Filed under: Visual Arts
I have a definition of “art” that I really like. I think I came up with it, but honestly I may have picked it up or parts of it along the way. What is art? Art is the essence of the human spirit put forth in a form you can perceive. Clearly not all that is art or called art has this quality, but I’m interested in art that does and lifting it up for people to see.
I recently attended a gallery walk in Chelsea with one of the young collectors/patrons museum groups I am a member of. Let me begin by saying it was a great event. A really top notch insiders kind of thing. But with all that it was, I couldn’t help considering what it was not. Everything presented was from a very “art world” perspective on what is interesting. The works didn’t seem to have much to say to the viewer. They felt largely projected at the viewer. And, well, with snobbery. One’s genuine response to it all was likely to be “hmm, interesting, okaaaay-I can kind of see that, or snore.”
Was there any internal response among those gathered to any of the work? Seemingly no. Did anyone get excited!? Not. Was that inexplicable fire ignited? Doubtful. I mean, was anyone interested in looking at these works for more than 3 minutes? Did anyone want to explore their reaction to the work? Would he or she even have the vocabulary? Certainly not … the work required a curator from the [museum] to even be in the same room with it. It would seem from the selected works on the tour that today if art is easily appreciated and understood it is not worthy of contemplation or conversation. Alas, accesible art seems out of vogue. So, what we find is a group of young sophisticates sleep walking for 105 mins through Chelsea when art should be making them laugh, cry or shout. It should make them feel good… or bad…at least feel something. Instead I saw stoic expressions–no smiling. We were in an aaaahrt gahllery after all. Inside people were probably saying something like, “what a weird and stupid video. I must be so uncultured. Look, everyone else seems to appreciate it. It’s here after all and the [museum] curator has selected this for the walk so I’ll just put a pensive look on my face and no one will know that I want to scream out, huh!“
Why don’t we see art that brings people higher promoted to the same extent as that which is shocking, pornographic, bloody and cerebral? I say more people are ready to encounter art that doesn’t brings us down. I assert that art can be-and should be- a catalyst for creating community rather than reinforcing too-cool-for-school cliques of one, two or three. I believe it has to be so if we are to keep our selves and our world from falling apart at the seems. Art is the glue that binds us to our humanity from the beginning of time to the end.
In this season of not knowing what’s going to happen next, of feeling acutely insecure about our place in the world, of trying to locate where we fit with the people and in the places that surround us, even where the we we are today fits with the we we were yesterday, can art help us?? Can art anchor us and save us from this terrible drifting, wandering detachment? Can art help us feel real? Connected? Present? I’m looking for art that can. As I find it, I will be sure to let you know and invite you to come see it with me.
Filed under: Visual Arts
Adventure. Surprise. Wonder. Discovery. Each of these describes my experience today exploring the “New Bowery.” The last time I tackled the lower east side art scene was over a year ago. Since then the emergence of this area as the next art frontier has been secured by the opening of the New Museum’s new building on 235 Bowery (this Saturday, December 1st) and a host of new galleries and spaces in the area. The lower east side of my childhood — Sunday afternoons with my great-grandmother picking out stockings, knives, girdles, pajamas (you name it!) — is a distant memory, yet the presence of the history and identity of the place remains. Just how long this area will retain what some might superficially call “grit” or “edge,” and what I would call authenticity, is anyone’s guess (though the days are surely numbered). Luckily, it’s there today for all of us to experience and enjoy. So, hurry on down!
Despite the fact that I suffered from a comprehensive, utter and total lack of any understanding about the art I saw today, I’ve decided to share my thoughts anyway. After all, isn’t that the most fun we can have with art? To have absolutely no idea what we are seeing and/or hearing, yet to feel an internal response nonetheless that itself is an opportunity, a new window opened, for discovery. See that. And you thought you were supposed to “get it.”
Salon 94 Freemans, 1 Freeman Alley
Aïda Ruilova’s single channel video projection, Lulu, immediately grabbed me. I was riveted by its nightmarish sequencing and its repetition of moments loaded with suspense, tension, aggression, anticipation and excruciation (is that a word?). According to the show’s press release:
“In Ruilova’s Lulu, three male leads portray Lulu. The recasting of the very traditional female role of the femme fatale with three male actors who constantly change roles allows Ruilova to play with gestures of seduction and destruction. This gender switch provides an ambiguity, an appeal to both men and women, inspired for Ruilova by the cross gender appeal of actors like Marlon Brando or Helmut Berger. “
I confess that upon reading that text, I think: “Okay. Nice to know.” But what’s more interesting to me about the work is how successful it is in communicating through its visual references, cinematography, music and editing in such a way that forces the viewer to emotionally participate in the unfolding drama(s).
Museum 52, 95 Rivington Street
Next, I visited the inaugural exhibition of Museum 52 at which my favorite piece is the following:
Untitled (Cabinet), Philip Hausmeier
Steel tube, steel rods, mirror and silicone
108 x 90 x 24 inches
2007
To encounter this work is to have an experience. Here the experience is one of violence, participation, destruction and, perhaps, dismemberment. In walking around the work, one sees oneself in the shattered pieces of mirrors, but only pieces of oneself, as if you too, the viewer, are part of the explosion, defined in one on-line source as “a violent blowing apart or bursting caused by energy released from a very fast chemical reaction, a nuclear reaction, or the escape of gases under pressure.” The experience is simultaneously intimidating and exhilarating. The work is best described by the following excerpt from the artist’s bio:
“Triggered by a sense of perplexity and wonderment, Hausmeier’s recent artistic practice explores the reciprocal relationship between physical circumstances and subjective experience. Sensory perception as an intertwining factor is investigated through transformations of the everyday. In his expansive and physically engaging installations, the artist inventively uses mundane objects such as steel, twigs and plastic to create a poetic intuition of simplicity.”
James Fuentes LLC, 35 St. James Place
After walking through a part of Chinatown along E. Broadway that seemed unrecognizable as a part of New York, the United States even, I finally found James Fuentes LLC and Lizzi Bougatsos’ solo show entitled Street Feather. My first reaction was quite simply that the show was a great example of something I hadn’t the faintest idea how to approach or appreciate. But there was something earnest about it, especially so because James himself was there imbuing the whole place with a sense of purpose and importance. After all, to set up shop in this remotest of remote places found by traveling over the river and through the woods, really must be connected to something of meaning. Some of that meaning clearly has to do with the revitalization of the surrounding area and Fuentes’ related project affectionately called “New Bowery.” Through the lense of this effort, I was able to appreciate some of the significance of Bougatsos’ work. In particular, Birdhouse for Humans, 2007, Cardboard, metal grating, wood, carpet, vegetable oil, clip lights, music player, pork loins (113″ x 97″ x 93″)– described in the show’s press release as follows:
“Recently on a quiet afternoon, Lizzi Bougatsos was walking down Avenue C when shenoticed a birdhouse perched on the side of a building that, judging by its materials, was likely constructed by a homeless person. Bougatsos saw this as an intensely humane gesture. Later she returned to the site to study and document the birdhouse, after which she commenced replicating it in human scale.”
Filed under: Theater
This IS Sanford Biggers’ “The Somethin’ Suite” at The Box on the occasion of Performa ‘07. I heard someone grumbling after the 8 o’clock performance tonight that this work was nothing but Kara Walker redux. Really? Whoever that was missed it. But before I get too far into my response to some reactions to the work, let me attempt to respond to the work itself.
The final curtain call provided the biggest hint of what Biggers is trying to tell us, or better, show us. The performers took their first bows holding large mirrors facing the audience. LOOK AT YOURSELF! This to me was the central theme of the work. Look at what you have been reduced to and look at how you have reduced yourself. If Walker’s work were about horses, maybe Biggers would be talking about horses too, but truly a horse of a different color. Much of the work was about looking. Clearly it is what we were doing as an audience. Tonight we watched a history of black entertainment twisted, flipped and tripped out to show us what this stuff really looks like, who is responsible and why. (Hint: the “why” is the so-called different color).
The opening act, Twintro, tells us why: The Southern Belles talk about the dead, those living without dreams, and the calloused. Even fire does not feel hot, nor does it burn. What else then that consumes and destroys do we fail to feel, and worse, take off our shoes and dance in? But if we could see, or better, sense things properly, if we only knew how to look, what would these images look like? These are the questions The Somethin’ Suite asks and answers.
There are aspects of the piece that are direct and accessible. The commentary on the reality television show, I Love New York, and how black people wish there was some way to keep white people from seeing that show! Cooning 2007-Style. I think everyone got that. Krak Addict from anotha planet was clearly a parody of rap performances that exploit women, but after CX KiDTRONiK said fat girl/skinny girl for, like, the 300th time, anyone paying attention would have had to ask themselves, “okay, what else is this about?”
A woman I spoke with after the show was beside herself with dissatisfaction. “There is nothing original here,” she exclaimed. The minstrel theme has been mined and this conversation is not new she told me. I was intrigued at the intensity of her protest over the time she said would have been better spent staying at work. I couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever consider the possibility that the problem of originality may not lie with the work, but with the beholder.
What is original about Biggers’ exploration of “this problematic, stereotyping as racist propaganda” (artist quote) is its invitation to the viewer to do better, think better…be better. The work asks us to look at these issues in a new way. Not as something others are doing or have done over the decades and shame on them for doing it and shame on those people who participate in their own exploitation and the exploitation of others. No, Biggers is saying something more. Indeed, shame on us for not having more imagination, more faith, more courage to think more of ourselves and others. In this way, the work provokes a very intimate, internal conversation…one that’s hard to do when calloused and hardened by the world. It is far easier to externalize, historicize and criticize the problem.
The woman I mentioned above went on to say she was offended that the television show Good Times was put on par with degrading rap lyrics. After all, Good Times was an important television breakthrough about a hard-working black family. (Word!) An interesting reaction considering that none of us went to The Box tonight to explore the “progress” of black representation in the media. But, I understand that it can be more comfortable to look at these images in their most positive light, that is, to find the upliftment in them. Truly, without Hattie McDaniel there would be no Hallie Berry. Right? Exactly. Now what happens when one takes the contrary view, as Biggers has done, and announces that if you look closely, it is all garbage. What if there is nothing redeeming? What if redemption itself has died?
Imani Uzuri performed brilliantly in Cheshire — her white face make-up not only a reversal of black face, but also evocative of a death mask. Her grotesque facial expressions and pained howling of Billie Holliday’s Strange Fruit should have stunned everyone in the audience to silence rather than illicit a pocket or two of laughter. It wasn’t funny. We were to look at her in all her contortions, dress falling dangerously from her body as she suffered to tell that story in song. She showed us what the history feels like, what it looks like: twisted and ugly.
My favorite segment was the tap dance audio mixed subtly with contemporary music and accompanied only by a bright spot light shining down on stage from above. The absence of a tap dancer to look at was provocative on a number of levels. First, on the experiential level one cranes one’s neck and one waits for the tapper to appear, but he doesn’t and so heightens the anticipatory sensation that continues and builds throughout the segment. Second, on a participatory level I found myself imagining that an invisible man was on stage performing for us-we just couldn’t see him. Here, about mid-way through the performance, was a piece that itself was a kind of summary of the entire work. It asks the questions: What do you see? What don’t you see? Are you even looking? And also suggests what we must do which is engage all of our senses and imagination-be our own creators. This segment also challenges us to consider a world where all the African-American performers throughout history have vanished (or never existed). What would or could the images of African-America be today if we erased everyone from the tap dancer to the rap dancer? What if we could engage our imagination and dream up new, different, (better?) images.
Biggers does not show us what such other images might be or look like- that is for us to do. He does shame us into wanting a do-over, or at least we should. A post-post(-post) minstrel cycle that starts at home, by looking in the mirror. The Somethin’ Suite invites us to step outside of the box and recognize that it is not the conversation that lacks originality and not Biggers who is a redux-ivist, but all of us.
Today was Michel Gondry day, winner of the 2005 Academy Award for his original screenplay for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I caught The Science of Sleep exhibition at Deitch Projects this afternoon just in time, as it closes tomorrow. It is described in the press release as “an exhibition of sculpture and pathological creepy little gifts by Michel Gondry coinciding with the release of his new movie The Science of Sleep…In this exhibition, The Science of Sleep movie sets are presented and elaborated on as to allow their more concerted consideration as sculpture. A walk through the exhibition will immerse the viewer in the sculptural experience of the movie in three dimensions.” And so it was, a totally wonderfully bizarre collection of video, installation, paintings and sculpture. Walking through the show you wonder how someone comes up with such combinations and contemplations. The actual meaning of the work, for me anyway, was almost entirely impossible to penetrate…until I saw the film.
The Science of Sleep, the film, premiered at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year and stars Gael Garcia Bernal in a sentimental, surreal comedy about a daydreamer (Bernal) who falls in love with his neighbor and struggles with telling the difference between reality and his dreams. The film is special and interesting for many reasons. Most stunning for me was how successfully it conveyed a deep truth about love, falling in love and being in love. The way it can sneak up on you and surprise you completely. The experience of going from ambivalence to near obsession in what can seem like the blink of an eye is so like the main character’s experience of moving from dream state to reality. And like with dreams, when love enters, it is quite hard to tell truth from fiction; what is real from what is imagined; and nearly impossible to see things clearly like one’s own feelings, the feelings of another, the reasons for this or that behavior…I titled this entry The Science of Love because love is anything BUT and Gondry’s film conveys this beautifully and perfectly.
Filed under: Visual Arts
Last night I attended a reception for Jeff Koons at Jeff Koons’ studio. He is being honored by Americans for the Arts at the 2006 National Arts Awards on October 16th. I have become a huge fan and supporter of AFTA and am serving on the gala benefit committee for the second time this year. I am thrilled that he is being recognized for artistic achievement as well as what he does to support arts education. Hosts for the evening were gala chair Maria Bell, Stephanie and Peter Brant, Edye and Eli Broad, Lietta and Dakis Jaonnou and Samantha and Aby Rosen.
It was a great party and an incredible opportunity to see the process behind Koons’ work. I saw pool toys made of cast aluminum that you would think could only be made of plastic until you touch them. From concept, to design, to casting, to polishing, to months of painting everyday and all day–over a three year process. Extraordinary. One of the “toys” appeared to be an inflated doughnut ring (it too was aluminum) hanging from an industrial hook. A very heavy red hook. The hook was part of the work. A partial “ready-made.”
I was especially excited to be there having recently grown in my appreciation for the artist on a trip last week to MoMA where I saw Three Ball 50/50 Tank (Two Dr. J Super Series, Wilson Super Shot) from 1985. The work is a fish tank half filled with water with three basketballs half submerged in the water. On MoMA’s website you can hear Koons talk about the work and the broader significance of ready-made art. He sees the ready-made in art as a metaphor for the acceptance of others. By placing a urinal on a pedestal and calling it art in 1917, Marcel Duchamp gave artists a new way to comment on the human condition. Koons continues the conversation brilliantly. I mean, if three basketballs in a fish tank can be accepted into the permanent collection at The Museum of Modern Art, imagine what you or I can do and be?
Filed under: Architecture/Design, Dance, Film, Music, Poetry/Literature, Theater, Visual Arts
Apparently, most of you don’t. According to a study by the Urban Institute in 2003, 96% of Americans value art in their communities and lives but only 27% value artists. Huh??? Well, some pretty heavy hitters are doing something about it. United States Artists is a new organization for the support of America’s living artists. Their literature says that: After decades of dwindling public support, artists now have a home where they may find significant private funding to ignite the creativity that makes this country great. We figure that if we help more artists to create art there may be more opportunities for people who love art to actually meet artists.
I attended a very special party this evening to celebrate this announcement. The venue was an utterly SoHo-fabulous loft with an eye popping collection of contemporary art. Guests were required to leave every single bag, tote, etc. at the door. No purses inside, ladies. I confess that I found it almost traumatic to leave my bag at the door. I mean, my blackberry was in there! But in spite of these strict rules, someone still managed to send a piece of art work crashing to pieces on the floor. Oh, the agony! The room was filled with A-list foundation executives, nonprofit arts executive directors and a patron or two. I was grateful to join one of the invitees as a guest and hear first hand about this fascinating new initiative. It certainly seems to have made a big splash, or waves, depending on where you are sitting in the boat.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Today’s New York Times Saturday Profile features Duraid Lahham, a Syrian actor who is described as one of the Arab world’s best known performers. The opening paragraphs alarmed me:
“THERE was a time, when he was a young man, Duraid Lahham said, that he thought he might help change the world with his movies. Not anymore. Now, he says over and over, art is useless as a tool for political change.
Art cannot change anyone’s mind, he says. It never caused a terrorist to have second thoughts, never transformed a dictator into a democrat. In fact, he says, it never did much but entertain.”
This point of view directly challenges my firmly held belief that art may very well be the MOST powerful tool for change–our only remaining hope for world healing. I decided to start a company that promotes arts philanthropy because I am confident that individual enlightenment followed by positive social change will result from our accomplishing Avail Art’s mission: to promote the global exchange of ideas by empowering people and the arts to engage in new ways.
By the time I finished reading the article, I was relieved that its subject, in my opinion, failed to make a persuasive case against art as more than entertainment. If it is true that Lahham’s politically charged works of the late 1970s nearly landed him in jail, yet today his art form –acting– is the singular space in Syrian society where people can explore “delicate” subjects, his art has been a powerful agent of political change indeed. Perhaps because he wanted to inspire revolutions or regime change, Lahham is troubled that the art form he is famous for fails to inspire more than laughter. But maybe there is more to celebrate than he realizes. I agree with Francoise Sagan: “One can never speak enough of the virtues, the dangers, the power of shared laughter.”
Filed under: Music
As my grandmother used to say, “If you don’t have anything nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all.” With that piece of etiquette in mind, I will not reveal where I was last night, what kind of music I listened to or who the artist was. I confess that I did not enjoy the music, at all, which intrigued me actually. The reason being is that I was at a very established venue and was undeniably in the presence of very talented and renowned artists. But for me there was no “there” there. I did not connect or have an internal response to the music. I was bored.
I imagine that what I experienced at that concert is what many people experience when they come to the arts. For every contemporary art exhibit, ballet performance, off-off Broadway theater, etc., there are well-educated and reasonably sophisticated people saying “I don’t get it” and they walk away thinking that art is boring and a real drag. They think, therefore, that art is something one should force oneself to do now and then in order to appear at least somewhat cultured and well-rounded. Absolutely not! Art can be enjoyable, inspiring, interesting, uplifting, eye-opening and meaningful (one way or another). Some things will absolutely leave you cold without the slightest interest in learning more or trying to develop an appreciation, and that’s okay. But don’t give up, don’t stop. Continue on the path to find the magic. It may take some time and might not hit you right away, but there will be something there the very first time that makes you want to go back.
Filed under: Film
Perhaps there is a down side to walking the cultured path. With all my focus on art and its profound importance and meaning, have I lost the ability to simply be entertained? Herein I confess to my summer’s guilty pleasure – BIG Hollywood Films. I don’t have much downtime, but I have made time to see X-men 3 (wow!), Devil Wears Prada (fun!) and yesterday I saw Miami Vice (hated it!). The reason I even bother to think about this film, I mean, movie for more than 2 minutes after leaving the theater is because I keep hearing from film critics that it is good. I know, what do they ever know? But this morning, on CBS Sunday Morning, a show I highly respect and enjoy, there was a review of Michael Mann’s big screen adaptation of the super cool hit 80s TV show. I sat at attention, certain that a show as refined as CBS Sunday Morning would echo my own reaction to the movie. WRONG! The film was praised for its visual aesthetic, darker and grainier than the TV show. Can anyone say, disorienting? And I was shocked that comments about the movie’s supposed love story were made with a straight face. While not a complete waste of my time, if only because two hours spent looking at Jamie Foxx and Colin Farrell can never be exactly painful, the movie lacked authenticity and intelligence on every level – plot, relationships, characters, dialogue… Random acts of sex and violence appeared sprinkled throughout the film in a disconnected manner. And worst of all, the central purpose for all the action in the entire movie is forgotten and never acknowledged or addressed in the end. Of course I deserve this, because I should have spent my afternoon watching something like Heading South. At least then I could engage in a conversation ABOUT something and reflect about the intersection of sex, race, age, power, money and exploitation. Today all I am thinking about is how much I’d love a ride in Sonny Crocket’s speed boat.
Filed under: Visual Arts
Wednesday morning I had breakfast with the Director of The Museum of Modern Art, Glenn D. Lowry. He generously agreed to speak to our Summer Art Circle members (law firm summer associates). I’m sure everyone who was part of the conversation felt inspired and empowered to create a space for art in their lives, whether by becoming a member of MoMA or by buying a $200 drawing at a Williamsburg, Brooklyn gallery. I appreciated most his comments about the enduring importance and value of culture. In the years and centuries to come, that is what will last. Not military things, governments, medical breakthroughs and technology. These things loom large in our lives now, but history will note them all as facts, simply as things that HAPPENED. But our culture will continue and its impact will be felt and referenced in the world until the end of time. I have often relected on the fact that our understanding of world history, people, places and ways of life is almost entirely through the art that has been left behind. From cave pictures to the pyramids to the Bible, even, each was the creative expression of the human spirit–drawing, architecture and literature, respecitively. The story of human existence always has and always will be told through what we create, through the works of artists that survive throughout time. By supporting the arts, one literally plays a vital role in establishing the record of our modern existence, shaping our own understanding of life today and how mankind will understand life in the future.
