“Thumbing granite rocks into the womb of a marshmallow mermaid, sopping granite compound orgiastic waterfalls on the cotton fields of heaven.”
That is how the press release opens. Woah. This Saturday, August 8th, Scott Projects is welcoming London based artists Sopping Granite (Ben Vickers and Sarah Hartnett) for the show The First Letter of Every Word is You. Apparently, they exchange ideas via telepathy. Definitely check out their website, which seems to serve as part portfolio, part research notebook, and part collage.
Here is the link to the Facebook event page. Hope to see you there!
Last week the Chicago MCA’s Elizabeth Smith announced she would resign her post as chief curator at the end of the month, explaining that ten years in the position was long enough and it was time to move on. Fair enough. Curators are increasingly expected to be peripatetic nowadays, which suits our globalized art world and helps keep an institution’s perspective fresh and forward-thinking — but it also makes it hard for curators to maintain longstanding ties with local artists.
On a personal note, when I was an assistant curator in Los Angeles, I worked for the museum that co-organized Smith’s Lee Bontecou exhibition. At that time I was utterly taken by the romantic ideal that Smith’s relationship with Bontecou represented for me, and I still am. Smith pursued Bontecou for years before being given access to the reclusive artist’s work. When Smith was still a curator at MOCA in L.A., she organized a small Bontecou survey without any participation from the artist (though she tried repeatedly to get in touch with Bontecou). Bontecou eventually came to see the show, and wrote Smith a letter afterwards saying how much she liked it.
Over the years Smith developed a strong relationship with Bontecou, eventually gaining access to the treasure trove of work that the artist had kept mostly private after exiting the art world (or the New York art world, at any rate) in the early 70s. It’s no surprise, then, that Smith cites her 2004 Bontecou retrospective as a professional and personal highlight.
There are lots of different ways one can “be” a curator, but to me, Smith’s dogged pursuit of an artist who didn’t always want to be pursued, but knew she had to be, for the sake of art history if nothing else–represents a pinnacle of what the profession can accomplish. Smith’s low-key, artist-centric style of curating may be somewhat less in fashion nowadays, but I admire it tremendously. To me, she’s a model of how a curator can built strong ties and a relationship of trust over many years with artists whose work they believe in. Here’s wishing Ms. Smith the best of luck in her upcoming endeavors–I can’t wait to see what she cooks up next.
We don’t normally cover Chicago architecture and landscape issues in any depth on this blog, given that a) we’re nowhere near experts on the subject and b) the city has several stellar architecture journalists reporting on the scene and blogging daily about it. But when I saw the pictures below, my eyes literally hurt. My soul did too.
These are before and after pictures of the Michael Reese Hospital campus in the Bronzeville area of South Chicago, much of whose landscaping was clear cut this month, ostensibly to make way for a possible future Olympic Village site (and, after the Olympics are over, some form of mixed income housing). Of course, we haven’t even secured the 2016 games yet, and there’s no guarantee that we will — but the City has moved forward anyway. The result? A park that was once lush, green and peaceful has been literally scraped off the face of the earth.
The images posted above are taken from the Gropius in Chicago Coalition website, which issued a statement yesterday on the park’s destruction. An excerpt:
In an act of cultural and environmental violence that has shocked the South Side, the City of Chicago and the Chicago 2016 Bid Committee have destroyed the beloved central parklands at Michael Reese Hospital. Sparing only a few trees, the community parks have been “clear cut.” Hundreds of trees have been killed, and all shrubbery, flowers, and ground cover has been scraped from the site. The new scorched earth setting, carefully masked from the surefire embarrassment of public scrutiny behind a thin veil of preserved vegetation and construction fencing, is a shock to all who have known and loved the campus in its original state. The landscapes at Michael Reese were designed by Hideo Sasaki (of Sasaki + Novak, later Sasaki Walker), and Lester Collins, two of America’s premiere landscape architects. The landscape designers both worked closely with Walter Gropius and his associates at The Architects Collaborative to develop the landscapes in keeping with Gropius’ architecture and site planning theories. Prominent Art and architecture Critic Lynn Becker has called these settings “some of the most beautiful landscapes in the city.” (Read the full statement by clicking here).
What’s worse, the destruction won’t necessarily end with the flattening of the campus’ landscape. The Hospital buildings, which were co-designed by famed Bauhaus architect Walter Gropius, may also be demolished.
Tomorrow, August 6th, the Commission on Chicago Landmarks will meet to consider “whether to recommend to the Illinois Historic Advisory Council whether the campus should be nominated to the National Register of Historic Places,” Blair Kamin reported yesterday in his Cityscapes blog for the Tribune. “If the campus were given National Register status,” Kamin notes, “it would mean that state historic preservation officials would be called in before federal funds could be used for demolition” of the buildings.
The Gropius Coalition has also put out an urgent call for Chicagoans who are invested in this issue to attend a critical community meeting next Tuesday August 11th. The meeting will cover the 2016 Olympic plans for the 3rd, 4th, and 20th wards (which contain Michael Reese Hospital) and will take place at the Chicago Urban League, 4510 S. Michigan Avenue at 6:00 pm. The Coalition organizers note that
Alderman Preckwinkle specifically stated in an earlier meeting that the August 11 meeting is the preferred forum for Chicago residents to voice their concerns about Michael Reese Hospital. A large turn out is essential, so please encourage your friends and family to participate! This may be one of our best chances to make an impact to the 2016 Olympic Committee. Remember that demolition is proceeding and without our support, the campus may not survive even until the IOC vote in October.
If you’re not already up to speed on the issue, here are a few more links to get you going, starting with Ben Joravsky’s article in the Chicago Reader illuminating the political angle of this debacle. The article’s headline suggests that the fate of Michael Reese Hospital “is just a taste of how the Olympics will drive public policy if Chicago wins the games.” Read Joravsky’s reportage and analysis for the Chicago Reader here: Michael Reese Hospital: The First Sacrificial Lamb; it’s critical to understanding the full ramifications of this issue.
Chicago architecture bloggers Lynn Becker and Edward Lifson have also been following the story; two links follow below:
Today on Boing Boing Xeni Jardin posted long lost footage of the Andy Warhol produced musical Plastic Bouquets- Man on the Moon. “The play was conceived by John Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas and his third wife, South African actress, Genevieve Waite, as a potential film or stage production originally entitled ‘Space.”
For more on the video footage and on the musical check out boing boing’s post.
I should say chimpsh*t, technically. We all know better than to mix our monkeys, chimps and bonobos, right? Artist Alison Ruttan has a longstanding interest in primate social interactions, and in her work she has often looked at chimp and bonobo behavior alongside that of their human counterparts.
In series such as Bred in the Bone, Ruttan (who was interviewed on Episode 28 of the podcast) looks at a range of chimpanzee and bonobo behaviors–from the aggressive to the intimate to the routine–in order to ask what, if anything, really separates human beings from our primate ancestors. Ruttan describes the project thusly:
It is possible to speculate that our shared social responses go all the way back to a common ancestor that humans, bonobos and chimpanzees all evolved from. We are all relatively newer species that evolved from this common ancestor somewhat close in time to each other, perhaps some 3-6 million years ago. Frans de Waal states in his book Tree of Origin thatNot only are chimpanzees and bonobos our closest relatives, the reverse is also true; that is chimpanzees and bonobos are closer to us than to, say gorillas.Does that mean our behavior is biological in origin or that we have passed on these similar responses through culture memory? I have found that in actively comparing the nuances of our shared behavior it is hard not to see these comparisons everywhere you look. It has changed the way I see our own actions, sometimes it seems that we assume we are reacting to situations in a rational manner, we seem unaware at times of the way biology guides our actions and surprised when we don’t like the results.
Last weekend I was able to get a firsthand glimpse of Ruttan at work on the latest iteration of this project, a storyboard narrative recreating some of primatologist Jane Goodall’s photographs of wild chimpanzee families. Ruttan asked a group of friends and neighbors to re-stage some of these scenes in a heavily wooded (and mosquito-ed, natch) area on the Desplaines riverbed in River Forest, Illinois.
People of all ages showed up to gamely pose according to Ruttan’s instructions. No one was asked to behave in an overtly chimplike manner–indeed, part of what Ruttan’s work gets at is that there’s precious little that actually separates us from our chimp forbears. Instead, Ruttan sought to recreate key moments where primate and human behaviors cross-reference one another. So some of us groomed each other, or our children. The older kids triumphantly wielded big sticks and fallen tree branches while the younger ones enviously chased after them. Children gleefully took part in a project that allowed them to leap onto the backs of adults or chew bananas with their mouths open, to get muddy and scratch themselves in rude places and, best of all, to receive an inordinate amount of positive attention for doing so.
What fascinated me about the shoot itself was how familial it all felt, so much so that it was hard to tell who belonged with who in the group–who were the parents, who were the grandparents, who had kids, who didn’t. Despite the inherent diversity in the group there was an almost intimate, family-picnic feel to the endeavor that was surprising, given that most of us had never met before.
As one might expect, the kids seemed to have the best time of everyone, although when it was over one tiny miscreant could be heard bitching about the fact that she had not been allowed to fling excrement at people “the way real monkeys do.”
You can find more information about Ruttan’s work along with video clips from her Bred in the Bone project here, and additional images and information about the artist on the Monique Meloche Gallery website.