[^^fleeding HOME page] [Back to ART main page] [Back to UTD Fall-2006 page] Ostensibly this page are notes inspired by reading: "The Critique Handbook" by Kendall Buster and Paula Crawford, ISBN 0.13.150544.0, LCCN N'345.B87'2007, (Pearson Prentice Hall, 2006, Upper Saddle River, New Jersey, Terra). There are two major over-arching contexts which i wish to explore: 1. Collage and Physical Installations. 2. Drawings. Under each of these cannopies, i wish to discuss the following sub-topics: How do we approach that art-form? The Power of Presence and Context Other formal elements; eg, scale, texture, etc.
How do we approach collage?
Formally, this is *the* question collage: Creating, Viewing, Extending the work. In terms of "extending", we have the basic problems of I/A'g (Inter/Acting) with a work that is clearly (or not) derived from other, existing works. Thus, the elements are objects that are placed into a framework conating other elements that may have little to do with each other. In one sense, this is no different than all other forms of art. It is important to set down the basic scale of "reality" against which art is likely to be judged. The immedia concept -- as close to reality as possible. Can *not* see the hand of the artist. Ideally, this *is* reality. Or at least as real as possible. It is clear what IS the art, and what is not the art; eg, the picture on the wall, and the wall. the hypermedia concept -- transcending reality. Showing the hand of the artist, what is the art and what is the non-art is blurred. [Note 1] Thus, the elements of collage might be of the immedia type. Where-in the artist has essentially "painted" with images and used all of the usual illusory "tricks" to make the images blend together seamlessly. For example, if a cut-out fire truck is pasted into a blue ocean scene, the painter's trick of having the two colors (warm and cool) "play off of each other" could be used, to give the illusion that (however) a fire engine is travelling accross a body of water. At the other extreme is (my own style) the use of scotch tape to clearly show what image has been pasted over the other. From an "immedia" POV (Point-of-View), the two pictures do not "have a dialog" they are simply juxtaposed. However, in my own work (as a symbolist and a textualist), by placing the two items next to each other i imply that at all times there is at least *some* dialog between them. That this necessitates "breaking the 4th wall" and bringing the artist's actual intent into the conversation concerning the work is of no concern to me; well, at least not much. This "4th wall" concept is borrowed from theatre. In many cases in modern theatre/danse/performance/etc, there is a much more direct I/A between performers and audience. As such, there is a bluring of where the actors and the audience begin and end. The extreme case would be things like the muder mystery and dinner presentations, as well as the performance works where the audience is "hemmed in"; eg, Jim Dine's "Crash Dummy" performance where the audience was admitted to a room, and then the door-way thru which they entered was sealed off by a wall. This brings us to: Context is King; tips towel to Umberto Ecco.Collage: The Power of Presence & Context
An important point here is that the place into which the art is installed automatically creates in the (potential) viewer an expectation of art to be there. For example, if we walk into a room (say the waiting area of an apt complex; eg, SouthSide at Lamar, Dallas, Terra), then we see painted walls. And there is automatically an expectation that "things hung on a wall" are *paintings* (or other art). But, imagine if there is a mop hung on the wall (or just sitting in the middle of a blank wall, either laying down, or leaning up against the wall -- what then? Now, if the viewer is aware of a certain artist's reputation for using mundane objects (readymades, etc) as part of the art, then viewer may view the mop as art, even though to the casual viewer/passer-by the mop is hardly noticed at all. Thus, regardless of some (i would say) nebulous "meaning", the art or even just the expectation of art, creates even more of a presence than the place itself. That is, by knowing that we are in a place where art is going to be, we expect to see art. And if our mind is a bit more than just prehensile, we will find the art. (This of course begs the question of non-art and anti-art, but i will leave that discussion for another time entirely). Indeed as Nick Kay points out in discussing Bernard Tschumi's ideas, [KAY, P. 42] ... While drawing on the work of artists and theorists emphasizing post-structuralist concepts of the sign and the text [Tschumi 1985:24; La Case Vide, London, Architectural Association], Tschumi has also defined his practice in relation to the work of 'early "concept performance" artists' and their emphasis upon the phenomenology of space. Thus, in "The Architectural Paradox", Tschumi positioned his work in relation to the post-minimalists installation art of Bruce Nauman, Doug Wheeler, Robert Irwin, and Michael Asher, where: By restricting visual and physical perception to the faintest of all stimulations, they turn the expected experience of the space into something all-together different. The almost totally removed sensory definition in-evitabley throws the viewers back on [P.43] themselves. In 'deprived space' [...] the materiality of the body coincides with the materiality of [elision in Kay's work] the space [and] the subject’s only 'experience their own experience'. -- (Tchumi 1994a: 41-42; as quoted by Kay) [Tschumi 1994a [1975] 'The Architectural Paradox' in Bernard Tschumi "Archtecture and Disjunction", London: MIT Press, 27-52] Ref: "Site-specific art - Performance, Place, and Documentation", by Nick Kay, LCN #####???####, ISBN 0.415.18559.9, (Routledge Press, 2000, London, Eng G.B.). But, i would maintain that this is what *any* art does. When we see the Mona Lisa we are inevitably "thrown back on ourselves". Every human event has at its core our own feelings about ourselves; eg, a funeral, a football match, etc. Falling back on our "mop on the wall" example, consider the "useless tools" art of Margaret McDowell. When we first encounter one of these tools (eg, a gardening trowel will all manner of nails and screws inserted into the handle -- thus making the tool not only useless but literally un-usable), we say "how interesting" We reflect momentarily on the object and what it means. Thus, way that the audience and the collage I/A and the space in which this I/A takes place matter equally. Thus, a physically installed piece (such as many of the works of Eva Hesse) intrude into the viewing space -- making such physical interactions (such as touching the works) almost a certainty. This violates the fundamental dictim of the museum: Don't touch the art. In fact, one of Bart Uchida's pieces, "Turf", depends completely on the viewer actively walking on the dirt and pathways installed into the space, bushing past hanging vines, as well as listening the music and other sounds of the installation. [Note 2]Collage: Other Formal Elements
How do we approach Drawing?
Drawing: The Power of Presence and Context
Drawing: Other Formal Elements
Size
Why is that we see a small drawing it "looks child-like" and yet if we see a large drawing that fills a wall (possibly with 1_000_000 marks) we judge it to be "high art"? To a certain extent this goes back to presence, but more than that it goes back to one of the most cripling of criticisms by the lay public: "Well, a child could do that". And of course, a child *might* do that. But the question really is: "Yes, but *would* a child do that?". And the answer is "possibly". In my own case, my mother looked at one art object (a Richard Diebenkorn, in the Fort Worth Modern) and said, "Your father could do that". To which i replied, "Yes, but would he?" -- the answer being "Well, ... no.". And this is the crux of the artist as artist -- and i wouldd say that it manifests itself *most* strongly in the form of drawing. In almost everyone's experience in shcool they are *forced* to draw somthing. And as such this gives them "experience" in drawing - and hence the "permission" to be a critic of not only "just" drawings, but of *all* art. There is no easy answer to this. When i sit in front of the Rothko at the Fort Worth Modern, i weep. Why? It's just a two blocks of colour, and a bit smudgy between the two areas. Indeed, as Buster and Crawford put it: Formalism has been criticized [sic], by artists and critics alike, because of its penchant for being self-referential. The dis-dainful remark, "This work is just formalist", coming from a figurativ painter, is an accusation that the work is lacking in narrative substance. As one original memeber of "The New York Ten" put it speaking about Rothko in the old days: We just thougth he was doing tasteful paintings about nothing! [Buster and Crawford, OpCit, P. 7] Thus, it *must* be my own inner knowledge of the artist and their work (either separately or together) that give me (as an artist/infomred viewer/conneseur) the appreciation of the art. And this "lifts" me out of what i would call the "barren plain of formalism". Indeed, as one cartoonist portrayed it in a work "Life without Mozart" -- a barren plane littered with odd bits of discarded junk. Thus, one of the primary "distinguishing marks" of a drawing would be it's size. That is, the size of the marks on a large page. This, again brings in the power of presences -- as with "field painting"; ie, we are literally surrounded and engulfted by the sheer size of the work. I would go so far as to say that this devolves to one of my least favorite ideas from Aristotle who admonishes us that art work must be of a "sufficent size" to be (as i read it) "good art". Anyone who has ever fallen in love with stamp collecting can attest to the beauty of the small. Thus, as an artist i *do* have to ask myself: "Is it *really* necessary to blow these marks up to such a large scale?". I would respond no. In the same way, that i do not need all of the referential items that i find esquisitely beautiful in Goya's "The Third of May 1808" to find Motherwell's "Elegy to the Spanish Republic" equally beautiful and elegant, i need not "scale up" or "scale down" my own works. But, still. As an artist, it is *always* usefull to push the boundaries; eg, if i work *only* in ink on paper, it is always usefull and informative to pick up the occasional brick of charcoal and "see what might happen". --42--Notes
[1] The concept of "What is real?" is of course much-debated in philosophical circles. In the world of art, we try (in some cases) to either erase the line between the art and "reality" or to clearly demarcate that line. This is the concept of the "separating mark" or the "distinguishing mark". Thus, in the case of some artists the picture frame and the art work (framed within it) are clearly separate intities. In other cases, the separation is deliberately blured. Here i am thinking (particularly) of: