsh Hawk."



Having trouble finding the marsh hawk? Why, here it is way over at the edge, sitting on a post:



Harold von Schmidt painted this wonderful painting of revolutionary war hero William Dawes. Can't see him? If you are lucky, you might catch a fleeting glimpse of his butt.



This is Brueghel's painting of the fall of Icarus, the boy who flew too close to the sun. But Icarus is not exactly hogging the spotlight.



Here are his legs, way down here:



The literary critic Marvin Mudrick once said,

If you're ever tempted to write a story called "The Secret of the Universe" or "Man's Inhumanity to Man," do yourself a favor and call it "Fred" instead.

For today's post, I was tempted to expound at length on the importance of avoiding obviousness in art.

But I think I won't. Read more "FRED..."

BALANCING INSPIRATION AND PERSPIRATION

Illustrator Chris Van Allsburg once said that he spent only a small percentage of his working time making creative choices. The vast majority of his time was spent on the manual labor of implementing those choices. He would spend days and days painstakingly drawing individual blades of grass and leaves.



Artist Bernie Wrightson seemed to work the same way. He spent a great deal of time mechanically implementing his initial artistic decisions:



(In my view, this often resulted in a mountain of effort for a molehill of a result.)

Illustrator Robert Vickrey had a similar laborious style. Once he designed a picture, he would spend weeks filling in backgrounds such as concrete surfaces and brick walls.



I was thinking about this trade off as I was marveling at the paintings of Dreamworks artist Nathan Fowkes. Fowkes works at the opposite end of the spectrum.



Note the simplicity and economy with which he created that notch in the nearest line of mountains, or the way he conveyed important gradations of color within a single brush stroke.



These are small paintings (most are less than 3x5") that were painted very quickly (usually in 20 to 40 minutes) yet each one contains the entire genetic code for a larger, finished painting.







These sketches demonstrate all of the hard artistic decisions (commitments to a composition and a design, selections of color and technique) by which a finished work of art might be judged. They are pure artistic choice in its most concentrated form, without all the numbing labor and secondary refinements found in the finished pieces above.

Don't make the mistake of thinking there is anything crude about these paintings just because they are sketches. The subtlety of color in this next little beauty is absolutely breathtaking:



While they are smaller in size and took a fraction of the time, Fowkes's sketches convey far more information, with far more insight, than the larger finished works of Van Allsburg, Wrightson and Vickrey above. Each stroke or color choice by Fowkes has real significance.

I particularly enjoy the rich variety that Fowkes finds in the view from his window. These tiny pictures are so dense with knowledge, they must have the atomic weight of weapons grade plutonium:




I find his curiosity about this view quite contagious.

Van Allsburg, Wrightson and Vickrey are all talented fellows and I admire their work, but there is a separate beauty to Fowkes's economy, and I commend his work to you.

Read more "BALANCING INSPIRATION AND PERSPIRATION..."