As 2010 comes to a close, many things surprise me. One is the fact that blogs exist and that I actually have one (or two), even though I do not write as often as I would like. Another is the fact that photography still has such a cultural and controversial presence in today's world. This last statement is problematic in many ways, I know. Some would argue that today, more than ever and unlike any other time, photography is simply unescapable.
Let me try to clarify a couple things here. For the purposes of this blog entry (and only this one) I will expand the meaning of the term and/or the technology, by defining photography as anything using a mechano-electro-digital device to produce images via refraction. I will further limit it to the acquiring or capturing of such images without the element of time and sequentiality added (meaning I will exclude video and cinema here), or the conjunction with other media (such as print and hyper media). My regained wonderment comes from the fact that photographic images are still loaded with the burden of truth or proof at the closing of the first decade of this new milenium. In the age when photoshop became a verb, I positively assumed this medium had lost that punch.
A couple recent news events brought those issues back to the public discourse, and though they seem disconnected, they somehow provide me with two sides of a(n American) coin, even though they seem to be doing the exact same thing. As the busiest traveling weekend in U.S. unfolds, much discussion on the merits and concerns over the scan machines at the TSA check points are and have taken place. Radiation and patting aside, many fear the exposure/capture of their naked bodies and the potential distribution/disclosure of said images (this in the age of Facebook and Twitter image uploads by the million, or better yet, "With this economy, what about the children?"). This fear connotes the (supposed) proof and truth of photography as privacy and modesty transgressions. Whether or not such leaks will happen remains to be seen (the ones that have shown up thus far are not clear, as far as image rendering, nor flattering and enticing in a mainstream pop sense). As fewer than 20% of all passenger will have to make a choice between a latex and a radiating space, I am not sure I will ever be put into that position, at least not in 2010, with only two flights left. This age-new discussion (to scan or not to scan, that is the question), works almost as a decoy to the underlying issue at hand, gloved or otherwise - more on this later.
Meanwhile, in New York City, an Assistant Professor of Photography at NYU has surgically embedded a cam on the back of his head, as art. Each and every minute this eye-spy third-I device captures an image and sends it via the interwebs to the other side of the planet, to the new Mathab: Arab Museum of Modern Art in Qatar as art, and to be displayed as art. A question, somewhat close to home for me although ancillary to most, is to what lengths must one go to ride the train on the tenure track ( or "to peer-review or not to peer-review..."). The current concern is also on the privacy issues surrounding this project. Will Prof. Wafaa Bilal have to wear a sign letting people know that they are under surveillance (will he also need to only play elevator music on his iPod)? Already discussed and decided by his department will be the use of a lens cap while on campus (paging academic freedom), to protect its students' privacy (their disclaimer)or pontentially shield any future lawsuits of varied natures (my suspicion).
A solution to the scanning problem in airports, provided by some folks in the conservative crowd, is the return of profiling, meaning that only Muslims/Arabs or anyone that does not look like me (not my "me", their "me") should have their bodies thoroughly searched, with either the digits of a hand, or digital imaging. While I do not provide a direct quote here, anyone can read tons of opinions openly expressed that mirror what I have conveyed, in many news media sites. I wonder what Prof. Bilal, who was born in Iraq, went/would have/has got/will have to go through at a TSA gate check. Will he have to bring a note from his doctor or his boss (a different type of doctor)?
The underlying issue for me is that we have gotten to the point where our sense of freedom and self have been captured, so swiftly, in the name of an image, and images. These images are as much of "them" as of "us" and they all seemed to be detached from much first hand experience(s). This sentiment, this paranoia, and unapologetic stereotyping has crossed over so many spheres of public interest, such as politics, mass media, and academia. What are we protecting ourselves from, if not from ourselves? What have we got to fear, but fear itself? (paging overused cliches).
Definitions for "obscena" I found online (search as research?) follow: inauspicious/unpropitious; ill-omened/boding ill; filthy| polluted| disgusting; obscene, vulgar; improper, indecent (especially of sexual indecency); profane; immodest, impure; dirty, filthy; indecent, obscene; scabrous, ribald; unclean. I find these words potentially more fitting to images we have not extensively seen much in the last 10 years, of illegal searches, the handling and destruction of bodies, of forgone privacy and pursue of clean water/shelter/life (let alone happiness), of the fracturing and fragmentation of families, towns, cultures, of unsung heroes, of misled youth with the promise of something that never existed, of debt and loss and loss of debt, of name calling and not being called out, most of which (but not all) have taken place elsewhere, in someone else's backyard, far away, on the other side of the planet.
Obscenity can be understood as that one caveat that pinches freedom of expression. But that may be a mute point at this point. Laws regarding obscenity (words, images, actions) in the land of the free (which exclude commercial pornography) have mostly to do with the immediate/local context of what offends a particular community - that is, they are the ones who decide. But at times we seem to expand this approach beyond our own realm, beyond the schoolyard.
A couple years ago, at the 2008 FILE exhibition in Sao Paulo, I came across a fascinating, even if very simple, piece of art. Amongst the many interactive pieces of art displayed in the darkened room was a large reflective surface which displayed both multiple human images and a vertically moving bar of light, left to right. I then noticed many children surrounding this piece (I was one of the oldest person there, visitors and staff alike); they ran and slammed their bodies onto the glass, like bugs in the windshield of a car, or players in a testosterone-drive sport bumping chests. Their images were simultaneously captured and displayed on that surface, which I then understood it to be a life-size scanner. In retrospect I found their fascination with their reproduced bodies refreshing, almost beautiful. Their proximity (imagine 5 or 6 tweens pressing themselves onto a 6 foot width of plexi) was not sexual nor self conscious, their sense of self seemed somewhat collective, sans hierarchy, sans distinctions, sans prejudice. They all smiled to the camera and celebrated their bodies, their images, their choice, their freedom.
PS: While writing this I also thought about ways to include some info on x-ray research on lobster vision (they possess one of the most "unique vision system in the animal kingdom") that was funded by the department of homeland security , but decided to exclude because they are considering reflection instead of refraction... it is an interesting subject to say the least... file under "fun fact" or check out the link below:
As someone who frequently deals with the age old question of what constitutes art, I have found it easy to fall back onto a definition that, albeit flawed, works for the majority of the situations. In defining art, I believe to be important, no, paramount, a basis on context and intention. Of course this definition does not qualify art (whether it is good or bad art), which often provokes confusion as a means of dismissal for my (perhaps problematic) formula. And to clarify my approach even more, this is intended for visual/fine arts, and not cinematic arts, culinary arts, performing arts, literary arts, et cetera.
While it is easy to understand that almost everything anyone does CAN BE seen/understood/framed as art, not everything IS art, specially in view of contemporary art practices. I remember a few years back taking my father to an opening reception at Galerie Vermelho in São Paulo for their annual VERBO exhibition, which focuses in performance art. Right there the blurring of categories begin, as many might consider performance art as "bad" performing arts. My father, a wonderfully curious man without an ounce of artistic interest, got excited to come along with me to the reception when he understood the possibility of free wine happening there (not sure what was most attractive, the free or the wine). I was actually glad he came with me, because his unfiltered interaction with the performers was quite wonderful. He openly flirted with a young female artist locked inside a glass box (at one point he even attempted to reach over and touch her, not surprising as this is a man who thinks it is okay to rub his fingers on a Van Gogh painting - it's like taking a child to a museum); he took away every object the performers handed out (after all, they were free); and he openly and loudly shared his opinion ("what the hell are they doing?"), vigorously shaking his head from side to side.
But what caught my attention was his behavior at an outdoor performance-installation that went on throughout the night (as some of you may know, the gallery is located in an alley flanked by a hip restaurant, with a lovely courtyard). One artist set up an outdoors kitchen and cooked meals for anyone to eat, as her performance art piece. My dad basically sat there for hours and ate almost everything that was offered to him; he happens to be a cute old man, so I imagine even the artist found him amusing. Eventually I was able to pry him off his seat and go home. On our way to the car he proceeded to give me a critique of the food, which was not so good, but at least free.
I usually use this anecdote to illustrate the transformative powers of art (via the artist), how something that is not normally seen as art (within the traditional painting and sculpture categories), can BECOME art through intention. A meal can be a wonderfully nourishing and creative activity when done well, but if it is intended as a meal, it is not art. My father's experience at Vermelho was art, though it was bad food. Now, had this installation/performance taken place elsewhere, outside the holy grounds of the art gallery (the context), how would it have been seen and understood by others? If her (the artist's) stand was set up on the street, besides breaking some loitering law, would it have been art? I would like to propose that, given some other form of context (such as press releases, or photo/video documentation) yes, perhaps it would become art. Otherwise I would err on the side of calling it a wimpy practice of something else.
But two recent events made me think of something else that happens, as sometimes the artist's intention is not very clear, and the work itself is recontextualized by someone else other than its maker/owner and/or original institution.
Lately I have been revisiting some of my old music favorites from the 80s, 90s, and early millennium (the nadas, as I like to call the period between 2000 and 2009). This quest has led me to search for older music videos available on youtube now, which, for my chargrin before my Facebook friends, I have copiously posted on my wall, oftentimes followed by extensive commentaries and/or lyrical adaptation to the third person.
One of my favorite revisits during this period was the Madonna Bedtimes Story video, directed by Mark Romanek. This is one of the most confounding and surreal pieces from that time (with overt references, in my opinion to the paintings of Remedios Varo, and even some early Nam June Paik television sculptures), and lovely little moments and touches, like the sound of a computer hard-drive being turned off at the end (which, along with the modem sound, has almost been completely underused by artists, if not forgotten). Unfortunately I cannot embed the video on this blog because that feature is disabled on youtube (a common practice by record labels), but please follow the link below to watch it, if you have not seen it yet:
After some extensive research (meaning a five second wikipedia search) I found out that this 1995 music video was later shown and eventually included in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. For young artist working with time-based media, music videos as much as cinema is a common inspiration. But how can one cut a clear line on whether a Madonna video is art or not?
My usual reply to that was that it was not art, it was entertainment. Its intention was to perhaps expose the artist and ultimately sell albums (though the lines between selling music and image are here blurred as well). Its context was television (and now the internet), not a fine art context, but a mass communication medium (please keep in mind that again I am not qualifying TV as bad and Museum as good, but as parallel spheres that at times intertwine). So, according to my definition for art (even bad art), the above music video has neither intention nor context for being art.
So then, one might ask, what the hell is that video doing at the MOMA? And who gets the credit for it? Is it Madonna? Is it Romanek? Or the video producer, the DP, or the production company, or the record label? And how about Bjork (who wrote the original lyrics, which were revised by the record producers)? Unfortunately another "extensive" online research did not provide any clarifications (though I suspect it is attributed to all of the above, with Madonna's name at the front).
The last question of course brings forth many authorship issues, which I do not plan on discussing in this blog entry, though I will quickly say that the author here, in my opinion, is Madonna, and not Romanek (he was a carefully chosen and most important player, among so many involved in the process, but not the artist here - the conductor on this one Madonna symphony).
Back to the original subject, one element to consider is the function of a museum. A museum is a repository of knowledge, which aims to preserve and (hopefully) share its contents with many generations to come. While many believe that everything in a museum is art, specially in an art museum, it is important to consider that many objects in its collection would fall under the category of artifact. This would make perfect sense with mass-produced objects (such as furniture and posters), but lately even ephemeral or digital artifact are being included into prominent museum' collections. MOMA itself symbolically "bought" the character @ recently, and the Library of Congress acquired several million tweets from Twitter.
This process is similar to religious canonization, that is, the instating of a "saint" title to a very good person that accomplished many good deeds in their lifetimes (after much research and consideration by experts in the field). The irony here is of course the canonizing of an artist who is named already after a saint, and who emulated the image of another person canonized into art by an artist (Marilyn and Warhol respectively).
I always found this process of transformation, or trans-classification, or trans-contextualization somewhat problematic, because it, in a way, disempowers the person(s) behind the artifact. I first thought about that as a young college student, when studying the history of photography. I particularly remember the images made by the muckracker Jacob Riis, which are quite lovely to behold in a gallery wall, but originally meant as a political and journalistic move that actually changed American law, society and made it to history (please look up "How the other half lives"). From transgressive photo-journalism to objets d'art, I wonder how Mr. Riis sees his own work right now (he is probably telling himself "let's get unconscious, honey").
Coincidentally, this question was again brought up on Facebook by a friend of mine, Daniel B. It seems that the song-and-dance number this summer in regards to photography has been the new Ansel Adams controversy, the so-called Norsigian glass negatives. Many a discussion have taken place in that forum, in regards to who owns these new-found negatives, and why. My take on this subject actually approaches a qualitative point, similar to what I imagine my father would say: "why the hell do people care so much about boring pictures of trees?"
To put into other words, I am not sure why so much time is being spent on Ansel Adams in the year 2010. I also believe that whoever owns those new negatives should monetize as much as they can, that the AA Estate is probably doing alright as is (and most likely already profiting from this new-found relevance, or hoopla). But Daniel B., who I am almost sure completely disagree with me, brought up another interesting question, which prompted me to write this blog entry. The new chapter in the Adams-Norsigian saga (which I should call Adasigian, much like Brangelina), is that one expert is now recanting his opinion on the validity of the negatives. Daniel B. posed the thought that (as understood by me) we should all consider or reconsider what we look at on the walls of museums and galleries, and think about why this piece is there. Is it because of its maker, or because it's been canonized? Is it the intention, or the context?
I wonder if/when the Library of Congress and MOMA will begin collecting blogs...
PS: I am sure many would agree that photography itself lends to a permanent flux status, or constant recontextualization, as it operates in so many spheres of modern and contemporary life. Photography is a relic and reliquary, in both historical and religious senses of the terms. Perhaps some of this is also passed on to photo-based imageries, such as cinematic film and video tape.
this Summer I had the opportunity to join a committee in a local organization, Michigan AIDS Coalition (MAC), that sponsors a series of fundraising events to benefit AIDS-related causes in the region.
though I have been involved with AIDS walks organizations in both Illinois and Michigan (board member in the former and fundraiser in the latter) since 2003, this was the first time where I combined my engagement to this crisis with art. the event we organized is a yearly art auction and reception called Artworks for Life (A4L), which I have also participated since moving to the Detroit Metro area, as an artist-donor.
my intended role in the organizing committee was to bring in a new generation of artists into the mix. I contacted as many artists that fit the bill as I could (about fifty-five), and my estimate is that out of the 170 or so artists that showed at the event, about 35 or so confirmed their participation through their exchanges with me.
this post is not meant to be a pat on my own shoulder, as the A4L committee has worked so hard for fifteen years without me and built the reputation of this event. the fact that the majority of the artists already knew about A4L is a testament of their efforts. my goal here is to explore the complexities of issues that arise when art and charity intersect.
while many of the artists wanted to know the technicalities of the event (such as deadlines, how ready to hang the work had to be, how to estimate pricing, the level of junk email privacies, etc), some wanted to know if some of the kinks from previous years had been resolved. for what I could gather, there had been inconsistency with thank you letters and information disclosure on art purchases(some years names were released, some years they were not, some letters of acknowledgement arrived months after the fact if ever, etc), which is not surprising given that the committee is composed almost entirely of volunteers, and MAC's employees and volunteers involved with A4L were also organizing many other parallel events to take place on the same site over a period of three consecutive days.
another recurring issue revolved around the decisions made with the art work in the auction. there were two types of auction at A4L: the silent auction (where people wrote bids on papers next to each piece) and the live auction (the supposed highlight of the evening, with an actual auctioneer and fast-paced bidding). many of the artists involved wanted to know how the live auction pieces got chosen (usually 10% of the total), and who decided where/how all works were presented. the committee earlier on told me that the entire process was quite organic, with no binding rules, and that sometimes artists whose pieces brought in large sums of money one year in either auction were more likely to be included in the live one. of course a lot had to do with the overall appeal of the pieces and the name recognition of the artist. the actual display of the works was dependent upon the facilities (which have changed almost every year since I became involved), rather than curated - all silent auction pieces were displayed salon-style on walls or on tabletops. I relayed this information to everyone that asked me, in hopes to demystify any notions that a conspiracy was in place to benefit some and denigrate others. all of this proved to be true during the two day installation process, which I was heavily involved.
a few particular issues against participation were cited by most of the artists who declined my invitation:
1- the auction prices were way below the actual value of the pieces. this discouraged serious collectors from buying their works full price from their studio or galleries;
2- the benefits to artists (free ticket to event and discounted ticket price to guest, a value of $200 for $25), were below the benefits for collectors (who walked away with bargains), and the press exposure minimal;
3- the issues on how to cite the event in resume posed a problem, as a one day auction is not an exhibition per se, specially sans catalogue and official reception and installation documentations.
these reasons are more than valid, but there is always a counter argument to them. the third issue could be easily solved if the artist actually attended the event and documented their own pieces (I was asked by more than one artist in absentia if I could send them a documentation of their installed piece, as well as how much their piece went for - no to both was my answer given the sheer amount of donated works). as far as citation, one could create a "charity" section in their resume or completely leave the event out, both of which I have done at different times, for different reasons. the second reason could be countered with the fact that many of the collectors that come to the event actually collect art outside these events, so a broader trickling down of benefits to the whole region takes place - and maybe, just maybe, if your piece was very intriguing, you could actually get a sale to match the auction donation (I know of one particular collector that does that as much as possible to help out local artists).
all these points could be counter-argued by the umbrella concept of openheartedly giving. if one truly makes a commitment to give back to their community, with no conditions, the act of donating art to any event becomes quite easy, and enjoyable as well. I would also bet that there is virtually no artist in this world that doesn't have an older work of art stuck in their vault, that could be easily given away. pay it forward, to use a cliche. I even told so to an artist that suggested that the committee should purchase the artwork and give a cut of the event to the artist (but unfortunately we are not running a gallery). personally I am a firm believer in karmic equalization, that is, if one gives something away, one is given back somehow, and at times two- or three-fold. being an artist is already part sacrifice, so donating art work can be seen as another extension of that.
A4L was actually very different from previous years, and in many ways the event itself was much better - great (free) food, open bar, dance floor, a DJ two notches above Bar Mitzvah spinning, and even acrobats with skimpy outfits appropriately located next to the dessert tables. I am not certain of the amount raised in the auctions, if it was par, above, or below previous years. the live auction seemed to have raised a fair amount.
I was one of the assistants to the auctioneer and knew the estimated price for the pieces. while the more expensive ones (in five figures) went below 50%, some of the more affordable pieces went way above their estimate. the silent auction seemed to have gone under what was expected (my view). some pieces were sans bid, and many went for the minimum bid. in previous years I witnessed many bidding wars, but this time it was not the same.
as a member of the committee I placed initial bids on many pieces (including my own), in the hopes that sales would be stimulated. there were actually two or three pieces that I really would have liked to get. at the end of the evening I ended up spending three times as much as I had budgeted for myself, and left with seven beautiful pieces by six artists (my own piece went to a good friend of mine, for about 1/7 of the estimated time, after 4 bids). I left the event extremely tired but with my hands full of great art (including the ones I wanted badly, a first), and confident that together we had made a good go for this important cause.
well, my Pollyanna attitude changed somewhat as time went by. in retrospect, I ended up feeling like one of the collectors who went to an auction to get something I would have never been able to afford otherwise (one piece was acquired with a bid lower than 10% of the estimated value). I also kept recalling a very ugly exchange between two bidders that I witnessed towards the end of the event. one collector was standing guard to a piece (by a well-known local artist) that was going for a fraction of what it costs. another collector, who had not heard the closing of the silent auction (the sound system that announced its end was not appropriate to the high ceilings and large scale of the room), walked towards the piece with the intention of doubling the current (or so she claimed). when the guardian/collector saw that she jumped up and claimed her stake. it was a very awkward situation as I was standing right in between both (I almost thought an actual fight would take place). the late comer walked away and felt that the whole purpose of the event was to raise money, and not get pieces, so that, even if she was one minute late, if she had a few more hundred dollars to give, she should be able to do so. and this type of altercation happened in at least two other places that night (as told to me by other afterwards).
another damper into my positive spirit towards the event was an interaction I had with a staff member a few hours before the evening started, after the work was hung. I had politely asked them to please double-check that all donating artists were put in the guest list. I was afraid that some might arrive and be turned away, which would be humiliating to say the least. it would also damage my relationship to them (as many told me they were only donating because I had asked, since they had had bad experiences with the event in prior years). the response I got from the staffer was "too bad if their names are not on the list". that really infuriated me, because I felt that to be extremely disrespectful. that attitude supported the claims that this organization (and many others in the region, who constantly ask for art for charity) systematically take artists for granted. it is worth mentioning that many of the art works were bid and purchased by local artists, so again the old method of self supporting continued. I did not pay attention, but I would not be surprised if the said staffer was not bidding.
the questions that come to my mind are, what do we do about all of this? what will happen if artists stop donating their works? will that change in any way the value of their work (less exposure)? will that increase their studio/gallery sales (unlikely given the limited number of local galleries that regularly show and sell local art)? what will happen if artists stop being collector, stop giving their own money to get art from their peers?
and how is it possible to change a culture that takes art and artists for granted, even while having noble causes? what will happen to these organizations that rightfully need all the help they can get? I am not sure I have any answers to these and other important questions in regards to art and charity. but I believe that this blog environment might be a good place for a dialogue/discussion to ensue.
eventually I made my peace with the whole thing. that is what we have to do sometimes, the proverbial high road. I choose to believe that MAC and its staff had/has the best of intentions, and that misgivings and miscommunications are mostly due to stress and, well, being human. I also believe that the Artworks for Life committee did its best, with the best of the intentions to all involved (we were so careful to be good to the artists specially), as best as we could, and hope that our humanity and efforts compensate for any shortcomings.
at the end of the day we all need to put our egos aside and focus on the reasons why we decided to help: to give to a complex and important cause that sadly still merits much attention and care. with this in mind, giving back is what we take away from it. and that is more than enough.
...
PS: this entry about art is being purposely posted with no images, in order to recall DWA (Day Without Art), which for myself and many others might have been a first encounter with art and artists responding to the AIDS crisis.
during my thirty day adventure in Argentina, three things seemed constant: great wine, incredible meals, and wonderful moments of laughter. another recurring feature was the artist Nicola Costantino.
I first heard that name on my second day there, when I asked about local artists. her website, which features an animated conveyor belt with a baby pig moving from one end to another, was shown to me. at that point it was somewhat difficult for me to understand what her work was about, because of my rusty castellano and some navigational issues on her site.
a few days later, I was taken to the San Telmo district in Buenos Aires for my first gallery opening at 713 Arte Contemporáneo, which featured the works by Cinthia de Levie, Juan Pablo Garcia and Andrea Vasquez. this historic neighborhood has beautiful colonial architecture; this gallery was situated on two floors of a three story row building. the second floor was the main exhibition space, where the wine was served and the majority of the gallery goers found themselves. it was there that de Levie's exhibition La Cosa (my translation "the thing"), a series of dark waxy objects arranged in clutters along with ink wash drawings (the main exhibition for the evening), was shown. that same floor also presented a small sample of Garcia's and Vasquez' works in a projects room. these works were extremely elegant and beautifully installed, but possessed a rather international detached quality that I did not find remarkable.
upstairs the third floor, more storage than display space, held works by artists this gallery represents in three large rooms (some works hung on the walls salon style, others stacked along the walls on in piles). towards the back of the house, on what probably used to be a balcony (now enclosed with a roof and walls) was their video projection room. this narrow and darkened room featured a projection that consumed an entire wall (perpendicular to the entrance). here three videos by the young artist Milton Kalbermatter were projected on a loop, under the umbrella title of Gestos al azar (my translation "chance gestures"). these consisted of short performative works featuring the artist himself (whom later I met in the gallery) of an uncomfortable nature - reminiscent of Vito Acconci's Three Adaptation Studies (1970)- simultaneously enigmatic but rather specific (in one he holds a smile for three minutes while staring at the camera). each vignette was shown unedited, whole, with no title or credits given. they were simple and yet captivating, providing an intimacy (the space was small, the figure large) and ease without being too coy. I noticed that many people stayed in the room for more than one loop. I returned to it a few times that same evening.
when the opening reception ended, I found myself going with about a very large group of people to a pizza place around the corner, which included the gallery director, some of the staff and many artists it represented (along with their friends). it was during this dinner that Nicola Costantino resurfaced, though it was only on my second to last day that I put together her name with the baby pig. a few of the artist were critically talking about her, in a manner I found peculiar. again my castellano was not up to par, but I noticed that the tone of the conversation was mixed. one particular artist was describing how she had plastic surgery and was artificially inseminated to get pregnant, and her opinion (and facial expressions) were obviously negative. another person (I am not sure if she was an artist or not), who had brought up Nicola as a conversation topic, pulled out brochures of her most recent exhibition, and passed it around.
it was explained to me that Nicola had a sculpture background, but after dating a photographer she began making photographic self portraits. the brochure was exquisite, a great balance of images and text, and the print quality was amazing. in it there were photographic reproductions, of what I assumed were these "photographs" she made with the then boyfriend. they seemed to be titled Nicola y su doble ("Nicola and her double," my translation). the artist appeared in a variety of environments with a dummy that looked almost exactly like herself, to scale. only by observing carefully one could tell which one was which (usually by looking at the joints, where the articulation was visible). these images also seemed to refer to photographs of historical importance, such as Henry Peach Robinson's Fading Away (1858) and Horst P. Horst's Bathers (1930). one photograph showed Nicola holding a baby, which I assumed was the IVF one.
I got the feeling that part of the criticism had to do with her using herself in the work, and being somewhat concerned with beauty or vanity. this conversation was somewhat strange to me because I am in support of both plastic surgery and in vitro fertilization if that is what one wants for their lives (I am also a bit Orlan fan). it also felt odd because on the table behind us was an artist (Milton), who uses himself in his work - so why is it okay for one, and not okay for another? is this a gender thing? or does it have to do with the fact that one was present and the other absent? I thought it would have been more interesting to talk about the art itself, rather than talk about the artist. but perhaps when friends get together they can let their guards down, and not edit what they say in public.
the following week there was another event in Buenos Aires I was invited to go to, a series of openings at the Centro Cultural Recoleta, one of the best known cultural destinations in that city (because of its location and the many activities in the arts - visual and performance- they hold). on our way there we made a detour to the Fundación YPF, located in the posh and futuristic district of Puerto Madero (which really looked like Second Life). this organization, a cultural foundation run by a (once state-owned) petroleum company, runs a program called Arte en la Torre (art in the tower). the lobby of this building was circular in shape and reminiscent of London's Barbican Art Gallery (though YPF was only half used and left oriented, as opposed to the full loop starting at the right at Barbican).
the YPF featured the works of Nicola Costantino, and I found out that the brochure I had seen was from this exhibition as well. titled Trailer, the installation featured six small mobile home trailers arranged around the semi circle shape of the space; in front of each one a movie poster/marquee of Nicola and her double (the same images from the brochure) were displayed. each trailer had a different arrangement, and one could look into it from windows and openings on their side; one appeared to be a workshop, another a baby's room, a bedroom, and so forth. the second to the last trailer had a side door opened and inside a video monitor was installed, with seating arranged for less than 10 people. a sign outside explained that a 3 minute piece with an interval in between, would be played on a continuous loop. the monitor displayed the preview/trailer for a movie that featured the exploration of the creation of this double and her pregnancy. the images were beautifully lit, a la film noir, with dramatic music and no speech (the occasion text was interspersed). this trailer ends with Nicola pushing her dummy double, sat on a wheelchair, down the top of a stairway in a park, which I believe to be a reference to Eisenstein's The Battleship Potemkin (1925). after watching this trailer, inside a trailer, I was mesmerized.
as I walked out of the structure, moving towards the last mobile trailer in the exhibition, I told my companions "I want to see this movie" and they looked at me and said "there is no movie, only a trailer." the last trailer in the space had a metal staircase that one had to walk up and look down into it via a glass window on its top. inside it one could see the shattered double arranged within the space (which, in the movie, was subtitled as "the inevitable").
this art experience was very profound to me. in addition to loving her play of words (the multiple meanings of the word trailer), the display of a fragile and obsessive relationship with the represented self felt honest and clever to me. language barrier aside, I understood that this artist was making as much a statement about the mystique of artists in art, as a critique to her critics (which from my dinner experience, was that of her being a narcissistic artist). while in the popular or colloquial sense of narcissism has to do with one being obsessed with their own appearance or image (hence the comments on plastic surgery and independent baby production), psychologically speaking this has more to do with the inability to separate self from an object condition. in art this could manifest via a constant examination of a represented self. I imagine the irritation and intimidation others have of this type of (art) practice has got to do with the direct confrontation one has with private concerns (as anyone arguably spends a considerable time editing what images of themselves they post on Facebook, for example, or looking at themselves in the mirror every morning). it is an artist's job, at times, to put their audience in this uncomfortable place - hopefully beyond the initial repulsion some self-reflexivity will occur. with this interpretation I found Nicola Costantino's art to be touching and giving, and I left YPF very moved. whether we admit to ourselves (or even realize) or not, we all long to find/create/own that perfect but separate self; some of us spend our entire lives looking for it on someone else, or attempting to make that other into our own image.
her approach to representing her self with spatial and time-based media was directly oppositional but relatable to another artist I met in Argentina, Hernan Khourian. utilizing an experimental but documentary approach, Hernan creates extensive, and often nonverbal video sequences that delineate but not narrate a particular topic or series of concepts. throughout his pieces there is an implication of the self, via a reflected image on a mirror-like surface, the rapid and repetitive movement of a handheld camera, and sometimes indexical vestiges in audio (walking, breathing, et cetera). his works have a great similarity to early Bill Viola's pieces, such as Sweet Light (1977), I do not know what it is I am like (1986), and to some extent The Reflecting Pool (1977-79). Like Nicola's work, a lot of what takes place is left out of the video space, in the editing suite. what we are presented with are fragments of larger and unknown narratives; it is our job to connect the dots, to imagine what happened in between scenes, and why the artist decided to (re) present these to us. Unlike Nicola's video, Hernan's are quite lengthy; both artists left me wanting more. to find out more about his works, please read his own words on E-TERVIEW.
Nicola's name came up one last time during another dinner conversation with a local artist. this time I was able to ask more questions and understand more of the issues so many peers had with her work (though not necessarily agree with them). I finally understood that the plastic surgery, lipo suction, was done for an art piece called Savon de Corps (2004), which were a series of soap bars made with her own fat that sold for US$1,000 each. this sort of surprised me because I felt that it was somewhat unoriginal, or obvious (as a young artist I thought of doing that myself after watching the movie "Fight Club" with Brad Pitt). the same went for her construction of her double to scale; I thought Charles Ray's self orgy was way more poignant[Oh! Charley Charley Charley (1992)]. but speaking of parts or elements never do justice to an entire picture; Nicola's effectiveness is in the combination of bodily concerns with language, the construction/construing of meaning alongside the making of bodies.
when comparing the video works of these two Argentine artists, Hernan Khourian and Nicola Costantino, I encountered two ways of understanding self and artist. one leaves the self out of the picture (but I gather a better understanding of whom he is and how he experiences the world), while the other centers the work on herself, but manages to elude me and confound others.
my last encounter with Nicola was a few days before my departure, on another field trip to Buenos Aires, at arteBA '10, an international art fair, which featured hundreds of Argentine galleries and some from Latin America, the US and Europe. like most similar events around the world, it was held in a convention center, where each gallery had a mock space or booth with a selection from their roster. these events are also quite extensive and tiresome, similar to a trip to a mall where, for some reason, you fell compelled to go into every single store. we spent about four hours at arteBA, and saw a mix of old and new artists, again with that same international taste I had found at 713 [though I have to say that their booth in particular had some incredible work, most notably a computer animation by Estanislao Florido based on Marcel Duchamp's Large Glass (1915-1923) - for which I do not have the title unfortunately]. I imagine we also walked a million miles. there was so much to see that it is hard to narrow it down to any highlight or best in show, or" the good the bad and the ugly." as we were about to leave, I noticed in passing a familiar face. in a small room, arranged near other pieces, were large photographic prints of Nicola's images for the movie posters in the exhibition (sans text and display apparatus). while those pieces had the red dot of sale, they seemed lost and undermined in that setting. out of the installation context, they looked sad and flat; center stage is where they shine. I wonder how these will look in someone's house, and what people will talk about (or refrain from saying) upon encountering Nicola, her double, and their representations.
UPDATE (07/29/2010):
the final version of this entry omitted one important and relevant strategy for self editing, which, after some careful consideration, I've decided to add as a brief post script.
please visit the link below to watch the international exhibition titled [self]~imaging, which was curated by Wilfried Agricola de Cologne for VideoChannelCologne. the breadth of the video works, varied in length, approach, depth, et cetera expand what one may consider a portrait to be - collectively they provide a snapshot of what can potentially be seen as an international yearning, or a complex collective unconscious for self expression and understanding.
in a recent New York Times article I read through Facebook (thanks to Gilda Snowden), a group of artists took residency in Governor's Island and worked for 4 months, culminating in a public day of events that will be open to the public at large until October. this project is sponsored by the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council. Snowden's post sparked some lively debate over state-sponsored ventures.
a space full of (empty) potential in Detroit, among so many others in this city, is the Russell Industrial Center, which already houses many artist studios, workshops, commercial ventures, a bazaar, and alternative spaces/galleries. this complex is truly amazing in its scale, and only a small portion of it seems to be permanently utilized. I added my two cents to the discussion saying that Detroit should promote an art residency program at the Russell, where four artists with a 6 months residency and a $15,000 stipend each could run for less than $100,000 a year (excluding renovation and administrative salaries)... my idea was met with some sarcasm, in part because there is truly no money anywhere in the city or state for the arts. many wonderful and established programs are struggling right now to keep their head above the water as is, so why spread what little is left with another venture?. I completely sympathize with this sentiment.
my thought was that such residency could place Detroit and surrounding communities in a better and continuing dialogue with the global art world/market (specially if it was run similar to or modeled after the Art Pace in San Antonio, with one local/regional, one national, and one international artist selected each year). I also posited that the Kresge Foundation could add that to their already extremely generous portfolio of programs for the arts in Michigan ( the same could be said about the Art Prize folks - this being the million dollar yearly project, soon to unveil year two in Grand Rapids, MI - they could jump in as well). there are many other wealthy and generous families in the metro area and state as well, who already contribute to many causes, art or otherwise. I am more than happy to get no credit should this idea ever come into fruition (as we would all benefit from it, one way or another), and would gladly provide the little know-how I have on the subject.
of course this thought has been sparked by my current situation, that of being an artist in residency at Casa de Artistas - Residencia Corazon, in La Plata, Buenos Aires, Argentina (this being my third experience in a AIR program). the specifics of my experiences can be read on my daily Notes posted on Facebook (friend me if you have not already). this residency program is institutionally supported by the Secretaria de Cultura y Educacion - Municipalidad de La Plata, Instituto Cultural Buenos Aires, and Universidad Nacional de La Plata, among other private organizations. artists participating also contribute with a nominal fee. currently, all residencies are either one or two months long.
Rodrigo Mirto and Juan Pablo Ferrer are the directors for this residency program. both have other professional activities on the side, Mirto is an artist that works in sculpture and painting, as well as a custom maker of iron rod fixtures for private homes. Ferrer does some photography and video on his own time, in addition to co-directing La Plata's International Independent Film Festival and running the year-round programing for the Cine at the Centro Cultural Pasaje Dardo Rocha. a few days ago we were talking about the economic situation in the U.S. and I explained how things have changed, though now it is either getting better, people are getting used to it, or the media found a sexier subject to cover. in so many words (still some language barrier in our communications) they told me that what we see as our current struggle is something they have always had to deal with, that being an artist or in a creative field in Argentina has always meant you have to do something else, on the side(s).
a few days later, while touring the city, we went to the (state run) Fine Arts College and walked around. the building, which also housed a secondary school, a library and the university radio channels, was somewhat falling apart (though the library was beautifully renovated, albeit a bit hot), but the high energy was palpable, with bright-eyed students talking and practicing their art, singing, playing instruments, sketching, everywhere (combine "fame" with "buena vista social club" to get a sense). the college radio station was on the top floor, so we went for a visit and met Oscar Jalil, among others, the coordinator for 107.5 FM, who also curates the exhibitions at the (city sponsored) Malvinas Centro Cultural and writes for the Argentine Rolling Stones. the usual mate drinking and indoor smoking took place, along fast conversation and with David Bowie playing in the background). a day later I went to the Malvinas complex for a double opening reception, but that is subject for another blog entry.
one expectation and anxiety on going into a residency program is the shut out factor of not having television available. this of course is not usually a problem if there is an internet connection available, if you are still in the U.S. (or whatever country you are from) and access to local programing. but when you are abroad most American television is off limits. that, compounded with the lack of telephonic communication at an affordable rate, gives you a lot of thinking time (and many hours wasted looking at cats on youtube). Ferrer gave me to watch a DVD by Hernan Khourian, a local artist who works with video. of special interest to me was a video titled Esplin o errar o sin embargo (18 minutes, color, 2007) that he created while doing an artist residency in Paris. this piece had some of the reflexive energy, wonderment and mesmerizing visuality of early Bill Viola pieces, such as sweet light (1977) and I do not know what it is I am like (1986), but with a more youthful, contemporary edge/references. his residency required that the work reflected his experiences in Paris, so he combined images of the Eiffel Tower as seen from a window of his living quarters (a space that almost felt like a prison or hospital), with webcam images of the same tower from the internet. the program he participated in was sponsored by the Ville de Paris, el Ministerio de Cultura de la Ciudad Autonoma de Buenos Aires, and the French Embassy in Argentina. Khorian, who now teaches at the university level in La Plata and Lanús, has also earned many artist prizes that are state funded.
while federal and regional government funding for the arts is common throughout Latin America and Europe (though at times limited and also shrinking - they have their struggles, but they keep going and going strong), and I imagine in other parts of the world, in the U.S. it varies from state to state. Since the 80's NEA backlash many Arts Councils have struggle to keep what they have going. the current economic climate does not help either. Michigan began a tax incentive for film-making, and the region has seen some of the benefits already (though it is not a gold mine). but why not extend such benefits to other art forms? why not reserve a portion of State tax to the arts? Michigan has a population of about 10 million people, almost 3.8 million households in 2000 (per http://quickfacts.census.gov/qfd/states/26000.html). if less than $1, even a quarter or a dime, from each Michigan household's collected income was geared toward the visual arts (you may say I am a dreamer), the state could position itself as a competitive and creative environment that embraces intellectual pursuits as a right to its people, and the ones that choose to move there. instead Michigan has had a continued population bleed, or brain drain, for many years now (per http://detnews.com/article/20090402/METRO/904020403/Leaving-Michigan-Behind--Eight-year-population-exodus-staggers-state). and this state is not alone in that, as the American mindset promotes, rightly so, the seeking of opportunities where opportunities are. ironically, countries with less economic power seem to have greater support for the arts. we might want to learn from them or we will be left behind, on the side.
