I am looking forward to see the first wave of fall colors. The fall foliage is spectacular (see here). I'll post photos and an update when I arrive.
Today there are more artists working in more genres, using more varieties of material and moving among more geographic locations, than ever before. ... this is a moment - a rather extended one at that - in which art has come to be characterized by heterogeneity, dispersal, and contradiction, rather than unity or orthodoxy. -- Adam Weinberg,
Weinberg is claiming that art today is pluralistic. It is a big muddy pool with no common denominators or clear divisions. Naturally, this is a good thing as far as curators are concerned, since it gives them more work to do to interpret and assign meanings to art.
But is this true? It strikes me that big rifts remain in the art. I want to discuss two in particular.
One large divide is between relational and non-relational art. What is "relational art"? This question has been most famously addressed by Nicolas Bourriaud in his book Relational Aesthetics. Bourriaud says relational art comprises "a set of artistic practices which take as their theoretical and practical point of departure the whole of human relations and their social context, rather than an independent and private space." In other words, relational art is art that focuses not on the art object but on the kinds of social engagements that occur around art.
Anyone who doubts whether there is such a thing as relational art, or wonders whether there is a divide between relational and non-relational art, need look no further than the Whitney Biennial 2008 itself. The vast majority of works presented by the Whitney in the Armory portion of the show are best characterized as relational art. Audience participation, interaction, and social happenings are high on the agenda. By contrast, the works shown in the main Whitney building are of the strictly "look, don't touch, don't talk" variety. The Whitney curators demonstrate that these two categories of art exist, and that they require different conditions, even separate buildings.
A second large rift is between "political art" and "non-political art". Some artists believe art should align itself with clear social or political agendas. Art, in this scenario, is seen as a progressive political tool, one that can help achieve political ends. On the other end of the scale, some artists reject any straightforward political agenda for their art, claiming that art and politics are separate. At stake are the definitions of both art and politics. These two antagonistic positions are in a delicate dance with each other (see here for more).
Of course, conceptions of relational art and political art overlap. Relational art, with its social investment, is often transparently "political art". However, in human terms, binary oppositions rarely ever operate as such. It is here that Adam Weinberg is correct: There are large zones of confusion.
I'd be happy to hear opinions about other large rifts in the art world.
Recently I've been looking for books that contain writing by artists. That was how I came by Letters to a Young Artist, a small pocket sized book that is ideal reading during those short breaks in a day - a bus ride, a lunch... It contains two dozen letters by artists such as John Baldessari and Adrian Piper. Many offer words of wisdom and encouragement. If you are an emerging artist feeling a moment of doubt about the art world, this is a great pick-me-up. Highly recommended.
I would really love to find a book that contains text by artists before they become established - I'm interested in what strategies work well when it comes to filling in application forms with their inevitable "write 200 words on your art." A collection of early statements from emerging artists that later did well would be really valuable. For instance, my friend Jen recently told me that she has had success with art applications which she wrote quickly, the day the application was due. Is spontaneity or informal writing a better strategy than a more formal essay? Any opinions?
Fountain, Marchel Duchamp, Image from Wikipedia.
A few months back, I went to a talk by Jacques Rancière and W.T.J. Mitchell titled The Future of the Image. One audience member asked both presenters the difference between an object and an image. Mitchell gave a quick response - saying essentially that an object is something you hold, an image is something you see. Rancière's response was more nuanced. He said, and I'm paraphrasing, that an object is something of a certain size, whose use-value or function is recognized and understood, like a razor or a bowl. As soon as that use value is called into question, or becomes unstable or indeterminate, the object becomes an image. It is precisely through a displacement into indeterminacy that an image is created.
I immediately thought about Duchamp's Fountain.
Many interpretations of Duchamp's toilet stress the Dadaist conceptions of author and artist. "Since Duchamp, the artist is the author of a definition", says Broodthaers. Bourriaud writes "when Duchamp exhibits a manufactured object as a work of the mind, he shifts the problematic of the 'creative process', emphasizing the artist's gaze bought to bear on an object instead of manual skill." The focus here is on the change in the role of the artist.
If instead we follow Rancière's idea of image, the importance of Fountain is the way it clarifies the fundamental relationship between object an image. Duchamp took an object with a known use and positioned it within an art context, establishing a question around its use value - destablizing its meaning and thereby creating an image. With this reading, you could say the artist is not so much "defining" art, declaring "This Is Art", but rather dissembling - creating questions and uncertainty by displacing objects into images. Fountain not only changed the role of the artist, it also shifted the conversation to focus on the subjectivity of representation.
I just turned my portfolio into an 80 page book using Blurb, a print-on-demand publisher.
All told, I think Blurb is a great option for artists who want to make a portfolio. The reaction to a book is always thrilling. "Oh, you have a book..." And with P.O.D it's easy to add new work and then print again.
It took about ten days to assemble all the high-res images and layout the pages. A lot of this time was spent struggling with BookSmart, Blurb's page design software - it crashed regularly, was very slow, and generally was annoying as hell to use.
I went for the largest book size - 13 x 11". At around $70, it comes in at under a dollar a page, which makes it cheaper and more convenient than an inkjet portfolio (around $2 to $4 a print). The book arrived promptly and I was pleased with the results. The image quality was great. There are minor color variations between printings, which irritates me a bit, but I've decided that it irritates me less than spending two days feeding my Epson!
One downside with Blurb is that their paper stock is very susceptible to dings - those little marks and creases that appear where people turn the pages. Art books typically use a heavier paper stock which doesn't kink as easily. Unfortunately Blurb doesn't offer a more durable paper option. I just ordered an extra copy printed for when the first book gets scruffy.
At $70+, the book is an affordable portfolio, but too expensive to just send out as publicity material. For a larger run, I'd need to remaster the design in e.g. InDesign and then find a press in Asia or China that prints at under $15 a copy. Which is a hassle. It would be great if Blurb offered a way to steamline this by partnering with a traditional press, but I don't think this is a priority for them - their main focus is wedding and family albums.
Arts organizations are struggling to stay in NYC. Many arts organizations and artists speak of a "crisis in the arts", with artists leaving New York to move to more affordable cities. I know of artists who have moved to Berlin and to Philadelphia because they can no longer afford NYC.
Yet, according to Borough President Scott Stringer, tourists say art and cultural institutions are the number one reason why they come to NY. Tourism generated $28 billion in revenue for NYC last year (here, page 8). In the UK, the Tate Modern is the second most visited attraction in the country. Like sports and entertainment, the arts generate huge secondary and tertiary revenue streams.
People want to visit cities that have a vital and diverse cultural scene. New York was once such a city. But with the brain-drain of artists leaving the city, it looks more and more likely that New York (and especially Manhattan) will become a place where art is seen, but not made.
Meanwhile, New York City gave 9.6 million dollars of public ICIP subsidies to chain retail stores like The Gap, and $350,000 to fast food restaurants like McDonalds. Not one tourist came to New York because of McDonalds or The Gap. Yet we subsidize these large corporations to the tune of millions of dollars. At the same time, the US consistently sits at the bottom of the charts in terms of public funding of the arts.
I believe the case for government support of the arts here has never been stronger. We must invest in the arts if we want to keep NY as a cultural capital.
However, such funding must also reach the broadest range of art forms. All too often, any government of the arts is linked to a social agenda. Arts are expected to be able to show a direct impact. This kind of approach to arts funding is fundamentally wrong. It is flawed reasoning to argue that the arts must show some kind of direct economic, educational or social benefits. Secondary and tertiary revenue streams already justify investment in the arts.
I believe we need to increase government funding of the arts in New York. In addition, arts funding organizations should drop social agendas, and instead rely on peer review by a diverse group of art experts to identify what arts should be funded.
Today I had a one-on-one meeting with Nina Katchadourian, the curator for The Drawing Center's Viewing Program. One of the features of being a member of the viewing program is that artists are invited to have one-on-one meetings with the curator once a year.
One of the first things Nina said is that she is a practicing artist, and that immediately changed the tone of the conversation. It eliminated any sense I had of hierarchy between us, and instead we talked artist-to-artist.
We talked about awkwardness, how to let awkwardness be on the surface in digital works, which tend to be so polished. We also talked about the works I made where my thinking is apparent, the "thinking on my feet" aspect of art making, and how this draws out both anxiety and creativity at the same time. The way these two qualities interact seems important in my work.
The meeting left me feeling energized and focused. I'm looking forward to the followup meeting next year.
I have moved into a month-to-month studio in the Elizabeth Foundation building on 39th Street. Its about 400 square feet, has a great big window, and large clean walls.
I just finished three months working full time to generate income. Now I will spend the next three months in the studio making art. I find this is better than splitting the week in two, having work days and art days. This way, when I am in the studio I can really focus on that.
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