October 16, 2013 · Print This Article
The Art Market is inflating out of control, making all but the wealthiest few cry foul. Like it or not, this is affecting the way contemporary art is viewed and thought about. Meanwhile, Jeff Koons continues to be the perfect Poster Boy for the inflation, and it just so happens he has work depicting the nothingness inside the bubble. Simultaneously, Banksy goes for a stroll in New York’s neighborhoods proposing a different model. Is this the beginning of the end of the glutonous market? Or is this merely a long beginning?
Donâ€™t make the mistake of trying to analyze the Jeff Koons album cover work for Lady Gaga as if it were art. Think of it instead as a publicity stunt to drum up hype for his upcoming retrospective at the Whitney this summer. On the day the album cover was released, mtv.com ran a story with the headline: â€œLady Gaga is Jeff Koonsâ€™ Biggest Fan…But Who is He?â€ This collage of leftover studio remnants and a Botticelli print gets him access to a generation of people who are not likely looking at a lot of contemporary art, beefing up his celebrity status which he craves, at the same time adding to ticket sales. This, and the animosity from art enthusiasts will help make his retrospective THE BEST EVER!! Just a couple weeks before the Lady Garbage cover, T magazine – the glossy pulp supplement in the NY Times – had a stereotypically vapid conversation with the artist about his recent commission from Dom Perignon to made a limited edition DNA – shaped champagne bottle. Low end and high end commodity containers from olâ€™ Koonie Balloonie. Not too different from anything he has done in the past, but the labeling becomes ever more irksome. Consider his output for the last decade, where most of his work is sold before its finished, and may only show at auction instead of a gallery or museum. Not that this is such a terrible thing. What has basically become a high end boutique practice is frustrating mostly because it is helping fuel the glut of the art market, and then regurgitated into the art world as important to the production and dissemination of art, to negative affect. As long as we wallow in the crystal palaces of Koons, Hirst and Murakami, weâ€™ll think that art is as uninspired as Gormley, Marden and Â Whiteread.
Koons is in this rare position of being accessible to everyone but only collectable to a small handful of the richest in the world. As Carl Swanson recently stated in Vulture: â€œKoons can be the art worldâ€™s great populist artisan, even as he operates as its most exclusive salesman.â€ Â Everything about the work is right there, so thereâ€™s nothing to get. It is perfection and simplicity, the kind of thing that mocks you for looking too hard at it. Since critics are trained to look hard at things, they tend to hate Koons. And its boring to write about art just by describing what it looks like, so people tend to write about his career, his collectors, his record breaking prices at the market, his studio and the process of making his work. This only helps to build a persona around the artist, giving him the superstar flair that these major collectors are after. (And with this weekâ€™s art fair, Londonâ€™s Frieze officially bigger and more bloated than ever, superstars have never been more in vogue.)
Both interesting and frustrating is how Jeff Koonsâ€™ rise to the art commodity machine that he is may have helped shape the way the art market is an increasingly insiders game of fewer and fewer players more knowledgable about trading commodities than how to tell good work from bad. And with the auction prices soaring, the big named galleries just keep getting bigger in a kind of go-for-broke mentality* (not breaking them, just the artists they rep, in less of a financial type of broke and more of an artistic quality and integrity type.)
[*for a throughly depressing take on this, see Jerry Saltzâ€™s article on Vulture this week.]
At the same time all the grumbling about Koons’ latest fart hit the web, Banksy has been doing a residency in NYC, creating work in the city in his typical fashion – covert and unannounced – the opposite of how youâ€™re supposed to make art. While seemingly on the other side of the art world, there are a lot of similarities between the two artists. Maybe Banksy isnâ€™t able to sell his graffiti work for 33 mil, but he is still operating inside the art market, selling regularly and at high prices. Lately, his work is often either garishly covered by a piece of plexiglass bolted to the wall he painted it on or is removed and sold, either way being seenÂ by an enterprising public as separate from graffiti art and rebornÂ as high art/commodity. His work is no stranger toÂ auctions, museum and gallery shows, while being loved by mainstream society. His imagery is understood at first look, you donâ€™t need to read into it, and if you are, then you probably donâ€™t get it. Also like Koons, art critics hate writing about Banksy, saying there isnâ€™t enough to write about, because it is too surface and he isnâ€™t playing the game. But this game is being co opted by the wealthiest of collectors who have realized there is a market that wonâ€™t burst and canâ€™t crash, so theyâ€™ve taken advantage of it. Buying a Koons gets you a ticket into Â a very exclusive club. Buying the Banksy at auction though, means that you probably donâ€™t get it, because his work is to be freely viewed and is mocking the very lopsided system of capitalism that allowed you to buy it at auction in the first place. Getting it, though, is no longer important. Its having it.
As his position in the art world becomes more clear, Banksy’s art frequently criticizes the market, and the latest example of this was a street sale of many of his iconic works on white canvases for $60 on the sidewalks of NYC. The work and the saleÂ later appeared on his website, which is his way of providing provenance. These single color spray painted politically charged images lost all meaning shoved within the borders of these small store bought canvases, sold on the street among vendors hocking watercolors and prints of impressionist styled paintings. Subverted now to talk about the politics of class, taste and accessibility in a market that is more often hurting artists and keeping way too many people out of collecting art. It stifles artistic creativity to the point where every idea is either a recombination of greatest hits by the artist or an experiment to see how much money can prop up a bad idea. Artists start to flounder when they should be thriving. Shows are created for the specific tastes of the market and of a few clientele. Everything becomes dross and it feels like you are wading through a lake of effervescent puke whenever you go to a big exhibition, and anymore, theyâ€™re all big. ‘Cause if not, they may as well not happen at all. More and more, it sucks harder and harder to be a practicing artist in this climate. Unless, of course, youâ€™re Jeff Koons.
The acclaimed mixed-media creator on colonialism, women warriors, and the consumerism that pays her bills.
By Benjy Hansen-Bundy on Sat. October 12, 2013 3:00 AM PDT
“The power for me is to keep the story of the female in the center, to keep discussing and talking about women as protagonists,” Wangechi MutuÂ saidÂ in a video introduction toÂ A Fantastic Journey, her recent exhibition at Duke University’s Nasher Museum of Art. For the casual art fancier who happens upon it, as I did this summer, the exhibition was like embedding in Mutu’s mind: Black globes of crumpled plastic hang on strings suspended from the ceiling, a looping video of the artist devouring cake flickers on the floor, and triumphant warrior women occupy magnificent collage landscapes on the walls.
Mutu, a Brooklyn transplant via Nairobi, deploys mixed media to grapple with themes of consumerism and colonization, of gender and raceâ€”and war. Her large, lush collages draw from images familiar to us, such as magazine photos of bare flesh and car engines, which she transforms into works that are mysterious, beautiful, and somewhat terrifying. Her animated short,Â The End of eating Everything, done in collaboration with the singerÂ Santigold, depicts a colossal machine/beast/planet feeding on black birds while floating in a vast industrial dead space. In anÂ interviewÂ discussing the piece, Santigold praised Mutu for her “explosive renewal” of artistic expression at a time when vapid materialism dominates the popular culture.
Polyvinyl Records and Joyful Noise Records recently announced the release of Testimonium Songs, a studio album composed by the iconic Chicago band, Joan of Arc, and performed live in Every house has a door’s latest performative work â€” debuting this week in Chicago â€”Â Testimonium. Every house is iconic in its own right, tied directly as it is to Lin Hixson and Matthew Goulish’s prior collaborative project, Goat Island.Â While I was grateful for the opportunity to interview Hixson a little over a month ago, I wanted to dig a little deeper into the composition and collaboration present in the musical component of this project. What happens then when two organizations, drawing on two respective aesthetic discourses â€” rock and roll, and performance art in this case â€” meet to create something new? In this case, objectivist poet, Charles Reznikov stands at the center for both, creating a platform on which both musical composition and embodied choreography rely. In the following interview I asked Tim Kinsella â€” a member of Joan of Arc and author in his own right â€” to talk about his experience creating this record.
Caroline Picard:Â How did you start working with Every house has a door? Were you expecting to make a new album with them?
Tim Kinsella:Â Bobby and I used to play in another band together called Make Believe and that band toured non-stop for a few years. We acquired a pretty good collection in our van library – a cardboard box under the backseat. Matthew’s book, 39 Microlectures, somehow ended up in there and the nature of that book invites rereading. So by the time I went back to school for my MFA at SAIC he was the person in the program whose work I felt the greatest familiarity and kinship with. And we’re neighbors. So we ended up bumping into each other all the time and pretty quickly realized that not only did our sensibilities have some commonalities, but some practical eccentricities (is that a good way of saying ‘constant travel?’) also seemed compatible. The starting point for our collaboration was “falling between two chairs” and it’s the only way it could’ve been. Our band has always failed to be what anyone wants it to be and Every House, though maybe in a more sophisticated way, seemed invested in frustrating and confounding expectations. And the album is essentially a byproduct of the collaboration. I don’t know if I’m saying that exactly right, but what I mean is Â â€” and this is true of the entire Joan of Arc discography â€” the process is determined and the limitations and indulgences agreed upon, etc. Â The subsequent record just happens. At the risk of somehow sounding both overly analytical and hokey with earnestness, as far as I can tell, records exist only because the people making them somehow enjoy the process of making them together after agreeing on how to make them.
CP:Â What was your experience like composing new music for this particular project? Was it different from how Joan of Arc usually composes albums?
TK:Â It was the exact challenge that we were prepared for but didn’t know exactly how we would focus. We had been writing longer pieces â€” an 80-something minute score to Dreyer’s Joan of Arc that we had to pull of live; a series of records in which each piece was determined by how long one side of vinyl can be. One record was toured live before it was recorded and then recorded live in the studio with no overdubs and the one before that was made entirely in the studio, showing up the first day with no songs written and no instruments in hand, using only what we found at the studio. So writing in response to particular constraints was already our thing. A few years ago we had a giant and liberating break-through as a band â€” the realization that our own tastes had very little to do with what might be potentially expressive. Becoming comfortable writing against our own tastes simplified everything. I really just like Bad Brains and Lungfish. I guess I sometimes listen to Bauhaus and Can and Slayer. But I’m not interested in trying to sound like them. I guess people often write songs about their feelings or whatever, but I’m a grown man so I don’t really have a sense of what my feelings would be like and even if I could somehow locate them, they hardly seem like a relevant standard of value to me. So it’s good for us to have a standard by which we can determine success or
CP: On the one hand, the album feels like an autonomous project â€” something that one can sit down and listen to in a living room â€” however, in the live performance ofÂ Testimonium, the Joan of Arc portion is one piece of a longer performative event with Every house. How did that structure come together?
TK:Â Lin and Matthew are superlatively inspiring in many ways. The structural and formal balance that defines and sustains the tension of Testimonium is a demonstration that daringness and sensitivity are not contradictory impulses. It’s been such a privilege and joy to see how they operate and compose. They contradicted my every intuition and in doing so created this thing with some weirdÂ LifeÂ in it.
CP:Â What are you aware of when you’re on stage withÂ Testimonium?Â Does playing live music in a performance context feel different from playing at a music show?
TK:Â Oh yeah. All the rituals of live music performance are undermined and we love it. The whole catharsis-spectacle is frustrated and maybe we’re grizzled old cynics to find that liberating, but I promise that Testimonium will equally frustrate those expecting a rock show as it will irritate those expecting a performance piece. We’ve done 5 weeks of Joan of Arc regular rock club shows this fall. I just got home yesterday. And I am aware that I internalize certain shortcuts or tricks to keep count. Muscle memory is subconscious and essential â€” my weight is on my left foot for the 2 and 4 of this song and my hip knocks out on this accent. But the potential promise of a rock show is that everything can blow apart to smithereens at any second. It remains almost constantly on the verge of falling into chaos. Testimonium on the other hand is so controlled. The quiets so drawn out. The blocking so precise. It removes that essential sense of tension and by simply reframing how a band is set up on stage, the entire experience gets broken down to its core components. It’s thrilling and perverse while also so simple. And its greatest threat, it might bore you. Nothing in the fucking universe is more boring than watching the rituals of mediocre rock clichÃ©s constantly begging to be paid attention to. It’s embarrassing for the performers and the audience. But people not interested in seeing their live music stripped of those kind of cliches will find this difficult and maybe even painful. So of course we’re taking on a certain kind of associative baggage. But if that’s what it takes to draw attention to the usual baggage a rock band brings to performing, we’re fine with it. Thrilled in fact!
Every house has a doorÂ will premiereÂ TestimoniumÂ in Chicago with seven shows as part ofÂ SpinOffÂ beginningÂ October 18.Â Seating is limited for this free event, soÂ please RSVPÂ to guarantee your place.
You can alsoÂ visit this site to pick up your copy of the Every house/Joan of Arc record, Testimonium Songs,Â Magenta vinyl limited to 550 hand-numbered copies.Â “In a departure for the band, these highly structured compositions, developed over a two-year rehearsal period, emulate Reznikoffâ€™s poetics by shaping themselves according to a mosaic method â€“ rotating a fixed set of musical units in warping permutations.Â The lyrics re-invent the strategies of Objectivist poetry, by turns surreal, ordinary, testimonial, and explosive, releasing the undercurrent of emotion in the poems while (almost) never quoting them directly.Â Beyond collecting theÂ Testimonium Songs, the record has a life of its own, with the contributions of stellar musicians David Grubbs, Fred Lonberg-Holm, Michael Zerang, and Jim Baker, additional vocals by Melina Ausikaitis, and musical material not included in the performance.Â The cover art was made by renowned Chicago artist Jason Lazurus.”
Is this ok? Is this a responsible use of this privilege? How much does Bad at Sports pay its writers? Its readers? I’m like you, reader. I’m in the weeds. I’m in the thick of it. Everyone is paying everyone else too much. Our government runs smoothly but we don’t have any use for it. There are no trains and no one runs for anything, not even office.
This is a record of this moment but also a place to put open tabs. We should all share all the open tabs. The radio today told me social media was 2000 years old because we used to tell each other things too. I turned off the radio and listened to myself singing and chopping.
- Jim Davis (Princeton [but for this work: Chicago] filmmaker)
- Jim Davis (Muncie visual artist, writer) (also excellent to see a sentence where both “artists” and “entertainment” are in quotation marks)
- Jim Davis (“Dallas” actor)
Also, this band, The Fugue, that I saw at Bard in 2002 or 3 (first year of college). They were friends of a friend and they played a good show. Then, this year, I found this funny clip on youtube (though my interest in television courtroom interruptions).
This led me to re-visit this.
(which is really part of that this)
The re-release of Codex Seraphinianus by Luigi Serafini (which learned about from Bad at Sportsers PvZ and RH).
idyrself by Krystal South.
Editions and Additions by Jacob Edmund
(Draft for) Infinite Black FlagÂ
This other medium inane idea I just made up.
A gif for every one of 1001 Nights.
A list of the dumbest lists on BuzzFeed.
Under 1 who is under 1 (part of a profile on an athlete/artist who is 8 months old).
Sibling Cinema (thanks to the Frameworks list-serv for responding so well to my query) :
- George and Mike Kuchar,
- Jonas and Adolfas Mekas,
- James and John Whitney,
- Mark and John Jr. and Michael Whitney,
- Paul and Greg Sharits,
- Peter and Kathy Rose,
- The LumiÃ¨re Brothers,
- Jane and Louise Wilson,
- The Brothers Quay,
- Jem Cohen and Adam Grossman,
- Dziga Vertov and Boris and Mikahil Kaufman,
- Tom and Ed Bowes,
- TwinArt Sisters,
- Bruce and Norman Yonemoto,
- Reggie and Warrington Hudlin,
- The McDonagh Sisters,
- Nadjoua and LindaÂ Bansil,
- The Cifuentes Sisters,
- Albert and David Maysles,
These three, posted elsewhere, but that do something together:
Guy Sherwin â€” Man with Mirror (1976/2011)
Peter Campus â€” Three Transitions (1973)
The Marx Brothers â€” Duck Soup (1933, excerpt)
October 13, 2013 · Print This Article
“Art world badass, gallerist, curator, writer, swell mofo” Mat GleasonÂ brings in Episode 423 of the Bad at Sports podcast; during the show, people are called Ninny! Art school is shit-talked! TMZ! Lawsuits! Artists traded like sports players. All that and so much more here.
The week began with Edition #18 ofÂ What’s the T?Â from our very own gossip columnist, Dana Bassett. Bassett begins with good advice about “How to stay relevant through the weekend”, the weather report, the failure of Aiken’s Station to Station, and Feminism in digital art. As Bassett says, “Just some light reading to distract you from the shutdown and Miley Cyrus.”
For the first time in history, says Nicholas O’Brien, Phillips organized an art auction for Digital Art.”The auction, entitledÂ Paddles On!, Â is of particular significance because it is not only the first auction for Phillips, but also the first primary market auction to occur at any major international auction house to only feature digital art works” :
All coincidence of overlapping interests and timing aside, whatÂ Paddles On!Â presents to audiences â€“ both familiar and new â€“ is that artwork made and distributed through digital networks must now become more vocalized and represented within a contemporary art market. Many recent signposts have been pointing to this moment â€“ the heated conversation aroundÂ Rhizomeâ€™s booth at the ArmoryÂ in 2011, the outrage of artists and academics railing against Claire Bishopâ€™s misinformed â€œDigital Divideâ€ essay in Artforum, the development of theÂ Art Micro PatronageÂ project byÂ The Present Group, the selling of digital art byÂ AFC at NADAÂ this past year, just to name a few. But now it is happening, and already over half of the works have been bid on throughÂ Paddle8Â â€“ a sign in and of itself that now seems to be the time.
Kevin Blake interviewed Carl Baratta in anticipation of Baratta’s upcoming show at Sidecar Gallery. When asked about his relationship to abstraction, Baratta replies:
I was trained initially as an abstract artist. Itâ€™s kind of weird because traditionally an art student gets trained in figurative stuff and then they are allowed to meander into other modes of painting. In undergrad, I had a bunch ofÂ former students ofÂ NYC AbEx painters as my professors (students of Al Held for example). The figurative painters I did end up taking taught me how to find and extrapolate forms from what was around me. So basically literal abstraction.The work Iâ€™m doing now isÂ me backing out of pure abstraction and color field painting into something more figurative. Navigating between these two things is a major theme in my studio.Â Paint isÂ always first to me even when Iâ€™m trying to figure out the shape of a nose or a chicken, so it naturally is always first and foremost in my mind. I canâ€™t help it, I was brought up that way.
This week Jeffrey Songco interviewedÂ Lacey Haslam of Oakland-based BLOCK Gallery and artist Kari Marboe “regarding their newest project titledÂ Latham Memorial Fountain Unveiled.” When asked what “site specific text based work” was, Marboe replied:
Artworks designed conceptually and physically for a particular space, and in my case made with text. For example, during our thesis exhibition I worked with Dena Beard to find a public and easily accessible spot outside of the Berkeley Art Museum to place a piece. She suggested taking over one of the panels outside of the museum on Bancroft which is normally used for internal advertising on upcoming exhibitions or events and found a 4â€™x4â€™ panel that was available during the time we needed. So I wrote a piece that talked about being exactly in that space, the motions of coming in and out of the museum, in poem form so people could sit down on one of the benches across from the work and enjoy it for a while. The label for the work was displayed right as you were walking out of the museum, so people were stopping and asking, â€œwhere is this piece of art, itâ€™s not the Calder, where is itâ€.Â Another piece I worked for that show was with the East Bay Expressâ€”Â
TheÂ Jerome Foundation FellowshipsÂ have supported emerging artists since 1981. The fellowship comes with $10,000, studio visits from professional critics, technical assistance, and a culminating exhibition. It is one of the premier individual artist awards in Minnesota. The opening was full of people wanting to see that work, to support that legacy of emerging artists, to see who the Jerome Foundation had selected as the artists to continue watching, but I wanted to say, â€œCome out from the gallery. Come out to experience the real world around us. The work in the exhibition is good and interesting within the gallery, but it has truly come to life as I have lived with it outside, in the real world.â€
Curious about Birmingham? Mark Sheerin interviewed Ikon Gallery curator Stuart Tulloch:
â€œIf youâ€™re in London, youâ€™re still thinking about people who are in London, and in a sense the angleâ€™s still provincial,â€ he says. â€œLondon will think about whatâ€™s relevant to be shown or to be seen within London, and in some ways Birmingham removes you from that…This is an amazing place, with an enviable reputation and an international reputation,â€ he says with no hint of spin, â€It can say â€˜This is interesting. Hereâ€™s something youâ€™ve never seen before. Letâ€™s bring this person from the other side of the world to share something with Birminghamâ€™.â€
Terri Griffith waxes on life works via a $1.99 copy of Jonathan Biss’ long essay about playing through the Beethoven catalogue:
If we are lucky, our work becomes larger than we are and takes on a life of its own. Sometimes we know this at the outset and sometimes we come to know as the work moves forward. Iâ€™m thinking here of Walt Whitman and hisÂ LeavesÂ of Grass, which started as a slim and youthful volume of poems. Whitman revised this modest book until, on his deathbed, book had grown weighty, to over 400 poems. Over his lifetime, as Whitman had hoped, the work had grown with him.Â Pianist Jonathan BissÂ might similarly be embarking on this sort of lifeâ€™s work. At 33 he is undertaking to record all of Beethovenâ€™s Piano Sonatas, a project scheduled to take nearly a decade.
Sara Drake interviews the oh so lovely Anya Davidson who just released her first full length comic:
Chicago-based artist and musician, Anya Davidson, has recently debuted her first full-length comic book, School Spirits. Up until now, her modest print editions make her work difficult to come by outside of the defiantly small world of alternative comics. Davidson is probably one of the few artists for which it is appropriate to combine words like brush pen and bad-ass in the same gust. Her stories are often eclectic mash-ups of metal fantasies, female overlords, science fiction, collected vernacular and whatever else gets whirlpooled away into her consciousness. Her newest creation, a high school story that follows the friendship of two teen girls and their fanatical love of a metal band, is a keen understanding of comics as an art form synthesized with Davidsonâ€™s own radical tendencies.
Opportunities y’all â€” with such delectables as a Full Time Tenure Track position at the University of Iowa’s Film Department, APEX art’s open season for curatorial projects, Emergency Grants (offering emergency funds to artists for art projects) and open calls for the Journal for Artistic Research and gomes. Blammo.