Archive for the ‘art – others’ Category
On Hyperallergic, Joe Milutis discusses the recently-deceased website Dump.fm, in an essay titled In Memory of Dump.fm: An Endlessly Collaborative Image Poem.
Neither an art-world-ish “internet surf club” nor a monetized zeitgeist sump pump, dump seemed to harken back to a pre-1997 internet era, when it was possible to imagine that the users you met online were a small enough cohort to seem communitarian, but not large enough to merely replicate the social structures and hierarchies of the world at large.
Milutis' treatment of the site as a poetic language is appreciated:
Weird fragments, heavy dithering, pieces of images or text floating without context. Inaction gifs as opposed to reaction gifs. The quasi-syntactical combinations of these crappy objects were only possible if participants were more interested in treating the combinations like a language — one for which they would both have to amass the vocabulary and then be willing to speak with it. The rapidity of these combinations allowed for the unexpected, as if Breton’s automatic writing had finally found its imagistic counterpart.
Milutis avoids the political in discussing the Rene Abythe GIF below, except in the sense of dump-vs-tumblr politics and dump's intriguing disconnections with the rest of the world ("real" or online). For the record, it depicts Hillary Clinton's "pointing to the right and the red" logo crudely morphing into the Outback Steakhouse logo. (Electors asked Where's the Beef and gave us Trump.) The geek joke is that that the red arrow, when compressed, becomes a jagged outline resembling that familiar outdoors-y mountain range, helpfully rotated so we can see it.
Untitled (Baum 84), 2016, oil on dibond, 98 7/16 × 98 7/16 inches © Albert Oehlen. Photo by Stefan Rohner.
The Gagosian empire sent this image in a press release email -- tasty! At least, as a jpeg.
The show opens Feb 26 in the 21st Street space.
The paintings are big, in case your second loft needs wall hangings.
There was a time when Oehlen was a bad boy, sigh.
Louise Belcourt, Mound #28, 2015, oil on canvas, 66 x 85 inches
Will likely not make it to Locks Gallery in Philadelphia for Louise Belcourt's show so this is a "jpeg review."
The recent film Midnight Special, a leaner, meaner version of John Carpenter's Starman [caution: spoilers], imagines a race of perfected humans in a dimension "above" ours, who "have watched us for years." At the end of the movie we're given a glimpse of their architecture, very tech-y, CAD-designed, eco-friendly structures twisting and soaring above the landscape. Belcourt's urban vision above, for me, better approximates what an evolved humanity might build. Kinder, gentler, more integrated and integral than the film's Eiffel-meets-Saarinen machine confections.
On the other side of the design-wheel, opposite Belcourt's mound cities of neopolitan ice cream but not that far off from some of Midnight Special's skyscraper para-buildings, we have this clanking artifact from the real world, spotted by James Howard Kunstler (fortunately not yet built -- this is only a rendering -- but awaiting city approvals -- in Los Angeles -- near the airport):
Friendly aliens, if you are watching us, please intervene now.
full-sized image posted by jonathn on dump.fm
email if other credits need to be added
Paddy Johnson's explanation of this pro-Hillary Clinton, post-election art event in Madison Square Park isn't very clear.
On days like this, it can be easy to lose sight of the work that is being done. Amidst all the set backs, there are people protesting and taking a stand. One such example came yesterday in Madison Square Park, when a small group of 10 women performers stood clustered in the cold wearing pant suits and holding scissors. Organized by theater directors JoAnne Akalaitis and Ashley Tata, the group invited park visitors and audience members to cut pieces from their suits, drawing from Yoko Ono’s 1965 performance “Cut Piece.” The pieces of fabric, according to Tata, would serve “as a gift or a reminder, a remembrance of recent events and potentially more optimistic actions.”
Layered onto this interpretation, is the meaning of Ono’s original piece, which suggested that viewing without responsibility has the potential to harm. This speaks harshly, to those who chose to cast their vote away or not vote at all. Additionally, it continues to speak the disturbing undercurrent of violence and misogyny in our culture.
Presumably readers get the pantsuit reference (Hillary Clinton favors this garb) but Johnson also assumes they know the specifics and mechanics of Ono's Cut Piece. Johnson offers only vague suggestions of how that work relates to Clinton's election loss to Donald Trump.
Let's unpack it a bit. The Ono piece assumes an aggressive audience cutting off large swathes of the clothing of the vulnerable young woman performer, exposing her body, and it indicts non-participant witnesses who fail to intervene to prevent this humiliation. In the case of the pantsuit protest we're not told how much, if any, clothing was cut from the performers' bodies. The audience is described as "attentive and kind," so it's unlikely any bystander guilt actually took place. Unlike Ono in her piece, the performers were arranged in buddy pairs and had whistles ready if anyone took the artwork at its literal meaning.
Regardless of what effect (or lack of effect) the protest might have had in real time, Johnson editorializes as to the intended message: that voting for someone other than Clinton, or not voting, was the equivalent of standing by while sexual violence is committed.
The performance, Johnson notes, was timed with efforts by the Clinton camp to change the electoral college vote by convincing electors to reconsider their November 8 choices. If Trump had lost and mounted such an effort, howls of outrage would likely have emanated from Clinton supporters. The Madison Square performers' de facto alignment with the intelligence community's "Putin interfered with the election" stories -- also intended to flip the vote -- is not discussed. Also not considered is the cutting-of-the-cloth in relation to Clinton's own aggression. "We came, we saw, he died" (Clinton's brag about the non-judicial murder of Gaddafi) doesn't suggest much in the way of vulnerability.
Update: Just sticking this here, filed under "pantsuit" -- the LA Times reports on the pro-Clinton Pantsuit Nation, a "secret Facebook group." These private groups on Mark Zuckerberg's website have become quite the rage. He may be a data-exploiting monopolist, but it's OK to use his platform to host your political forums as long as they're "secret." And of course no one in Bangalore is monitoring it for content.
Detail of a photo by Ron Pollard (from a slideshow of his work).
Pollard's caption for the image, which depicts a billboard flacking Denver's Clyfford Still museum, is "Needlessly Menacing Cultural Advertisement."
Amen to that. Clyfford Still liked to depict himself as a gaunt son of the prairie, standing tall against cultural gnomes, but he lived in NYC for years, networking like every other painter, and then taught in San Francisco, acquiring student disciples for his towering ego.
In the '90s it looked highly unlikely that any city was going to comply with the terms of Still's will, which required that all his work be kept together and installed in a civic museum dedicated solely to him. Denver bit, finally, and is now committed to enhancing his legacy as a trowel-wielding American competitive individualist. Enjoy this work, or die, weakling.
demon via grass
Funny how that Google deep dream algorithm ("dog eyes in fractal swirls") became an instant cliche. One of the perils of modernism (the persistent mental attitude, not the historic movement): a signature style, developed quickly, becomes universal, then lapses into exhaustion as a mere marker of a two-week span in culture. Mo becomes PoMo inadvertently; the potential critic of a faux-shamanistic, visually habit-ridden language has too short a window to respond and articulate before it's already "over."
9 kb drawing by gummy4
Rhizome.org is having another net art ancestor-worship party, with their digital conservator slaving over a hot stove to reheat old cuisine. Art continues to be made, however, in ways that don't require conservation. Looking at some recent work by gummy4 and ptato0, there is a fairly seamless continuity back to some posts by a certain blogger about someone named Petra Cortright...
untitled by ptato0 (resized from original)
posted by SchlucHT
The above GIF was saved via the browser's "inspect element" feature from a net art project called Share This, by William Wolfgang Wunderbar. (hat tip CW)
Wunderbar's premise is you "feed back" the artist's collages of emojis, etc, into the Facebook data collection juggernaut, in a kind of proactive crapification of the system.
One could disagree with the idea that Facebook is our new reality, necessitating this kind of artistic response. If art is "about" subversion, on some level, the most subversive thing to do with Facebook, still, is not use it. Or share FB-intended work product outside of Zuckerworld. Hence, this post.