It’s been a lazy, kind of busy holiday… But I’m back and better than ever. Fired up to finally pop out this thesis and the accompanying arts. An update on that another time. Today I just quickly want to share with you all the press release for the Live Amateurs exhibition I’m participating in, which opens this Saturday! Feel free to share it around. 🙂 See ya kids soon.
While I may or may not have been avoiding blogging here recently, I have been up to many other things, including (what I hope to be) a really rocking collaboration with my friend Craig (you can find him over at Craig Ryan Studio). I’ve been sworn to secrecy on exactly what we’re doing because he’s terrified it will turn out terribly (maybe that anxiety is why we get along so well? lol) so I can’t go into specifics, but I’m going to share some generalities and pictures with you.
It’s really been a trip to work on this installation/performance with Craig because in a lot of ways we are total opposites. He’s a bit of a sociopath (I mean that in the nicest way possible), and likes to pretend he’s mean and too good for everyone, but really, if you take the time to get to know him, he’s an amazing person. I, on the other hand, and too damn nice for my own good and secretly hate most people. When it comes to our practices and the work we make, we are like day and night though. Craig is completely materials focused and has astounding technical fabrication skills. He wants to make beautiful things that people want to touch. Clearly worlds away from my own conceptual, relational approach, but in reality these two approaches met and made beautiful art babies. His technical/materials focus has augmented and supported my conceptual intents, and my insistence on having a theme have focused his sometimes erratic material investigations. It worked somehow. I’ve learned a lot about the way that I think and the ways that I share my ideas, simply through the contrast between our approaches and communication styles. It’s been fun and exciting and I think we managed to transcend our differing approaches to find a wonderful balance in what we hope to present on Friday. We’re both excited about what we’ve got planned. And that never happens.
While Craig and I each have drastically differing takes on what this piece will be or mean in the end, for me, this collaboration grew out of some things I had been contemplating a researching this summer, including ideas about the relationship between performance art and it’s photographic documentation, and the trustworthiness of photography in general. It was also driven in part by my desire to move into more relational works. I think that I’ve hit that intent on the head with what we have planned. But I also think that it’s starting to address some other really interesting issues, like mediation of experience, trust, balance, self-preservation, control and a certain amount of playfulness. I’d really like to look back at this and be able to say “Yep. That’s where my thesis work really started.” It’s going to be epic.
Alright. In several places on this blog, I’ve mentioned in passing about my shoes. My stupid shoes. The flipping Converse that I’ve been wearing incessantly since mid-January. I hate them.
Basically these Converse are a durational (Thesis vocab, what?!) piece I started back in January. When I began the project, I had this idea that it was going to be something about being worn down by anxieties and the fear of failure, but the fact that the shoes would be damaged by my wearing of them was not a failure, but rather a success on the part of the shoes in protecting my feet and doing their job. A work about letting oneself get caught up in small trivialities that eventually exhaust you. My intent was to wear them all day, every day (no smart asses, not to bed, and not in the shower… And yes I really did have cohorts ask me that), any time any one might normally wear shoes. I planned to wear them until it was unsafe for me to do so any longer (ie the bottoms completely wore through and I couldn’t wear them while riding my scooter without shredding off the soles of my feet). I planned to photograph them every week, once a week, more as documentation than anything else, and that was as far as my planning ever got. I figured that I would decide on display and what not later on down the line.
So I started the project. Mind you this is out of the ordinary for me to start something without having everything planned out or answered (at least for the time being) a head of time. But I was trying to just “go with it” as they say. Well, whew, what a hot mess that was. I got distracted by the photography aspect, starting thinking that it was a photography project, got a lot of silence and strange looks when I talked about the project in studio visits and reviews. I got very lost along the way.
In any event I’ve been photographing them every week since I first put them on in January. I only missed one week, when I was out of town in Chicago. I’ve watched them deteriorate. I’ve noticed small changes from week to week that one would not normally see in their shoes. I saw the first bit of rubber fall off the heel of my shoe, watched the backs break and the supporting plastic erode away. I’ve been watching the laces slowly unravel and stain, the tread wear away… I’ve been hiking in them, wore them to the beach, went camping in them. I wear them on my scooter, doing yard work, going dancing with my friends. I wear them with completely unlikely outfit combinations (like my black lace cocktail dress)… I’ve witnessed drastic alterations that happened quite literally overnight, like the pink spray paint incident. I have 60 gigabytes of images. SIXTY GIGABYTES. I am hyper-aware of my shoes. And maybe it’s because of this hyper awareness I think about the aims and intents of this project daily, and I’m coming to realize that it’s something other.
I will spare you the majority of the drama that ensued around me trying to figure out that my visuals (the photo documentation) didn’t really do much for me, that my initial concept didn’t really make sense, and that I never really did resolve how to display this project in it’s original conception, and my general confusion about art and instead give you my resolution:
In a very loose, round about way, this project is still related to ideas about failure and anxiety. I see it much more as a meditation on the constancy of change and the idea that maintaining the status quo, or rather the inability to do so, is not failure, so much as the way of life. Evidence that one should not fight the inevitability of change, but accept it rather than wearing oneself ragged. Also, if I should ever exhibit this anywhere, it will be just the shoes and a brief statement about the piece. Forget the photos (blasphemy!). Forget making an installation. Forget anything but the point, which is the shoes.
The only problem is that now I’ve figured that out, I’m sort of over the whole thing. I pretty much just want to chuck the project and get on with life (and start wearing other shoes again), but this point in the project, I’m too stubborn to give it up, even though it’s driving me nuts. All this actually having to go to the studio and to photograph something. It’s like I actually make art or something. I think I need to keep going though, until my original stop point of un-safe-ness. And yes, continue photographing them. Gah. I never want to edit all of those RAW files… SIXTY GIGABYTES PEOPLE! And I’ve got more on the way. Sometimes I’m not as smart as I’d like to think…
While I’m pretty certain that this project will never be exhibited, it has been incredibly useful in allowing me to accept my conceptual-ness, and in helping me to see the connections between failure, anxiety, change, and life.
Anyway, I’ve also reflected on several other things in relation to this project. Most boringly of all, consumerism. I’ve worn the same pair of shoes for six months people, with only the notable exceptions of the gym (because my body cannot withstand exercising in support-less Converse), two days when I was in Chicago (due to snow and my extreme dislike of wet/cold feet), and a handful of days where my shoes were just too wet to wear (again, my total hatred of wet/cold feet). And for the most part, NO ONE HAS NOTICED. I’m not joking. I was expecting funny looks and comments when I started rolling up wearing my Converse EVERYWHERE with EVERYTHING, including to the beach with my swimsuit. But no one has said a thing up to this point. Interesting, in light of our consumer driven, external appearance focused culture.
And sorry for the ridiculous What’s Eating Gilbert Grape allusion, but I kind of love that movie (Johnny Depp before he got weird and Leonardo DiCaprio before he got hot!) and I do frequently refer to my shoes (any of them) as “shoedas”.
More years ago than I really care to admit (or at least it seems that way), a professor asked the students of a photography course in which I was enrolled, whether we defined ourselves as photographers or as artists. I have no recollection of what context this discussion was happening in, nor what anyone else around me said about the matter, but I do remember shooting my hand up in the air instantly, declaring that I was a photographer. Of course. Duh. When my prof asked me why that was I also recall being a little confused and somewhat defensive as to why I was being questioned on this point. I said something along the lines of: Well, I am a photographer because I take pictures, and use a camera, and it is easier to explain myself as such to other people because they always assume I mean painter or sculptor when I say artist, and I take pictures damn it. Such a rock star answer from my brilliant 20 year-old self. For whatever reason this moment has stuck with me for a long time, and I’ve thought about it frequently in recent years. In fact, I’m pretty sure that at least one draft of my letter of intent for grad school applications involved this story.
For all intents and purposes, I am still defined as a photographer by some people… Like my family. Try all I want, I cannot seem to make them understand what I do. And since I frequently teach photography, my students assume I am a photographer. But thats sort of par for the course I think… I also just sort of love photography in a totally nerdy way, and so people just sort of assume… My point here, if I really have one, is that I think I’ve fallen on the other side of my own argument, despite what others think, and despite my love of photo. I am not a photographer, and in fact, despite my ridiculous, undying love of the photographic process, I’m beginning to believe I never was, at least not in any traditional sense of the word/occupation. Which sounds super weird coming out of my mouth, but if you think about it in the context of the photographer versus artist question, and a few other things, it makes absolute sense.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned on this blog a time or two about how much I. F*#$*@%. LOVE. PHOTOGRAPHY. And that I have a deep, nonsensical adoration for being in the darkroom. This is all completely, 100% true. But that love has also, in some ways, been my undoing since I graduated with my BFA. While all of my work has been conceptual in some sense, my training has always been to turn my concepts into a tangible object. It has also instilled the rather rigid view in my mind that in order for one to be productive, one needs to be constantly, physically making things. Obviously my realization a few months back that I just didn’t want to make objects any more completely contradicted everything a good deal of my notions on art making. Talk about cognitive dissonance.
The really funny thing here though, is that looking back, I never really cared all that much about the physical photographs themselves. I rarely printed more than 1 copy of any image, and frequently found ways to get around matting or mounting them (because to quote a professor, my mats were always “caddywhompus”). I will take my cameras just about anywhere and do just about anything with it, meaning they get the crap beat out of them. My negatives… well let’s just say they’re not really kept in archival or secure conditions. But I persevered in my quest to be a photographer-artist person. My work became photographically based installations and objects. I tortured myself finding ways to turn experiences and ideas into a traditional art object. I struggled in stupid ways because I refused to step away from photography. I had allowed it to define my practice and myself.
It wasn’t until I got to grad school that it even occurred to me that my practice could be entirely conceptual, and that I needn’t rely on photography. But I kept fighting that, trying to turn ideas in to something tangible, trying to make emotions and experiences concrete. Attempting to find excuses to make photographs. I’ve also felt a great deal of pressure (whether real or imagined) from various sides to be less conceptual and perhaps more intuitive. Most of my peers here are very materials based and object focused, offering critiques and ideas which lean in that direction, because that is how they think and what they relate to. Even faculty has been trying to prod me into making things. That’s what all of those material experiments and photographs were all about. But I feel more and more disinterested in all of that… Because even if I’m taking my old negatives and damaging/altering/manipulating them, they are ultimately still a thing and will be displayed as such. Yuck I say. Yuck.
There’s also this entire guilt aspect to wanting to make objects… I mean, as I said before, that’s the way I was trained (for lack of a better word). So not only do I feel badly for ignoring what I was taught by some amazing people, I feel super criminal about not using my studio, if that makes sense. I mean, I’m not building things, or painting something, or what not… I spend more time thinking, reading, and experiencing things than I do actually making. Its probably like an 80/20 split. Thinking versus making. I keep thinking to myself: Shouldn’t I be making better use of the facilities? I don’t know about any other programs, but its kind of like a mini contest among grad students around here as to who spent how much time in the studio doing what. It’s like this silly reverse peer pressure thing where I feel like since other people are spending hours upon hours locked into their studios, I should too. Even if there is no reason for me to be in there. And on top of that, there is some serious guilt tripping thing that goes on when the faculty talk about how amazing our new studio facilities are and how we should be making better use of the space…. Ah. It’s like a really great recipe for an anxiety attack. And we all know how good I am at doing that.
In any event, I think a huge part of my graduate school journey thus far, has been coming to terms with the fact that I am, in actuality, a conceptual artist. Not a photographer. Not a photo-based artist, but a flipping conceptual artist. Acknowledging that the object holds little importance to me other than as a record of the experience… And it has been an insane struggle. Especially in this last semester. I don’t know why I keep fighting myself on this. I don’t know why I can’t just ignore faculty and cohorts who try to aid and abet me in my self defeat. But in the last few weeks I’ve become much more comfortable with this idea… Ideas. I want ideas and experiences to be my art work. I don’t want to make things anymore. And if I do make things, they will be in support of a performance, or an installation, most likely completely ephemeral and not meant to be turned into an “art object.”
So while I will most likely always love photography like the big nerd I am, even though I will probably never again be a “photographer”:
I AM A CONCEPTUAL ARTIST, AND IT’S TOTALLY OK TO NOT “MAKE” THINGS.
Another thing that has kept me from posting recently was a visiting artist event in which I was involved. Although this one I didn’t know I was participating in until nearly the last minute…
FSU brought in Stuart Horodner as part of our visiting artist lecture series. He’s the boss man in charge at Atlanta Contemporary Art Center, and just recently published The Art Life: On Creativity and Career (Which was a really good book by the way), and one of the faculty arranged for public critiques to happen. Four grads were selected to have their work reviewed by Stuart, but we didn’t get told about it until a week before it was supposed to happen…
As I’m sure you can imagine, that was a little stressful. I was less worried about the actual critique then I was about figuring out how to install my work in the gallery. It was chaos for a little while… I had to go buy TVs and export videos several times, battle difficult projectors, paint things, oh and I had to read the book… But it turned out just peachy keen in the end. I showed an updated version of my Bending the Break/Breaking to Bend video, with a new audio component, and Fairy Tale Logic. Bending the Break/Breaking to Bend was pretty much installed as I had it installed at Working Method back in January, but I finally got to install Fairy Tale Logic the way I’ve always wanted to… On two monitors!
As a really awesome bonus, Craig Drennen, who is currently a studio artist at Atlanta Contemporary Art Center, an instructor at Georgia State, aaaaaand the dean at Skowhegan, came down with Stuart to participate in the critiques. While my peers may or may not agree with me, I had a really great experience. The main thing that I wanted to get out of the crit was that someone, outside the hermetically sealed environment I have here at school (yes, that may be a little bit of a dramatic way to describe it), related to or understood the things I was addressing in my work. Between all the doubt and frustration I had been experiencing lately, this was really the best thing I could hope for. And I feel like I got that, as well as just positive feed back in general. For what ever reason, I found this process much less anxiety provoking than our usual reviews… Which I told to my committee head. The way that Stuart ran the reviews was critical, but constructively so. I sometimes feel that our committee reviews are not so constructive… But again, that’s my opinion.
For some more pics and info you should click HERE!
In any event, this was one of the best experiences I’ve had so far in grad school. It came pretty close to the Guerra de la Paz collaboration last spring…but not quite as awesome! Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to show you how the battle scar I acquired during that installation looks now:
Why can’t grad school just be awesome experiences like these?!
Wow. How the time flies when you are busy having insane hair days and watching Hennessy Youngman videos….
But on a serious note, I’ve been struggling through a great deal in the studio lately, and haven’t been able to achieve a whole lot, thus have avoided posting. My main battle currently, is that I’ve forgotten how to relax and play, both in the studio and in my life… This sounds absolutely ridiculous, but it’s completely true. I’ve been taking everything so painfully serious that I was essentially paralyzing myself and my work. I couldn’t even watch a movie or cook with out feeling guilty that I wasn’t making art. I feel kind of dumb that at nearly 30 years old, I have to reteach myself how to play, and that I have to learn how to have fun. What has happened to me!?! I sincerely hope that this is not a mid-life crisis because I am clearly not old enough for that…
In discussing this with faculty, the nearly unanimous advice was to attempt to work more intuitively, or at least a little less conceptually. This is a challenge I have embraced, but it’s freaking hard. Like really, super, PAINFULLY hard (at least for me). I’m sure if you’ve read this blog more than once, you’ll have picked up that I have some anxiety and control issues. My anxiety often comes out in situations where I feel out of control or sense that I am losing control, so to embark on any endeavor in which I do not have a plan mapped out is absolutely terrifying to me. My process, simply, is this: I have an idea, I plan it out to exactitudes in my mind, and I execute it. A to B to C to… You get the point. So I’ve been fighting that in the past few weeks, trying to accept that sometimes playing is OK, and that I don’t always need to have an explanation right away. Along with that, understanding that my practice cannot always be actively making things… That reading, watching movies, writing, and thinking are all part of the process, and I need to do those things just as much as I need to actively make things.
So, in answer to the call for action I’ve been given by faculty, I’ve started playing around with a bunch of stuff, and I have no idea where ANY of it is going… But here are some pictures!
This first bunch of images comes out of my trip north to Chicago for SPE. While the conference was OK, the best part for me was going to the museums and galleries to look. This series came out of a bunch of photos I took at the Art Institute, which I intended to act as visual notes for myself to share with my students and to possibly incorporate into future lectures. But… Once I uploaded them to my laptop, I was kind of frustrated by the fact that my reflection or shadow was in many of them. I was irritated because I wouldn’t be able to use them as slides in a lecture… But then, there was also something about them that, creatively, I was intrigued by. Many of these photographs or objects that I was documenting were part of my art historical and photographic education, and I was fascinated by the fact that, as they had become part of me, I had become part of them, but I had also, in a way appropriated them for my own use. It was also weirdly fitting that these “happened” while I was in Chicago, because I spent a good deal of time thinking about how I felt completely out of place at the SPE conference, and feeling a bit like a fraud. Anyway, I’m trying to continue playing with this idea, and have created the following images…
Again, playing with historical sources. I don’t know where these will go, but that’s OK. I just have to keep telling myself that. It’s OK if I don’t have the answer right away…
I’ve also delved into some material experiments…
I’m really quite skeptical about these in particular. As with most things, I find myself asking “why” I would or should do this… But people tell me that the reason will come and I should just see it through. So we’ll see if they go anywhere. I think the main thing for me is that I have these little things on the side to play with in the studio in between working on other projects. I figure that I can work on them until I start to over think them, or get frustrated, or start to ask “why”, and then put them away for a little while, until I forget that I was frustrated, and the work on them again. Slowly… Slowly I will make progress away from my obsessive compulsive control issues…
You’ll notice that all of this experimenting is centered around photography. For better or for worse I thought that if I was going to do something that I had no plan for, I might as well use things that I was familiar with on some level. The husband doesn’t necessarily agree with this logic. He sees it as me reverting to photography when I could be doing other things, but I think it’s good for me to have at least some variable to which I am accustomed. As for other people, well, the feed back is mixed. We’ll see how it plays out in my reviews two weeks from now.
So, what else is up at the old studio? Hmmm…
How could you? I mean, it’s the banner for this blog… In any event, it’s turned into this:
It’s become this insane visual representation of my thoughts and plans. I’m kind of considering making it a piece in and of itself… Mainly it’s been incredibly helpful as a way to remove myself from my thoughts, and see connections between the ways I’m thinking about the things I’m working on that I may not have put together otherwise. Its nice because as I’m working in the studio, regardless of what I’m focused on, if I have a thought, I can jot it down on a post-it and slap it up on the wall, then continue with what I was doing before. I can then go back later and consider these pieces at my leisure. I’m thinking that images may find their way in there soon. I love this because it’s so completely nerdy and me… Also I get a strange enjoyment out of using office supplies.
Finally, while it’s been awhile since I’ve done a performance, I’m planning on doing one next week at the 621 Gallery Art for Dinner benefit. I still have NO idea exactly what I’ll be doing, but I want to somehow play on the audiences expectations of what will happen, either by priming them with specific information (like a very leading title) or setting them up somehow to encourage very specific expectations of what my performance will be, and then having the performance somehow go against those expectations. My hope is that this will then put the audience in the awkward or uncomfortable position of having to confront disappointment or even anger that in a way they themselves created. I have no clue how to do this, but I know that it must be done. Suggestions? I could really do with some, because this is how I feel about it right now:
Words are failing me lately. So I haven’t been posting. I’ve slowly been working on this one for about a week.
I’m still struggling with exactly what I mean when I say I don’t want to make things. And I’m still a little unclear on the specifics of some of the pieces I’m working on. I know I should just sit down and write until my hand falls off just to get it out of my head and onto paper, but honestly I just haven’t had the time. I rarely get more than an hour to work on any one thing at a time right now. This semester is just hectic in the sense that I’m bouncing back and forth between VAST and campus a lot, I either teach or have class every day Monday through Friday, and I have a lot of home work and prep work to do in general. The weekends are my only uninterrupted studio time, but those are also the only days I get to see the husband because we are running on completely opposite schedules this semester. Yuck. I’m hoping though now that the first set of reviews are nearly over, and I’ve settled into the rhythm of this semester things will calm down and I will find some uninterrupted time to sit down and write out the art thoughtz. It’s about time for me to start the thesis anyway…
As always, I have several things in the works, and I’m considering adding a few more. I had a studio visit for one of my classes last night and my professor suggested that I do some more quick, sketchbook type things using the video camera, just so that I don’t focus so much on some of the other things I’m working on, but frustrated with. I think that’s probably a pretty good idea right now because I’m finding myself just repeating the same thing over and over like the outcome is going to drastically change…
So I have two video pieces I’m working on. They might become one, who knows. One is an extension of the Bleed videos I was working on in the fall. For me its about destroying something and that destruction creating something beautiful. I’ve had a pretty fitful start with this so far. First I was shooting tests with my iPhone, then I had to build a table to shoot with, then once I started shooting again, I had to stop and troubleshoot the water that was leaking on my camera, I’m trying to master (or at the very least be adequate at) shooting video with a DSLR… It’s like this crazy new ball game to me… and so I’ve been having problems with focusing and depth of field, and then of course just to make it a little harder on myself, I’m learning a new video editing program, Adobe Premier (not that I really knew Final Cut that well…). Oh and I’m shooting something that can’t be reshot. Sometimes I can hear my mind laughing hysterically at me, saying: “Figure your way out of this one!” I’m thinking that once I do win this battle, the video will become one component of a large installation, but we’ll see.
The second video I’m working on revolves around the idea of communication and self-defeat. I’m really not certain where it’s going or what form it will take in the end, but the idea popped into my head last week and I ran with it. And that’s that…
I have a couple of performances planned revolving around the idea of saying no and setting oneself up for failure. I’m kind of keeping the details of those under wraps until I actually do them because I don’t really want people to know I’m doing a performance until after the fact. I’m concerned that if they do know, they are going to react or behave differently, and I want genuine participation, which means I may not be able to document them… I also am still really unsure of how I’m going to actually do these performances.
Speaking of documenting performances, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on that subject since the fall. I really go back and forth on it for various reason. I have a blog post I wrote for one of my classes all about it… I’ll post it on here for your edification. But basically I don’t know how I feel about documenting my performances anymore. In fact I kind of don’t like the idea, because no documentation can ever fully express the experience of that performance/happening/action/installation/event…
I don’t know. My brain is working overtime. Both on ideas and school work. Again it gets back to the idea that I need some uninterrupted time to sit down and write/think/enjoy silence. But right now I need to go update my artist statement, and maybe eat something. Why don’t you look at these pictures while I do that?
Sorry I’ve been MIA for so long now… I’m not joking when I say I barely had time to sleep the last few weeks.
So where did I leave off? Ah yes. The performance I am temporarily titling “…expectations lie…”. You can view a 10 minute video clip of the performance here. The over all performance was about 45 minutes, and I’ve edited the video to reflect that time lapse a little bit. I’m not totally happy with the documentation, but that’s OK. I plan on recreating this as a video piece in it’s own right.
Anyway, as I discussed before it was my intent for this piece to center around the idea of expectations versus reality and some what self destructive behaviors. Now that I think back about it, the reason the 500 Days of Summer sequence was sticking in my mind was because it was an example of an internal or mental set up of expectations. Many of my pieces thus far have focused on externalphysical actions, that didn’t necessarily portray the psychological aspect of what I was attempting to address. And subconsciously I must have realized this because as I brainstormed, I began trying to find ways to impede or damage myself mentally. Well, I came up with the idea to attempt to recite something, flawlessly of course, and for each mistake that I made, I would be forced to take a shot (of vodka). For me, it was the perfect representation of frustration in action. Trying to do something, over and over again, but failing each time, and chastising yourself each time, makes it harder and harder to live up to you own expectations. So I ran with it…even though it seemed like a really bad idea for my liver. But then again, I didn’t really expect to drink as much as I wound up drinking…
I won’t bore you with the exact details, but it took me almost a week to come up with something appropriate for the recitation…I finally settled on an excerpt from a book entitled Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland.
It’s the tiny bit at the bottom of page 34 through to the second full paragraph on page 35. To be completely honest, I’m still not 100% happy with what I chose, as it’s a bit too theoretical and screams “Art!” I am still looking for something more subtle and applicable to all types of expectations, not just the ones that relate to art making. But it served it’s purpose well.
I also developed this idea about having an on going internal monologue calling out my mistakes and generally telling me how worthless I am. It worked pretty well… You can see/hear the results for yourself on the video. Here’s a few stills if your too lazy to watch or you’re like me and your internet is too slow.
Over all, I’m really pleased with the way the performance turned out. My anxiety level was pretty high as I planned this, and it reached extreme levels as I started the performance (You can totally tell at the beginning of the video…It’s pretty funny actually).
The fantastic thing for me however, was that a few days before the performance occurred, and I was lucky enough to have a studio visit with an amazing artist named Monica Cook. In much of her work she has this play between chaos and control going on, so I was looking forward to talking with her about that. My visit with her was completely beyond my wildest dreams! She was really supportive of the ideas I was using, and liked the performance I had planned. Her encouragement really helped me get over some of that anxiety and just do the darn thing. It was fan-tastic. I wish I would have remembered to record it… I totally forgot to turn on the audio record app thingy on my phone. 😦
I also had this really great conversation with her about serendipity and deja vu. Just the day prior, all my notebooks that I keep my research, brainstorming, and notes for teaching in got soaking wet somehow and the pens I use are most decidedly not water safe…
I really kind of freaked out. To say that I was distraught would be an understatement, and I had actually gotten so upset I threw away my notebooks. I didn’t even know what to do. But then as the night progressed and I thought about it, there was something to these notebooks. Even Eric thought I should do something with them. So I went the next morning and rescued the notebooks from the trash can in the photo lab. I showed them to Monica during my studio visit and she agreed that I needed to use them to create. We discussed how water keeps popping up in my work, and this so called destruction was actually serendipity pointing me on my way. We both look at serendipity and deja vu the same way… that it means you are on the right track and things are good. Its funny to me though, that water is somehow finding it’s way into my work. It may sound odd, but I’ve always felt a very definite connection to water, even as a child. I loved hearing it rain, and being on beaches, things like that. To go all astrological on you, I’m sure it’s somehow related to the fact that I am a Sagittarius, which is a fire sign.
In any event, I’ve been playing around with these pages for a few weeks now. But I’m still not sure what they will become. I’ve shot some photos, and I’m also working on a related video. Both are still in an awkward, undefined stage, but I’ll share the photos, as the video is completely incoherent right now.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with these, as just photographing these objects seems too easy… I also think I just like the original object more. But that might be my own biases.
I’ll talk more about this later maybe, but the other happening that kept me from writing, was that James Elkins came as a visiting scholar to FSU. I was on the planning committee for that and so spent a day driving him around, which was pretty cool. I also got a studio visit with him, which again was a great experience. I DID remember to record that one. 🙂
One of the things Elkins said to me about my work was that I needed to find more of a grey area… Where the topics of success and failure are not so clearly defined. I think this is really great feedback, but I’m not sure how to do this. He also got me thinking about how I define perfection, or the opposite of failure. Elkins pointed out that to understand the failure, I should try to understand what perfection is. I don’t have an answer for that right now, but it’s something that is rolling around in my head currently.
So… Busy times here in the studio. Lots of studio visits, lots of thinking, and lots of experimenting with stuff… Right now, I’m waiting for my committee to come in and do reviews once again. Although, apparently only one of my committee members is going to be present. And I even showered, put on nice clothes AND make-up. Yeesh. Its OK, I get to do it again in a month. Wish me luck!
Art & Fear belongs to the aforementioned authors. All of the photos in this post are mine, but the images from my performance were taken by Samantha Burns.
I’ve been meaning to sit down and write a post, but many things have taken place in the last few weeks that have gotten in my way. Like WordPress crashing and my half written blog post disappearing into the digital ether… But the bottom line is that I still don’t have a blog post ready for you, and unfortunately I don’t have the time to write a good one… So in the mean time I present to you a pictoral version of my last two weeks. Feel free to write your own captions or stories to go along. It might be funnier/more interesting this way!
I swear I’ll get a real post out about what’s going on in the studio pictures as well as my most recent performance… It just won’t happen til the beginning of next week. There is SO much going on right now!
Most of the images are mine, or are borrowed from the web. Paintings from Monica Cook, performance stills from Ellen Mueller (except the ones of me…those are mine, fair and square). Books from respective authors/publishing companies. Fountain logo property of Fountain Art Fair, Working Method Contemporary logo property of Working Method Contemporary Gallery. Did I miss anything? I hope not. If I did I’m sorry, and IT DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, IT BELONGS TO YOU.
Since I spent an aggregate two weeks on this show (not including the actual time it took to create the work), I’d thought I’d share with you all the fruits of my labor. I meant to post this a couple of weeks ago, but I wanted to upload the video projection component of one of my installations onto youtube first. That, sad to say, did not pan out. Apparently it’s too long. So, what I do have to offer you is A TON of pictures, and a shaky cell phone video of the installation itself…
I am actually incredibly pleased with the way this show pulled together and the response I got from the audience. I really can’t believe how well it turned out. It was, by far, the smoothest installation and opening I have ever had. Everything went as planned, no sudden, dramatic obstacles reared their ugly heads, I never once freaked out. That is a MAJOR accomplishment for this control freak.
So how about some pictures before I blather on more? OK!
So, as I mentioned in a previous post, the first room at WMC was dedicated to a re-installation of Flawless…We shall hence refer to it as Flawless II. Originally, I had thought that I would need two pieces to properly fill the space in that front gallery, but after I started installing and saw how Flawless II was taking shape, I quickly revised that decision. I’m glad that I did, because the room would have been way to cramped and the pieces would not have had any breathing space. I think the resultant installation came out beautifully. Much more like the crashing wave I originally envisioned. I installed it sans video component this time, and I loved it all the more for that. But I think I might still add a different video…I had the suggestion of actual waves. What do you all think about that? We’ll see what happens… For the meantime I’m putting this piece to sleep. Maybe I’ll recycle the prints into something else…
The back room at Working Method housed a video installation which I suppose I am calling Overflow. The video component was an approximately 20 minute loop of a kitchen sink filling with water and, get this, overflowing! The video was projected onto a plastic sheet with water running down it at various times. The water collected in puddles and pools on the floor (at one point even leaking under the wall into another gallery space…whoops) which viewers had to walk through. The resultant foot prints actually wound up making a fantastic trail through the front gallery space. Additionally, some of the water seeped under the plastic sheeting and through the bottom of the wall between the front and back galleries, making some excellent effects on the Flawless II installation. The final bit of the Overflow installation was that there were cans hanging from a frame on the ceiling, dripping water down onto the viewer periodically. It made for some awesome audience reactions.
If you would like to see the video documentation, it will magically appear if you click this link.
Overall, I am incredibly proud of the way my show turned out. I really got some great feedback, and the audience really seemed to enjoy the work over all, particularly the older (say over 30) crowed. They truly appeared to make a connection to the work in the way the younger visitors to the gallery did, with a few exceptions. One of them being a freaking adorable little girl (about 6 or so) who came in with her mother. This little girl asked me some really good questions, and really seemed to understand what I was trying to get at by “making it rain” in the gallery.
So until the next time…Joseph Gordon-Levitt and make some art! 😉
Analysis paralysis, grass is greener syndrome, longing for the road not traveled: How the success of the women’s movement has left us stumped in the face of limitless options -- and how to get over it.