For (the other) Rachel

Failed? movie making


Failed music sharing

Is this, like this?

For the past couple of weeks I have been working in the sculpture studios trying to finish a piece for a show we put together that opened last Friday. During this time I pretty much spent all of my time working; I did nothing that wasn’t absolutely necessary and towards the end I found that I could even cut out sleeping at least for a little while. I basically sacrificed my entire life to this one pursuit for a while and as stressful and unpleasant this may sound it was actually kind of enjoyable. There were a lot of other people who were doing the same thing as me, so we all went a little crazy and spent all our time in the studios together working, and it was all by our own choice. We could have gotten away with spending less time making our respective objects, but we wanted to be there working on them, and when we were away from the studios even for a little while we were anxious to get back. I haven’t decided yet if this kind of totally obsessive behavior is a good thing or not. I happen to be lucky enough to be majoring in the thing that I obsess over, so I have a little bit more freedom to spend so much time on it. I think that idea of being totally immersed in one thing, spending all you time on it is really interesting. I love finding people who have totally dedicated their lives to something. A lot of the collectors that we have looked at in class have done that, and I think that collectors and artists have a similar sort of obsessive devotion to something which I’m sure is very idiosyncratic and may not be understood by many others who are not equally obsessed with their own projects.

Chocolate and Peanut Butter

I’ve already written a couple times about artists who use unusual materials to create their artwork. Vic Muniz is another artist who uses materials not usually associated with art making to create his pieces. He’s used everything from chocolate, sugar, and peanut butter to dirt, and even clouds to make his images.
For an exhibition called Cloud Cloud, Muniz had a pilot sky write line drawings of clouds onto the sky above Manhattan and Miami. Muniz was on the ground as the clouds were being made photographing the cartoon like artificial drawings in clouds of clouds. So the image he was trying to recreate became the actual object.


Muniz has also made a series called Equivalents where he manipulated cotton balls to make them look like animals or praying hands and then photographed them in a way that makes them look like old photos of clouds. His work has so many steps and elements involved that it becomes impossible to categorize him as strictly a sculptor, painter or photographer. Just as Muniz is impossible to identify a lot of his work has the same type if identity conflicts. Is it a cloud, a cat, cotton the lines between the differences blur. There's a really video of Vic Muniz called Worst Possible Illusion on his website under the section for Pictures of Clouds where he talks a lot about his work and his thought process.

Muniz’s work has a great since of humor and irreverence. He looks at everything in his life as a source of inspiration and allows his ideas for work evolve from what he encounters. In his TED talk Muniz tells a story about how he became an artist and it began with the fact that he was born in Brazil included an awards ceremony, a job at an add agency and a fight among other seemingly unrelated non art experiences. I like the idea that events in your life can have totally unforeseen consequences way down the road, but they were still working together to get you the point you are at now. In my philosophy class we learned that the world is deterministic which basically means that while we can make choices in our daily lives it is predetermined how everything will work out. I kind of like this idea because it can allow you to believe that everything happens for a reason. You cannot say, “well what if I had done this instead” because you couldn’t have done anything differently. I am an extremely indecisive person and I find it takes a little of the pressure off the decision making process.

Choices

I recently listened to an episode of Radiolab about choice. As the would has developed the number of choices available to us in a daily basis has increased exponentially. This seems like it would be a positive development, but it may not be. Sometimes there are so many possibilities it becomes overwhelming and inhibits our ability to make an informed decision. In the program they spoke about George Miller’s paper “The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two,” which states that the average human is only able to hold on to about seven pieces of information plus or minus two in their working memory at any given time. This is why so many of the numbers we have to remember are 9 digits or less. If we have to try and deal rationally with more then 7 factors we are unable to focus and use our good judgment is easily overridden.

Researcher Baba Shiv did a test where he asked participants to remember a set of numbers and then walk across the hall and recite the numbers. Some subjects were given only 2 or 3 numbers to remember and some were given 7. As they walked down the hall they were stopped and offered two options for snacks, either a fruit cup or a piece of chocolate cake. In a overwhelming majority those who were remembering 7 digits chose the cake while those who were only dealing with 2 chose the fruit cups. Baba Shiv believes this is because our rational brain can only deal with so much at one time. If it is totally occupied remembering a series of numbers the emotional side is able to take over and the subjects choose their emotional choice over the best rational choice. Its a little scary that our logical decision making skills can be so easily overridden with only 7 items, just think about how many different things we try and keep in mind even when we are making small decisions.

In Search of the Miraculous

There is one artist that feel comes to mind a lot, dutch artist Bas Jan Ader. I thought of him when we were talking about Allen Lightman's book "Einstein's Dreams" and when we read about Ray Johnson. Bas Jan Ader is a conceptual artist who was a performance artist, photographer and filmmaker and his work became popular during the early 70s. A number of his performances are videos of him slowly allowing himself to fall. He falls from a chair placed on a rooftop, he falls from a tree branch, he falls into the river on a bicycle. The falls are so simple and deliberate they seem very elegant and affecting.





One of his best know pieces is a short film called “I’m too sad to tell you” where Ader cries in front of the camera for a little over 3 minutes. I feel like a lot of his work plays with the line between theatrically and sincerity and leaves you wondering what your response to him should be.



What I find the most fascinating about Bas Jan Ader was what I suppose you could call his final piece. In 1975 he set off on what he called “a very long sailing trip.” The trip was a part of a piece called “In Search of the Miraculous” in which he would attempt to cross the Atlantic by himself in a 12 ft sailboat. He hoped to make the trip in 60 to 90 days, but three weeks after he set off he lost radio contact and was presumed lost at sea. 6 months later his boat was found off the coast of Ireland, but Bas Jan had vanished, and his body has never been found. I feel like this story is a really good example of art and life merging. His disappearance is similar to Ray Johnson’s suicide, but it is less clear what Bas Jan’s intentions were and where circumstances took over. When we were discussing the different time scenarios we talked about being able to choose the moment of your death or at least being able to decide that this would be an acceptable time to go. I think that Bas Jan Ader being lost at sea was a really appropriate ending for him; it almost makes him seem mythical, more like a character from a legend then a real human being.
His website his a lot of his films and more information about the sailing trip.

Walking

Recently we read an excerpt from an interview with Werner Herzog in my sculpture class. Herzog is a German filmmaker who directed Grizzly Man, Fitzcarraldo, Encounters at the End of the World as well as many others. In the interview Herzog is talking about walking and how important traveling on foot is to him. Herzog explains that walking on foot is how we are intended to travel:

For too long now we have been estranged from the essential, which is the nomadic life: traveling on foot. A distinction must be made between hiking and traveling on foot. In today's society - though it would be ridiculous to advocate traveling on foot for everyone to every possible destination - I personally would rather do the existentially essential things in my life on foot. If you live in England and you girlfriend is in Sicily, and it is clear that you want to marry her, then you should walk to Sicily to propose.... The volume and depth and intensity of the world is something that only those on foot will ever experience.

Herzog tells a story about how he refused to fly to Paris to see a dying friend, but instead walked all the way from Munich because he could not accept that she might die. He said he walked against her death and knew that she would be alive when he arrived. She was and she lived into her nineties. I like to think that the faith that Herzog put in the power and efficacy of the act of walking actually imbued his journey with real potency. We have become so reliant on the things we have created to make our lives easier that we have lost touch with the importance of utilizing our given tools. Walking is a very primitive and basic mode of movement as nothing is needed outside of ourselves. We have taken what we were born with, our intellect and ingenuity and invented and produced so much to improve our lives that we don’t even need to make use of our skills anymore. I wonder if at some point we’ll start to slip back down the evolutionary slide because we don’t need to remember how to build, how to shelter ourselves to fend for ourselves or even how to walk to transport ourselves.

Seed Stage

This week I went to a lecture by Corin Hewit a sculptor and photographer. The piece he spoke the most about was a project called Seed Stage which was installed in the Whitney. For Seed Stage Hewitt built a room in the museum and filled it with a vast variety of materials and tools. He had various types of food including a root cellar where he could grow more vegetables as well as an oven, hot plates and all the equipment needed to manipulate the food. He also had drills, a bandsaw, materials for mold making and printers and various other objects and tools.


For three months he just worked in this space manipulating the objects around him in various ways and photographing them. The resulting photos were not manipulated in anyway and were displayed around the gallery.



Some of the photos are deliberately composed and some happened spontaneously in the space. Hewitt emphasized the importance of looking in this project. He spent the majority of his time looking at his surroundings and then working off of what he found. The corners of the room were cut off so the viewer could observe him and be a part of the looking as well. I really love this piece. In my work recently I have been thinking a lot about process and the actual action of creating your work and I really like the idea of just creating a space for yourself with this huge wealth of materials and then just working from what is around you. Manipulating objects purposefully as well as accepting spontaneous compositions and creations.
This video gives a really good sense of the piece.

Flying Kayaks and Mattress Monoliths

I really interested art that makes use of familiar materials, manipulating them in some way that changes the way we view them. Nancy Rubins’ work is a great example of this method. I love that something as utilitarian and simple as a mattress could be formed into this great impressive creation. She can turn something like a trailer that is usually viewed as ugly and unimpressive into something interesting and aesthetically appealing. There is also the element of impossibility and control to consider when looking at her work. When you look at some of Rubins’ sculptures it seems as if they are defying gravity as well as their own natures. There is no evidence of the support and structure holding up the trailers or boats and so once you have come to accept the fact that what you are seeing is an actual physical object you hold you breath hoping that the whole implausible thing doesn’t come crashing down before you. But of course it doesn't and so you look at it simply holding your breath.




Jessica Stockholder also utilizes a lot of found objects, selecting them for their color texture and form and combining them in a way that takes them completely away from their usual context. Her pieces are strangely familiar and totally bizarre pushing you back and forth between your living room and some strange otherworldly landscape. Stockholder talks about her work and her process in this Art:21 episode.




I find it intriguing to try and look at common or familiar things and appreciate them for reasons other then their utility. Sometimes this kind of realization just happens accidentally; you notice the way your comforter forms a smooth curve from you bed to the floor or the way a shadow from a pair of kitchen chairs is perfectly symmetrical against the wall. But sometimes it takes an artist who walks around the hardware store and buys 50 ft of hose because it is the perfect shade of green to complement the laundry basket back in their studio to make you forget about hoses and laundry and look more closely for a moment at all the colors and shapes and textures around you.

From Great Heights

While I was in the library this week I looked at a column in Cabinet Magazine that outlined a minor history of falling from great heights. It listed a number of people throughout history who have fallen from great heights either intentionally or accidentally. Vesna Vulovic, a Serbian flight attendant, fell from 33,333 feet when her plane was bombed and she survived. Stephen Peer, a tightrope walker, fell while crossing Niagara Falls at midnight. Although there are theories that he was shot by a rival funambulist. Just last year, Father Adelir Antonio di Carli, a Roman Catholic priest from Brazil, took off with 1,000 helium balloons. He floated out to sea and was never seen again. I am really intrigued by these stories, but the one that really blows my mind is Project Excelsior.


On August 16, 1960 Captain Joe Kittenger of the United States Air Force ascended into the stratosphere in a gondola carried by 200ft tall a helium balloon. After 1 hour and 31 minutes Kittenger reached an peak altitude of 102,800 ft. He waited 12 minutes for his balloon to drift over the target landing area and then stepped out of the gondola and began his descent. He fell for 4 minutes and 36 seconds before deploying his parachute and it took him a total of 13 minutes and 45 seconds to finally touch down safely in the New Mexico desert. While falling he reached a top speed of 614 miles while is nine-tenths the speed of sound.

Learning about this completely left me awestruck. I cannot even begin to imagine what that experience must have been like or how he could have taken that step off into space. I am completely enamored with the whole story. What would it have been like to free fall for so long from such a height without even being able to see the ground when you began your descent. To even be able to see the Earth from so far away must have been incredible.

On this jump Kittinger set world records for highest parachute jump, longest parachute free fall and fastest free fall, all of which have yet to be broken.

There was a plaque on the front of the gondola that read "This Is The Highest Step In The World"

Kittinger recovering after the fall

Do Ho Suh

A couple weeks ago I posted a photo by Do Ho Suh, a Korean artist living in the US. I really love his work, so I thought I'd put up some more examples. Do Ho Suh's work is impressive for it's intricacy and delicacy. Having moved from Seoul to New York a lot of his work is inspired by this relocation and the feeling of cultural displacement he has because of it.


Seoul Home/ New York Home/ Baltimore Home/London Home/ Seattle Home is an exact replica of his parents home in Seoul Korea that gains another name as it moves around the country. Being so far from home, he had a longing for a particular space and decided to recreate it and take it with him wherever he went. Suh distinguished between feeling homesick and feeling displaced. When discussing the origination of his idea for the Seoul Home piece Suh said that once he got to New York he couldn't sleep because everything was so loud. He thought back to the last time he had a really good nights sleep and decided that it was when he was at his parent's home in Korea, so he made that home for himself and took it with him when he traveled. That transportability is part of the reason the piece is so delicate and light. He actually carried the home packed in a suitcase with him on the airplane. When making this piece Suh traveled to Korea and measured everything in house down to the location of the holes in the wall. I don't know if any of us have ever paid such intensely close attention to a place where we lived and I think it must have given him a much more in depth understanding of a place that probably existed as an increasing distorted memory before.

348 West 22nd St., Apt A, New York, NY 10011 at Rodin Gallery, Seoul/ Tokyo Opera City Art Gallery/ Serpentine Gallery, London/ Biennale of Sydney/ Seattle Art Muse is a replica of his New York apartment. The title of this piece also accumulates a record of the places it has visited.

A lot of Do Ho Suh's work is also focus on identity and the relationship of the individual to the collective. He utilizes multiples to emphasize the power and strength that come from the collective, sometimes at the expense of the individual. Many small pieces that alone are insignificant are put together to create a whole that overwhelms the viewer. There is a great moment of discovery with many of these pieces when the viewer looks closer and discovers the semi-hidden details.


Floor - A glass floor supported by 180,000 small plastic figures. As individuals they are fragile, but together they can hold a great weight.

Screen


Doormat: Welcome (amber)



Some/One - Created from thousands of dog tags. Every Korean male must join the army and serve for 2 years. While Do Ho Suh was in the army he said he learned what it was like to be dehumanized.

There's a pretty good Art:21 on Do Ho Suh that you can watch through the libraries website. The gallery Lehmann Maupin also has a lot of images of his work.

Tell me a story

Last week we talked a little bit about how people are not as interested in objects alone anymore; we need to know the history of the object in order to feel wonder. I wonder if maybe this is because we now have access to so much imagery as well as so much information in general that we are not used to creating our own narratives and histories for new things. We have become so used to knowing everything or at least easily being able to find out whatever we want that we feel we need to know the whole story behind something in order to understand it. I think there is also more focus on truth and fact; on knowing exactly why something looks the way it does, where it came from, how it got here etc. I really appreciate all this history and fact that we now have access to, but I do think there is something to be said for the creativity and flexibility it requires to create your own narrative for something. I think sometimes its hard for people in the modern age to be open and flexible enough the look at something that they cannot easily understand and place in a preconceived category. I feel like this is especially true of art, but some of the pieces that I find the most fascinating are the ones that leave a little for space to create your own story for what you are seeing. If everything is explained for you there's no reason to spend anymore time looking at it.

Robert and Shana Parkeharrison have a series of photographs called the Architect's Brother that are just really beautiful images, but also full of potential narrative. In most the explanation or history of the image is not immediately clear but they provide the perfect opportunity for the viewer to create their own story. They also play with the idea of falsification and created histories and scenarios which I think is really interesting.







Their website has a lot more of their great images.