tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29171160437423335482024-02-18T23:34:37.129-08:00joyofpaintingCourse Content for UIC School of Art and Design Fall 2008 Topics in PaintingUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-57992486909061162292008-11-30T20:49:00.001-08:002008-11-30T21:01:42.549-08:00the best meaning of bad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG1dPcyHHL-fYkYFim4WnivFg6yxt6mzPX7hLTBmVE8R25trfo_yhWf7UnPBxfRrBuDDXGWCmQ5yKB6_MP8dy1ea3npwLCwu5534-Z007-Qvh3ES_djI5o3S-_FyZD7oohCcdNegortNs/s1600-h/plan_ed4_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG1dPcyHHL-fYkYFim4WnivFg6yxt6mzPX7hLTBmVE8R25trfo_yhWf7UnPBxfRrBuDDXGWCmQ5yKB6_MP8dy1ea3npwLCwu5534-Z007-Qvh3ES_djI5o3S-_FyZD7oohCcdNegortNs/s400/plan_ed4_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274679445360751010" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">“extravagant ambition, irrational risk, pure chutzpah, a synergistic blend of vanity, vision and self-delusion” (A.O. Scott/ NYTimes) as positive virtues?</span></span> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />From the blog <span style="font-style: italic;">Living the Romantic Comedy</span>:</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://livingromcom.typepad.com/my_weblog/2005/12/the_best_meanin.html">http://livingromcom.typepad.com/my_weblog/2005/12/the_best_meanin.html</a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-71487830268373674432008-11-14T06:42:00.000-08:002008-11-14T06:45:19.865-08:00Marilyn Minter Interview from artinfo.com<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGPoXHoNjsc-MfI3uzoOQpG0gqYVqb3fV99Djp3XGmNbF-YLitDHFkSpu9XOSKNnfhuLRu4P3Wq3w1U68V6EWCqXblUNfSumDmvMqJH9DbQAq2eLXqqAi6MslCLNhMBv1cYdVpsTW3Nc/s1600-h/Pam+Anderson.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGPoXHoNjsc-MfI3uzoOQpG0gqYVqb3fV99Djp3XGmNbF-YLitDHFkSpu9XOSKNnfhuLRu4P3Wq3w1U68V6EWCqXblUNfSumDmvMqJH9DbQAq2eLXqqAi6MslCLNhMBv1cYdVpsTW3Nc/s400/Pam+Anderson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268524045408285410" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">NEW YORK—Marilyn Minter has been a part of the New York art scene since the 1970s, though her career has been anything but a smooth ride. She made a series of now-celebrated photographic studies of her drug-addicted mother while still a student in Florida, and in the early ’80s she explored Pop-derived images that often had a sexual undercurrent. Then, at the end of that decade she painted herself straight into fevered and often bitter controversy when she began using imagery taken from porn magazines. Her infamy was exacerbated in 1990 when she produced her own TV ad, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" class="Apple-style-span" >100 Food Porn</span><span style="font-family:arial;">, which ran during late-night mainstream television shows. The 1990s and the early years of this decade saw her gradually refining her style and imagery so that, while still suggesting pornography, her photographs and paintings seem equally to breathe the atmosphere of high fashion (a world that she claims to know nothing about) and glamour. Her painting technique is equally startling, employing many layers of translucent enamel paint on metal to produce an incandescent, almost hallucinatory finish. Her work came to the attention of entirely new audiences last year, when </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.creativetime.org/" target="_blank">Creative Time</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> commissioned a series of giant billboards from her that were hung in Chelsea and, a few months later, she was included in the Whitney Biennial. Now, in the summer of 2007, she’s suddenly everywhere. She is guest designer for the current issue of Francis Ford Coppola’s magazine </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.all-story.com/" target="_blank"><em>Zoetrope All-Story</em></a><span style="font-family:arial;">, and her work is featured on the cover and in the centerfold of the current issue of the art publication </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.parkettart.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="Apple-style-span">Parkett</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">, for whom she produced an editioned photograph of Pamela Anderson that immediately sold out. She shot the campaign images for Tom Ford’s new fragrance, Tom Ford for Men, which will be launched in September, and </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.grmandco.com/" target="_blank">Gregory R. Miller & Co.</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> has just published a lavish $60 monograph of her work. </span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Last week, on her birthday, she shared coffee and cake with ARTINFO in her SoHo loft, where three assistants were hard at work on a group of new paintings. We began by talking about the new book.<o:p></o:p></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> Marilyn, congratulations on this new book. It really manages to convey the physical character of your work. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a book that used such heavy, glossy paper before.</span><o:p></o:p></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Thank you. Isn’t it great? The designers are pretty brilliant. From day one they said, “We’ll use different papers. We’ll use pink, we’ll use silver. We’ve got this shiny paper, we’ve got paper that feels like it’s wet.” I can’t take any credit for anything of it. It was their idea. <o:p></o:p></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> But you must have given them some direction?</span><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p> </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> I’m a catalog collector. I showed them all the catalogs that I love, and I said to them, “Do what you always wanted to do and no one would let you,” and this is what they came up with. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> I can’t imagine that’s how you work with your painting assistants here. </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> I’m so overwhelmed with everything that’s going on right now. In the last year I’ve been constantly pulled away from painting. I’m at the computer, figuring out what we’re going to do, figuring out images, and ordering prints. If it was just me in the studio I’d be making one painting a year! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> I invented the technique, but at this point, I’m their [the assistants’] underpainter. But I am also the director. An assistant might do the painting, but I’m constantly changing what she does. Whether I’m painting on the painting or not, I have the vision of what it’s supposed to look like. I’m still the painter. I know that things are going to slow down, and I’ll be back to painting again.<o:p></o:p></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> Can you explain the difference between the photographs that you make and your paintings? </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Every photo I take is to make a painting, but sometimes a photo is so good that I don’t need to make a painting out of it. It’s like when a conventional artist makes a drawing and then makes a painting from the drawing. Sometimes the drawing’s just a perfect moment, a finished artistic project, so the painter doesn’t touch the drawing. That’s how I sometimes feel about a photograph: It’s a perfect sketch. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Plus I’m a conventional photographer. I don’t Photoshop any of my photos. They’re not cropped or anything, whereas in the paintings I use different photos for different parts of the image. I’m using five photos to make this painting of Stephanie Seymour: one photo to make that jewelry at the bottom, a different photo to make the baby’s hair, a different photo to make the pearls inside the mouth.… I combine these different photos. In photography you can’t do that. In painting you can. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Also, I think that something really happens with this painting technique that I’ve invented, with layers and layers and layers of enamel paint. You can’t get that translucency with a photo. The painting’s so rich. So it might look like the same series, but the paintings are way different from the photos. People that don’t see the difference, I think their eyes have died or something. It shocks me that some critic would go to a gallery—as someone did—and say, “Well, you can tell the paintings from the photos, because the photos have glass in front of them!" No, there’s a little more difference than that. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> I’ve never quite understood your attitude toward the glamorous images that you present in your work. Are you celebrating glamour, or criticizing it? </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Both. Because I think it’s a complex emotion when you look at glamorous pictures. I can’t say that everybody gets pleasure out of it, but I do, and a lot of people I know get a lot of pleasure out of looking at the most glamorous pictures. But you’re constantly aware that you’re never going to look that good. So there are two feelings there, not just one, and I’m just trying to mirror that, to make a picture of what that feels like. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> Does that mean you’re not taking a position at all? </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> As soon as you tell people what to think, it’s not interesting. It becomes an illustration. I constantly have to walk the tightrope of metaphor. The more layers of understanding I can add, the stronger my images will be. And it’s so easy to fall off that tightrope, so I have to be careful, because for me it’s the difference between something interesting and bullshit. If it looks to me like I’ve made any moral judgment at all, or I’m trying to tell you what to think, then I’m not interested. It’s like when you see a movie—if you don’t come out thinking, “What did the director mean? What did that mean?” then there’s something wrong. I want to do the same thing with my paintings. All you can do is ask the questions. There are no answers. People are constantly trying to give you answers, but there are exceptions to every rule. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> Let me pursue this a little further. You’ve just done the promotional shots for Tom Ford’s new perfume. Ford has used a particular sort of glamorous soft porn in promoting his designs. What do you think of him? </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Well, you know, I don’t really know what Tom Ford stands for. I don’t have that experience. I don’t know anything about fashion. I had to be told who Tom Ford was. I had to go and buy his book. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> All right, then. What about Pamela Anderson? Do you admire her?</span><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p> </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Of course I admire her. I like Pam because she’s not a victim. She doesn’t have some Svengali taking care of things. She owns the production of her own imagery. She’s not an actress or a comedian, she’s a personality who makes a fortune from the way she looks. She’s real savvy. She works with Richard Prince, and she works with Jeff Koons, and now she works with me. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> She doesn’t have education. She comes from some little town in Canada, and now she’s a multimillionaire and successful and a happy person. She’s very self-deprecating, extremely funny, very sharp. If you make money because of the way you look, the world’s gonna help you do it. They’re gonna give you money to put those shoes on. Those guys are gonna put silicone in your boobs. It’s so easy not to admire her. It’s so easy to make fun of Pamela Anderson. Actors snub her and they’re mean to her, but anyone who writes her off is stupid. She’s not Anna Nicole Smith or Marilyn Monroe.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> And is that why you wanted to photograph her? </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> The only reason I did Pam Anderson was because I wanted to put her in <span style="font-style: italic;" class="Apple-style-span">Parkett</span>. I wanted to take all her makeup off and get to the animal activist. I wanted to photograph the person who’s so empathetic toward animals that she’s a PETA person. I’m not. I might admire what they do, but I don’t do anything. I still wear leather. Pam’s a longtime vegetarian. I don’t think she’s ever had a piece of meat. Isn’t that amazing? And she’s made all these millions of dollars being a pinup, but I see her as an animal activist, basically. </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> How did the whole project come together? Did you just phone her? </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> How it started was David LaChapelle wanted to commission me. Tony Shafrazi’s his dealer, and they knew about the Stephanie Seymour painting. Pam was marrying Kid Rock, and so David LaChapelle wanted to commission me to make a painting as a wedding present. And then the wedding fell apart, but in the meantime, I got asked by <span style="font-style: italic;" class="Apple-style-span">Parkett</span> to be one of their artists, and I said, “Yes, but I want to make Pamela Anderson your centerfold.” Of course, she’s very savvy. She doesn’t do anything for nothing. It takes a million dollars to get her to take her clothes off. So I had to have somebody produce the whole thing, and I have to make three paintings. I’m going to make three really good ones though. And she gets a free painting! </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> You know, I think a lot of people just imagine that they’re a few more pictures of Pamela Anderson. Do you think that most people underestimate your work? </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> I think that whenever you make something that looks good, people want to underestimate it. They immediately want to dismiss it. If it looks really good, there’s an automatic rejection. But it doesn’t really matter, because I know that these paintings are going to look good in 20 or 30 or 50 years. So if people don’t get it now, they’re going to get it sooner or later. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> I’m surprised you’re so relaxed about people’s responses. You’re an artist who’s been utterly demonized because of your work. </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> Good point. I was. Nobody ever asks me about that, so I’m glad you did. I was demonized. People hated me. I fell from grace. I was cast out of the art world. The generation of the late ’80s clung to politically correct ’70s feminism, and I was seen as a traitor. But it’s been a really healthy thing for my work. It was a lousy thing in terms of how it made me feel, but I think that you’re a better artist if terrible things happen to you. I hate to say that because it’s such a cliché, but it’s true. I’m a better artist because I went through that stuff in the ’80s and ’90s. I almost had to step outside of my body, that’s how painful it was. Especially when you’re getting called names over sexual imagery. What could be worse? Sex! Oh, you sick pervert! Waves of shame! So I went to therapy, and hung out with this group of people who helped me a lot. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> It must have made you really question what you were doing. </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"> I’ve never doubted myself, but I did have a few questions like “Maybe I’m just not supposed to be a painter.” But I swear that the reason I continued on, why I thought, “I’m just going to keep doing it anyway,” was because I’d had this loft since 1976 for $400. I had this really cheap loft and I didn’t have to kill myself to make rent payments, so I was obviously doing what I was supposed to be doing. I thought, “You’re so lucky with the space. You’re supposed to be a painter making work.” It was that clear-cut. I really believe in that serendipitous thing. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="Apple-style-span"> You seem very philosophical about it now. </span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I’m old enough to know that it doesn’t mean anything. It all comes down to making the work. Back then the times weren’t open to what I was trying to say, and I had a really hard time communicating. Whose fault is that? It’s nobody’s fault. But now I am communicating, and people are hearing me. I’m in a really unique position. I’m getting all this success, but I’m not going to go crazy, because I don’t really care. What does it really change? I feel really lucky. I lived through it. But I know the way the world works—I’ve got a couple of years and then I’ll get criticized again. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-8167914062262886282008-11-06T13:27:00.000-08:002008-11-06T13:29:04.577-08:00Morandi<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhit21TrBHMLrIvuOPnvYvE4XhzTu94vv6Oz6U7SWGlAEH6Zxfz-switzjoQFks4CNhGl9mxb2bSREpDO1SxYMld8C0c-ZngTUycR33pBuU05TeOUk2H_AGZCOI7465VR5nOH1ACt0zByk/s1600-h/morandi081110_560.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhit21TrBHMLrIvuOPnvYvE4XhzTu94vv6Oz6U7SWGlAEH6Zxfz-switzjoQFks4CNhGl9mxb2bSREpDO1SxYMld8C0c-ZngTUycR33pBuU05TeOUk2H_AGZCOI7465VR5nOH1ACt0zByk/s400/morandi081110_560.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265659512490712690" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Jerry Saltz reviews Giorgio Morandi show in New York.</span><br /><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://nymag.com/arts/art/reviews/51805/">http://nymag.com/arts/art/reviews/51805/</a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-49315464632586639402008-10-27T09:36:00.001-07:002008-10-27T09:38:36.537-07:00Meg Cranston at he said-she said Opens Thursday Night<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YIKbIbxarh788922z_KOhpFIhY3g_eh2ql5aAxJ7yGGdAYU8CtFRPQarngbQsqScrCWLkkJdYXzv2G30WFnowKIq37szGud-RcninMiGvrWCzDn3UdZ4SkEhf8NKFlqVPAYBlL3ARTw/s1600-h/I+Froze+My+Ass2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YIKbIbxarh788922z_KOhpFIhY3g_eh2ql5aAxJ7yGGdAYU8CtFRPQarngbQsqScrCWLkkJdYXzv2G30WFnowKIq37szGud-RcninMiGvrWCzDn3UdZ4SkEhf8NKFlqVPAYBlL3ARTw/s400/I+Froze+My+Ass2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261873867017673138" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="www.hesaid-shesaid.com">www.hesaid-shesaid.com</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-91362009350569286512008-10-27T09:31:00.000-07:002008-10-27T09:35:45.156-07:00Recommended Exhibition Friday Night Opening<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5Mq9XAz7PtVvNjptz9fclPBKpqM4joHeAnuSxVIhVNZ2XzxRXg80y30iJLgzqtl17GpAQ-2_eFJiw86B8QQWuFUqIRvZoKMFt-yZbiPMItYjiiP9ieKaCS8hTSbVYwZj0mYs8VHcZ_4/s1600-h/guertinnorthway.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5Mq9XAz7PtVvNjptz9fclPBKpqM4joHeAnuSxVIhVNZ2XzxRXg80y30iJLgzqtl17GpAQ-2_eFJiw86B8QQWuFUqIRvZoKMFt-yZbiPMItYjiiP9ieKaCS8hTSbVYwZj0mYs8VHcZ_4/s400/guertinnorthway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261872779503963634" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Recommended Exhibition at </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,Geneva,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" ><img src="http://www.contemporaryartworkshop.org/trans.gif" alt="" border="0" height="1" vspace="7" width="1" /></span><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,Geneva,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" ><b>Contemporary Art Workshop<br />Heather Guertin<br />Nicole Northway<br /><br />Opens Friday (Halloween)<br />5:30-9:00<br /><br /><br /><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Verdana,Geneva,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" > <b>Contemporary Art Workshop,</b> 542 W. Grant Place, Chicago, IL 60614<br />ph. 773.472.4004 / e-mail <a href="mailto:info@contemporaryartworkshop.org">info@contemporaryartworkshop.org</a><br />Hours: Tues. - Fri. 12:30-5:30, Sat. By Appointment</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-1842724827988306332008-10-26T14:44:00.000-07:002008-10-26T14:49:36.204-07:00@ Recent Reviews: Heilmann and Peyton<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNOuWqHa0QCcxSUkatgGyNPe4dmRCgeqYdY-3rXL0TINpSsuDArkkT4jKknrXkhteSCN_T9EE6QhK2mMcsunFELUE08w4fGGW5zMqWfO47uQy4obucjZSrVp34Z3hdqzVGctiidLxb-s/s1600-h/24heli.large1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNOuWqHa0QCcxSUkatgGyNPe4dmRCgeqYdY-3rXL0TINpSsuDArkkT4jKknrXkhteSCN_T9EE6QhK2mMcsunFELUE08w4fGGW5zMqWfO47uQy4obucjZSrVp34Z3hdqzVGctiidLxb-s/s400/24heli.large1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261582415581106098" border="0" /></a><br />Paddy Johnson/Art Fag City on Peyton:<br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/24/arts/design/24heil.html?scp=1&sq=mary%20heilmann&st=cse">http://badatsports.com/2008/art-fag-city-on-live-forever-elizabeth-peyton/</a><br />and<br />Ken Johnson/NYTimes on Heilmann:<br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/24/arts/design/24heil.html?scp=1&sq=mary%20heilmann&st=cse">http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/24/arts/design/24heil.html?scp=1&sq=mary%20heilmann&st=cse</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-45229281459583421222008-10-21T19:51:00.000-07:002008-10-21T19:59:13.833-07:00Richard Prince Bomb Magazine Interview<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZYYJlp08R2geRIA5FZdb6hyphenhyphenv-_DJPm3rCcfxQBEodLGl33yje6T0udzTrMZv-kf9ovLTfnNI62n5B8OYLzDF7cQ7K-tFmD4b7Q8BtxgbVuk3BuID-vDoiqx8byyoyHsp_RSZvjPm2Kk/s1600-h/prince_joke.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZYYJlp08R2geRIA5FZdb6hyphenhyphenv-_DJPm3rCcfxQBEodLGl33yje6T0udzTrMZv-kf9ovLTfnNI62n5B8OYLzDF7cQ7K-tFmD4b7Q8BtxgbVuk3BuID-vDoiqx8byyoyHsp_RSZvjPm2Kk/s400/prince_joke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259807135337425778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI9VGAC1qc9Gn8os6bPA8icGfF2g6swo3LakDwfCUfi2A3DG4P2aJ3N_8kfWqT-0r9PwDRmfypEjm3bJndRs4QDi_AFyLBYXzabXVfHfoj73raN9Gy0g8khbfXvUleNRlC6fYGN4Y-BXQ/s1600-h/prince-20025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI9VGAC1qc9Gn8os6bPA8icGfF2g6swo3LakDwfCUfi2A3DG4P2aJ3N_8kfWqT-0r9PwDRmfypEjm3bJndRs4QDi_AFyLBYXzabXVfHfoj73raN9Gy0g8khbfXvUleNRlC6fYGN4Y-BXQ/s400/prince-20025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259807057977390706" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC40RCOD48GxxNV9YAcan9piRCEBKjv8NAqv8GoKZSEx2M1antH79DtIq81akfQIabpaKCFj1tSMCUY6ubFB9rfHuNHZg9Obnt_R6P_eSkWh4sif_wXuDVT4bytFWVPjmeWXQMo2oCFlY/s1600-h/o_plv0007_louis_vuitton_richard_prince_heartbreak_jokes_bag_2008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC40RCOD48GxxNV9YAcan9piRCEBKjv8NAqv8GoKZSEx2M1antH79DtIq81akfQIabpaKCFj1tSMCUY6ubFB9rfHuNHZg9Obnt_R6P_eSkWh4sif_wXuDVT4bytFWVPjmeWXQMo2oCFlY/s400/o_plv0007_louis_vuitton_richard_prince_heartbreak_jokes_bag_2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259806895897254530" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcFXyMk31Qwx-ikW4UNnoAmnOQM7hkkk7_d7tx25JsSbWYG0dcBZ7nREwy5GLn9fngcYEhEpCWwOgWGSl8qDboPIKInvLktbbXUXf2ol609x9_UIG65aI59eSGNlwswl0pSDyfvfLOCQ/s1600-h/20080321_psychiatrist_33.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFcFXyMk31Qwx-ikW4UNnoAmnOQM7hkkk7_d7tx25JsSbWYG0dcBZ7nREwy5GLn9fngcYEhEpCWwOgWGSl8qDboPIKInvLktbbXUXf2ol609x9_UIG65aI59eSGNlwswl0pSDyfvfLOCQ/s400/20080321_psychiatrist_33.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259806670975134514" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Marvin Heiferman I wanted to talk about abstraction, the idea that your works seem truly abstract and always have. I think that’s part of why everyone’s been so perplexed and confused about the work—for ten years—they didn’t know what they were looking at. They were pictures but didn’t <cite>look</cite> like pictures. They’re not factual, not quite fantasy. But they have, as you call it, a “look.” And if you give the “look” enough attention, it seems to approach the sublime.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Richard Prince Sublime or uncanny. You know, it’s very strange, I thought that the early pictures as objects, never mind the subjects, were very disorienting. I was always wondering, when does the disorientation become clear? It seemed to take a most unbelievably long time. I always thought the reason why it might have taken a long time for them to unwind was because it was hard for an audience to locate what was fiction and what was fact.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH And clearly they weren’t about what they seemed to be about. I always loved those pictures of the guys in suits. You’d look at them and think “Who the fuck cares?” But they were advertising pictures, so you’d wonder who was buying those suits, who was looking at them.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP It’s also about who was putting them out. It wasn’t just me that was putting them out. Someone had already made some kind of choices for them. These were actual photographs, literal rather than figurative. I simply attached the literal, the actual, to what was in fact a set-up, a version of a scene or something that was close to a movie still. I came along and made a real photograph out of what was essentially an image in a magazine. Let’s say <cite>People, Sports Illustrated</cite>, <cite>Fortune</cite>, <cite>Life</cite>, whatever.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH What do you think the confusion was? What do you think viewers weren’t getting in your work?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I think <em>I</em> was having the most trouble looking at photographs. I felt really uncomfortable with how the balance of fact and fiction worked in traditional photographs. I thought those kinds of pictures were fiction, where most people saw them as facts. The trouble I was having was that I thought my photographs had more non-fiction in them. What appeared to be fictional was, in fact, non-fiction. People usually look at photographs and expect to see fact, but in the end, don’t. When you go to the movies, you can be taken in, have the willingness to say, “Okay, I’m going to believe this scenario, this set-up.”</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I was thinking about that, what it was like to go to the movies, to walk into a dark room and say “I’m going to believe, for the time being, everything that I see in front of me…”</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Because you have this desire to.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Right. It’s like a lot of photography you run into in the course of a day.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP It’s editorial. People use photographs as visual language, to provide information, to supply a window, to supplement text. Most editorial photographs sit beside a whole page of text. They work together. But what happens when you just hang a photograph alone? People look at them and see them on an aesthetic level. The problem with my photographs, when they were hanging up, was that there weren’t those levels to look at. So all of a sudden the audience is standing in front of them saying, “Well, I know what I’m looking at, I’m looking at four men looking in the same direction. They look like what they look like.” But after that, what are you left with? I don’t think the author of those pictures, meaning me—knew or wanted to know what was going on. There was a crisis for me, in terms of what one believed, what one thought art was, and what one wanted to see art be about. I was fairly dissatisfied at the time, I wasn’t seeing the kind of art I wanted to see. So the logical thing to do was to make it. It’s what happens when you give up. I gave up what I was doing, I gave up making art that looked like art.</span></p><p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I don’t remember which interview it was, but you’ve talked about not aestheticizing your work…do you still believe that you don’t? When you started making these, you didn’t know what you were doing. At what point did you?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Well, the only thing I knew was that I didn’t want to aestheticize in the sense of silk screening or painting or drawing on or changing it—I suppose when I say the pictures weren’t aestheticized, they weren’t aestheticized in the same old way. Obviously they were in the sense that I changed an image from a magazine which was on paper to a photograph. If anything happened it was like adding onto the history of collage—instead of ripping the page out and pasting it up, the gesture was photographing the page, but in a way in which it looked like a photograph. And it was, in fact, a photograph. So with that small gesture, the depression of the shutter, the image was quite different from what most people were doing with found images or public imagery.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Were you thinking about Warhol when you made the first photographs?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Warhol and most of the pop artists aestheticized their found imagery. Warhol was struggling with abstract expressionism. You could see it in the early work, with <cite>Dick Tracy</cite> and <cite>Popeye</cite>. There were still some gestures left over. You can see the influence of Larry Rivers, Rauschenberg. Mostly Rivers. What happened to Warhol that was interesting, was that he was trying to get into art while most artists were trying to get outside of it. He was trying to get in because he had come from the commercial world. He realized that his commercial background was something you could bring to art rather than the other way around. From those early <cite>Dick Tracy</cite> and <cite>Popeye</cite> pieces from ‘61 to ‘62, you can really see his transformation, how by ‘63 he aestheticized the image radically. I wanted to use photography because it had another history. Painting, silk screen, drawing, they suggest something else. But photography suggested belief. It suggests fact. I thought that because I was choosing subject matter that was in fact, fiction, it might be better to use a factual medium to level that fiction, to occupy an area of “official fiction.” I could operate in that kind of gray area where the literal and the figurative become the same. That was the reason to add on or to make more than one image. Instead of one man looking in one direction, why not put three? That was like going to court, as I’ve said before; that was like evidence. Because if you don’t believe one, here’s two more.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH The work was evidence of that midpoint. It was about that tension, the evidence of that tension.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I was thinking more about proving my case. I was having a crisis, a social, political, critical crisis about the belief system—confronting all the systems that we were told were one way and, you later found out, were totally another way. And I thought that those were…</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Real life politics?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Yeah, and I think it wasn’t just me who was coming to terms with it, everybody was.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Is there a conscious choice to play to a more generous concept of an audience?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I think that those are conscious things that are in the work. For instance, in the first photographs, there were certain accessories that were re-photographed. Whether they were pens, watches, jewelry, I remember not having anything to do with the objects themselves other than having a relationship with the pictures of those objects.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Were you any closer to the pictures of girl friends?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP No closer. The people in the motorcycle magazines, I’m about as close to them as! was to a picture of jewelry hanging in a tree. What I did establish was a relationship with those things as images.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I was thinking of your extreme choices of subject matter…the Seaman’s furniture, the bottom of the line clothing, and all of a sudden you switch to Dunhill lighters, pens, pocket books.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP They’re the extreme; cartoon like, ideal.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH But then it comes back the other way, like oceans are oceans, available to everybody, but bikers’ girlfriends aren’t…</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Oceans without surfers, cowboys without Marlboros…Even though I’m aware of the classicism of the images. I seem to go after images that I don’t quite believe. And, I try to re-present them even more unbelievably. If there’s any one thing going on through these images, it’s that I as an audience don’t believe them.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Don’t buy them?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP The things that I probably know about are the things that I avoid dealing with. It didn’t occur to me that the girl friends were, in fact, girl friends. It didn’t occur to me that people take pictures of their girl friends and send them into magazines and then go out and buy the magazine. It occurred to me later. It’s like the watches. I must have taken a hundred pictures of watches, but never wore one. The way they were presented in say, the magazines, looking like living things. That’s what 1 liked. They look like they had egos. They were presented almost with a comic effect, when, in fact, they were just watches, alone or on a wrist. The more you saw them, the more unfictional they became. They would pop up around the city, on bus stops, all of a sudden—like the cowboy in the Marlboro ads.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I’ve been doing a lot of reading on the history of advertising in America, the way ads are constructed, the way people think about them. An idea that comes up again and again is that advertising is not made to get new customers, but is directed at users, people who’ve already used the product. If you own a </span><span class="caps" style="font-size:85%;">BMW</span><span style="font-size:85%;">, you look at </span><span class="caps" style="font-size:85%;">BMW</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> ads. I was really surprised. I had assumed that the idea was to be seduced into doing something that you weren’t ready to do. But thinking about the early, confused responses to your work, maybe that was part of the problem. You showed people images, but it didn’t have the “look” that they “bought” or could believe.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP It’s possible it’s one of the reasons I got involved. I know that some of the ideas for using advertising images were that they weren’t associated with an author, and weren’t believable. They were ads. If you look at editorial pictures, or editorial language, you have a real problem, because what was possibly true could turn out to be not true. With advertising, the untruth was a fact. At least you could count on those one or two things. And I think at the time I needed those one or two things.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH So, at what point did you start to know what you were doing?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I knew what I was doing in the sense of two things, I thought that there was a point for instance, let’s say the photograph that you included in that group show, in the spring of ‘79. That photograph, number one, to me, didn’t look like art. And number two, it didn’t look like it was made by any other art process that I had known about. At that point you think, well, those were the two things that I was looking for. What I did was not necessarily new, but the way the feelings were expressed was just different.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Your early works are such weird objects. It’s as if there’s no substance to them as objects. It’s not like looking at a painting—they didn’t even seem to look like a photograph. You confused people even on that count.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP That’s when I knew that what I was doing was going to be okay. I mean, I might not have known what they were, but I sort of knew what they weren’t.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH When do you think people caught on?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP When?</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH It took nearly ten years for you to get a decent amount of recognition. I always thought it was the <cite>Sunsets</cite> —</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP People tell me now that they liked the <cite>Sunsets</cite>. Well. I know that when I did them, it was a catastrophe. I had to go through another type of rejection.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH A rejection’s like an educational process for the audience: at <em>your</em> expense?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP The <cite>Sunset</cite> show was just a bomb. But a year later, people started picking up on it. I mean the critics or the reviewers or the journalists who put it down, the very same ones, put it up in about a year and a half.</span></p> <p class="aa" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">When I put the <cite>Gangs</cite> up, people really started to get it. I think because the subject matter changed. Rather than being about a section of a magazine, the gangs were about an entire magazine. It was all in one place—the white of the photographic paper became a wall—the frame itself became an object.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH The idea of the same within the difference became much more clear.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Even the term was funny; it was a non-fiction term—you “gang” together images for the sake of economy. The other thing about the <cite>Gangs</cite> that was great is that it’s difficult to work in a large photographic format because of the expense. Even though it’s not part of the criticism, artists know that you have certain kinds of economic things going on. The gang was a perfect way to get the most out of your negative. It sounds funny, but for an artist those things are really kind of what matters the most sometimes. It frees you up, to be able to work less expensively. All of a sudden, the limitations of the medium disappeared. Economically and spatially the gang satisfied everything. I could have one great picture in the middle, surrounded by eight supplemental images. It was so simple, I’d been using slides from day one and the arrangement of the gang are just slides taped together, the distance between the images is Just a slide mount.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH In looking at your writing and pictures and then thinking of the relationship of text to images in magazines…there’s a funny, controlled seamlessness.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I suppose, to some extent, there seems to be this idea that there’s an artist character—almost like I’m looking at him while he’s looking at it. I know that writing was a way in which to pinpoint what was going on, sit down and say, “Okay, what is it that I’m looking at.” Trying to be as strict as possible. Then the writing took on a story-telling or fictional element that seemed to supplement what was going on in the images. It was just my own way of dealing with the lack of critical or uncritical attention.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH You were answering things for yourself.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP When you know that no one’s looking, that no one’s going to read it, <em>that</em> provides a great amount of freedom. Because you don’t have to be that guarded. It’s probably a fairly good situation for an artist to be in.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Do you believe that one hundred percent?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Do I believe that? Oh sure. You obviously want some people to look at it, you know you’re not doing it for a bunch of trees in the forest. In the beginning, your audience is people you know. It’s a very small audience. And for most artists that notion of the audience never leaves them. They really believe, I’ve said this all along, that there’s about 250 people out there. You spend so much time alone, you do art in private for the private. It’s only been a recent phenomenon that the artist is conscious of larger audiences. My feeling, politically, is that that is going to backfire, eventually. Because with larger audiences comes interference. The art world has always been a private world. The minute you have an audience, you start censoring yourself unconsciously or consciously.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH As you get more successful do you do that? Do you stop yourself from doing…</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Sure. If I was aware of an audience in 1977, I couldn’t possibly have done the kind of work that I did. It comes out of some sort of crisis, and not necessarily an aesthetic one. I feel comfortable with a certain kind of privacy because I feel I can protect the work in a way in which it won’t be interfered with by the public, because I think the public knows nothing about art. And has no desire to know anything about it and I find that completely okay. The less they know about it the less they’ll interfere with it. If the kind of art that one makes disorients the art world, imagine what it would produce in the world outside it.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH It wouldn’t necessarily be a threat. They could just say “screwy artists.”</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP That’s the one thing the artist has going—I mean, you don’t walk in and say “screwy dentist.” We wouldn’t walk in and tell dentists what to do, how to behave, how to drill teeth. Or an open-heart surgeon. But people feel that they can do that with artists. Why, I have no idea, but they just feel that they can.</span></p><p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH When you started doing jokes, was there as weird a reaction as there was to the photographs?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP There hasn’t really been a reaction yet, because it’s been so private. I think the few reactions I’ve gotten <em>remind</em> me of the reactions I got from the early photographs because they’ve made people uncomfortable. They don’t really know where <em>it</em> is coming from; <em>it</em> being the actual object</span></p> <p class="aa" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I’ve used normal support systems and I tried to make it look pretty nice—I haven’t goofed it up any more than what we normally associate with jokes—I haven’t made it crazy. I’ve made it conservative. I’ve used consciously a conservative look to let the joke be more of a joke. If anything I think they’re tragic.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH You could say that the early pictures are conservative.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I thought that they were. I mean they were just photographs with mats and ordinary frames in ordinary galleries. I’ve always used those structures as a way to let the image, in this case the joke, be what it was originally. With the jokes I can point to them and at least say they’re jokes, which they are. That’s what I think is going to make people uncomfortable. Because it’s like a Beckett endgame. If anything, I have an uneasy feeling people will like them. Now people can say, “Oh, he’s the artist who does the jokes.” They can finally latch onto something, which I think people like to do. And if that happens, how am I going to get out of that situation?</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Where are the jokes from?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Joke magazines, books, same thing as the other images.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I think about how jokes are told. It’s not unlike re-photographing. Every time you tell the joke it’s embellished or altered. People recast them in the way they want to.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Actually, I have a joke here—that I found three times, but told differently. The one about, “I went to the psychiatrist. He said, ‘Tell me everything.’ I did, and now he’s doing my act.”</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH So you just go to a book store? And look under the humor section?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP They’ll have 4,000 of the world’s best jokes or you can pick up the Post every day and read Joey Adams’ column.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH It’s hard, I’ve tried.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I have books by Morey Amsterdam and Myron Cohen. These jokes seem to be more generic. I think I’m working with about 15 jokes. There have been times when I just pick out what I think is the funniest joke I’ve seen in a long time.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Do you use jokes which you think aren’t funny?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP No. I’ve used jokes which I don’t get, so I don’t know if they’re funny or not. I’ve used a joke which I don’t really understand.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Which one is that?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP There was a joke about going down to.. . it’s very complicated. It’s about selling silk in Florida. It’s an ethnic joke. I particularly like Jewish humor. I think there’s a <em>real</em> kind of history of that type of humor in American middle class life. It’s funny how it’s been rediscovered. We grew up with it on the Ed Sullivan show.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I hated that stuff when I was a kid.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Well, see, I actually kind of liked it.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH You’re not Jewish, that’s why.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Exactly. It’s funny how you’re attracted to what you aren’t. I didn’t get the psychiatrist joke for a long time, to tell you the truth. Also, with a joke, it’s funny where you locate yourself. In the psychiatrist joke, I realized that I identified with the psychiatrist. I identify with the person who says, “Tell me.” I don’t identify with the “I” or the pronoun. Now it’s as if I have 15 jokes, a routine, and every once in a while I incorporate another into the act.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I was walking down Times Square, and I looked at the Spectacolor sign, and you were on it. What is someone to think, in Times Square, when they read the psychiatrist joke after seeing some slash movie?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP My feeling is that they don’t. One—they don’t see it. And two, if they do, they don’t think about it. Most people, if they saw a joke on the Spectacolor machine, would probably think that that’s what it is. Just a joke. They certainly wouldn’t connect it with the art world or an artist. If they saw my joke t-shirt they might buy it. The joke would then become something they’d wear and to get some reaction from family or friends. I would imagine they would be <em>thinking</em> about the reaction from their <em>own</em> audience.</span></p> <p class="aa" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">To tell you the truth, I never saw the Spectacolor sign.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I want to get back to the idea of the sublime. Barnett Newman is one of my favorite painters and I stand in front of the big red painting at the Modern to get lost and to feel like a real person. My reaction towards it seems to put me in a place that is almost exactly between confusion and comfort. I was thinking about the level of abstraction I see in your work and was wondering if the confusion between fact and fiction is similar.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Newman’s stripes are—abstract and they’re not abstract.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH They’re not arbitrary. That’s what I think is great about them. There’s something so perfect about some of those paintings-they go <em>way</em> past the object.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP That’s what happens when it gets to be uncanny or sublime. If the work has that effect, whether or not it’s representational or abstract ceases to be an issue. It becomes something that starts to have its own kind of life. Maybe you just feel connected to it sympathetically.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH What I’m interested in is being able to look at something and get into a state of free fall. When I look at a Barnett Newman painting, it’s like free fall.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Maybe the reason that you perceive a free fall state, is because for the artist, art is, basically, second nature. And this basicness is, in the end, unbelievable.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH It’s like going to a movie—a movie is 90 minutes of it, if it works.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I feel the same way about certain pieces of art, ones that put me in a similar willingness to believe what is less true. Christian Metz called it a general lowering of wakefulness. That’s what he felt like at the movies, for instance. We’ve all been to the movies where, all of a sudden, the end comes up and you realize, “My God, I’ve been sitting here for two hours and I’m not even aware that I’m in the theatre.” You’re so “taken” by what you’re seeing projected from behind you. Whatever you saw that put you into that state of consciousness was perhaps unbelievable.</span></p><p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Maybe it’s about the perfect center line between extremes. That’s why I was thinking of your work. In terms of this fact/fiction schism; when I look at your work, I know what I’m looking at. I basically know where it’s coming from. Not the page of a magazine but…from instinct. If art’s about thinking, is the idea to get people into a thinking state?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP There’s this old argument that it’s not about thinking. It’s about being innocent—that’s the way Hollywood tells it.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Is the idea to get people to ask certain questions?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I don’t know. I just think sometimes when you’re making a work of art or you’re looking at a work of art, it’s this thing about lives. People’s lives. My life, your life. My friend’s life. The lives of people I don’t know and the lives of dead people. That’s why when I was asking you when you were looking at the Newman if there was some sort of communication. You know you’re looking at something done by another human being, done with a certain kind of energy that is essentially positive.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I’m not saying it’s better, it’s just that…</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I know what you mean, there’s more room. That’s part of the problem people have with photography. Photography is so constricting to some people.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Maybe you’ve got it right there. I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe there’s too much <em>already</em></span> there in photography to think about in any other way other than what it is supposed to look like.</p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH That’s what I was curious about, whether the question “What it is supposed to look like?” is in your mind or in the work.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP When I first saw <cite>The Slaves</cite>, by Michelangelo, or even the ??Tomb of the Medici Night?? and <cite>Day</cite>, I didn’t understand how he made the decision not to carve the man’s face. That was an unbelievable decision, or how those slaves are in fact, finished. That wasn’t really being done at the time, so I sometimes think about the idea that artists are the ones who give themselves permission to transfer their “thinking” to an object.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH So sex…</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Sex.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH We were talking about painting being sexy, as an action, but photography being sexy on a mental level. Is there sex in <cite>The Jokes</cite>?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Well, I don’t know. That’s one way of talking about it. The other way is just the way they look and feel like sex. I’ve heard that my work is really cool and I’ve always wanted to feel it’s just the opposite. It’s only recently, since the <cite>Gangs</cite>, that people talked about sex.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Do you think the coolness that some people talk about is the sexiness that others recognize?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Maybe because of the images themselves—bikers’ girlfriends. For instance, there were two reactions to the first girl friend piece; people thought it was ugly or they thought it was sexy. You can talk all you want about the art—but those girls took me with sex. They were very sexual looking. And the thing is, I’ve never been attracted to the <cite>Playboy</cite> thing. I’m attracted to people who aren’t necessarily desirable. In terms of the way most people look, I’m just the opposite. The more imperfect they are, the better I like them. Those first girl friends were portraits of a specific type of person. They were tough. In the end, they’re almost Arbus-like. In the end, that piece was about me as an artist coming across in terms of what I thought was sex. For instance, I had tried to do a boy friend picture for three years and I finally did one.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH What did the picture say?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Of all things, it came out as a cartoon. That has to tell you something that’s pretty weird. It’s a cartoon of a man. I couldn’t deal with a real image. This is like the cartoon of a man who’s got a cowboy hat on and cowboy boots, you know the one. It’s a new <cite>Gang</cite> put out last fall.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH I don’t know it.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I swear, it took me so long. I got lost in it. I wanted men’s torsos and crotches; these <cite>Gangs</cite><em>four</em></span> are clearly sexual. Male sexual. What’s interesting is that this work has been returned times, and I always ask who sent it back.</p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Who sent it back? The galleries?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP No, people who’ve bought it.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH People have bought it and sent it back? Great.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP I always ask, what member of the household sent it back? And it’s invariably the male. There you go. I don’t know if it’s because of his rather large member. What’s interesting to me, and the reason I’m satisfied with it is because it’s a cartoon. It’s not even a real image. That’s why I’m wondering why it’s being sent back. I see this as one of my favorite pieces so far because of the amount of times it’s been rejected. Now, have I had any problem with the girl friends? No. They’re popular. But these four male <cite>Gangs</cite> — this is really the point about sex. And it’s funny. When you asked before when did people start getting it? It’s when I started the <cite>Gangs</cite>. I started putting more sex into the work. Maybe that’s what people got out of it. I was surprised that people liked them, of all things! I remember when I first showed the girl friend gang, a lot of people didn’t. I understand, if it was a political thing- but people even asked, “Are these your girl friends?” Some women critics thought it was a sexist piece. When it was up at the Whitney Biennial, a reviewer for the <cite>Village Voice</cite>, the one who should be reviewing pottery, called it “sexist,” and I read sexy. I was so disturbed that she didn’t say sexy—she said sexist—I couldn’t believe it.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Do you think the <cite>Joke</cite> paintings are sexy? Is there sexiness in them?</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Look at them. I’m not sure. Sometimes I sit here and don’t even know what’s going on yet. Sometimes I look up and say, “What is this stuff? Is this where you’ve come to—jokes? How did this happen? What does this have to do with anything, in terms of art?” Someone’s going to describe me as the person who does jokes? Sometimes I feel that’s pretty strange. How did it get to this point? It’s like <cite>Valley of the Dolls</cite>.</span></p> <p class="q" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MH Probably a good place to be.</span></p> <p class="a" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">RP Maybe. There’s a lot of self doubt about this work. But what happens is there’s so much self doubt that it becomes abstract. It’s all or nothing. Either this is going to be completely wrong or it’s going to be right.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-75043229588870443312008-10-21T19:36:00.000-07:002008-10-21T19:38:43.538-07:00Laura Owens Essay<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp02pjT7LmHma-IROlBUro0b2pDeZpp7mqVQF8JrKy9Mfs_uEeymBTF_luezw5fadpNUg9lCXAAT6-5M181UDHC-HzMfLsQiJ_QauHKCgNHknP5fnn6jdr5SbmIRS3PjmYROrhvBuHlFw/s1600-h/owens1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp02pjT7LmHma-IROlBUro0b2pDeZpp7mqVQF8JrKy9Mfs_uEeymBTF_luezw5fadpNUg9lCXAAT6-5M181UDHC-HzMfLsQiJ_QauHKCgNHknP5fnn6jdr5SbmIRS3PjmYROrhvBuHlFw/s400/owens1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259802079397784738" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Laura Owens was born in the mid-west (Euclid, Ohio) and studied first in Rhode Island and Maine, before moving in 1994 to the California Institute of the Arts, at Valencia. She has been based in California for more than a decade and it must be said that the environs of Los Angeles seem like a natural habitat for the styles and concerns of her work. It is precisely because California is an artificial landscape, an oasis constructed out of a desert, importing trees and plants from all over the world to create an eclectic terra-formed background to its iconic suburbs, that it accommodates so readily the scope of Owens's work. Many of her paintings use landscape elements as a major part of their subject matter, but in a breezily oneiric manner. They reflect certain aspects of the familiar world, but at the same time offer blueprints for an entirely imaginary one. This is not a distortion but an accentuation of a southern Californian reality in which every view out of the window is a reminder of invented geographies and of uncontrolled climate experiments. Characteristic works such as 'Untitled, 2002', which collates freely examples of the 'wrong' fauna and flora (bears, monkeys, owls, rabbits, squirrels, tortoises, bare trees and blossoming flowers), amount to a denial of the western tradition of landscape painting, which is closely allied to the projects of taxonomy, mapping, measurement: all forms of laying claim to territory through the medium of precise knowledge. The essential subject matter of this tradition is natura naturata, nature recast by man's desires: a California of the mind. Owens's paintings abandon this schedule and these desires altogether, clearly preferring the possibilities inherent in the concept of natura naturans, the concept of a nature still unfinished and developing creatively, in a way that is unpredictable and beyond man's control. This Edenic alternative, while seeming to reflect a West Coast hybridity, actually subverts the conditions of landscape design in a celebration of non-human forms of coexistence. Owens's transformation of the idea of the Fall, of a natural history guided by human history, is suggested in a very recent painting , 'Untitled, 2006', in which an Edenic couple do not reconfigure the world around them through sexual knowledge, but are absorbed into it as much as they are absorbed in each other. The iconography of this lavish tableau is tellingly borrowed from Hindu traditions of representation, from a culture that thinks in terms of a common purpose for humanity and nature. Owens's quirky pastorals have a characteristic legerity and a seemingly inadvertent disrespect for evolutionary logic, but their diverting quaintness is actually fuelled by a very serious interest in principles of deregulation and of insubordination.<br />If the city of Los Angeles is remarkable for having pioneered the destruction of public space in the process of serving the security interests of corporations and middle class residents, this is precisely the kind of encroachment on the possibilities of interaction, and on the opportunities for free play, that Owens's work might have been designed to flout and undermine. According to Mike Davis, in his classic analysis, City of Quartz (1990), post-war development in Los Angeles has been geared progressively towards eliminating the possibilities of mixing classes and ethnicities, through the creation of gated communities, fortified institutions and panoptical shopping malls. This privatization of public space has been matched by the safeguarding of electronic space in ever more sophisticated provision of passwords, firewalls, virus detectors, etc. Revealingly, it is the totalizing system of the internet that Owens would like to break apart and cannibalize in her characterization of American social politics. In a remarkably explicit essay, 'A Painter's Vote', published in Art US in 2004, she makes clear the degree of her political activism, emphasizing her vehement opposition to the imperial politics of Rumsfeld and Cheney, and nailing her colours to the mast of what she describes as Howard Dean's 'bottom-up organizational structure [that] found its partner in the inherently DIY, rhizomatic, social structure that is the internet.' The connection with her painting that is inherent in this overt commitment to micropolitics lies in the essential porousness of her imagery and stylistic repertoire. Laying aside the usual array of cultural markers by means of which artistic identity is determined by geographical and historical means, Owens provides a calculated disarray of motifs and techniques, quite deliberately mixing a variety of the 'wrong' art traditions: non-western, non-urban, ethnically diverse. This systematic browsing among mutually estranged traditions should not be confused with a postmodernist form of bricolage, where the experience of difference is replaced by the commodifying of cultures whose distinctiveness is subsumed in their equal availability for consumption. Owens's allusion to Deleuze and Guattari's concept of the rhizome indicates her approval of non-proprietorial, non-hierarchizing forms of attention, of an attitude towards multiplicity that sees it as the fundamentally animating principle of an art that could offer resistance to contemporary forms of social control.<br />The mixing of styles and motifs is not limited to ethnic and geographical assortment, but is equally insistent on transgressing boundaries between 'high' and 'low' culture; much of the vitality of Owens's work comes from its fascination with the colloquial registers of folk art, handicrafts, sign-painting, etc. Of course, it is often very difficult to weigh the meanings of these different elements; but that is an important part of the reason for including them. Individual motifs that might be emblematic in one context, are given another context, or even several, by means of constant juxtaposition with competing claims for the attention. The difficulty, and even the impossibility, of knowing what to focus on, is a carefully cultivated aspect of Owens's aesthetic that is reflected at the level of technique in paintings such as 'Untitled, 1999', where the problem of discrimination (of identifying the cultural source of any given element) is pre-empted by the use of abstract forms. But if the heterogeneousness of canvases like this one seems merely formal, the task of subordinating certain elements to others is still obstructed by the inconsistency of technique, whereby paint is sprayed, washed, spread, brushed, squeezed and inscribed onto the surface of the picture, playing havoc with one's received ideas about how to relate to one another the many different layers of mark-making. The separate incidents in the painting are like objects swimming on the retina; the moment one tries to fix them in view, they change their place in the whole ensemble. The 'molecular' painting 'Untitled, 1998' and the 'numerical' painting 'Untitled, 1999' dramatize a parallel effect, in a more schematic, though elegant, form. Owens destabilizes the figurative elements in her paintings by constantly dislocating the relations between them, instigating a devolutionary campaign against the history of western aesthetics. And she destabilizes the abstract elements in her work through a structural hesitation, leaving us permanently uncertain which parts of the composition are more load-bearing than others.<br />In her most recent exhibitions, Owens has shown an enthusiasm for using paint to interpret the conventions of other media, such as tapestry, embroidery and printing. Many of these recastings have a surprising anecdotal power. Although she is not a narrative artist--and even when she borrows from narrative art, this is always with a view to producing an extract, or abstract, that contradicts the basis of narrative form--her choice of images often evokes historically specific uses of visual culture for story-telling purposes in what was basically an oral culture. The most obvious example of this would be the 2006 painting of one section from the Bayeux Tapestry. Although there is an element of nostalgia in this recapturing of the scope and appeal of the language of visual representation, accentuated by Owens's magnifying of the dimensions of the work, its chief impact is to restore a sense of the desirability of a community of interpretation that is not exclusive or privileged. Story-telling art assumes or proposes a stock of knowledge and techniques that will both elicit and confirm the communal nature of the world it constructs. Owens's resort to clear and decisive uses of forms of vernacular art suggests a desire to reverse Walter Benjamin's diagnosis of the shift from the position of the story-teller to that of the novelist; the shift from orality to literacy means an expansion in the size of the audience, but equally an atomization of the audience into a host of solitary readers, while the scenario of the story-teller in direct communication with those who listen to the unfolding of the tale, reflects a very similar sense of scale to that of the grass-roots local politics that Owens hopes to see coming alive in the heartland of corporate America. The Bayeux tableau has a strikingly modern freshness and audacity, but is still very distant in cultural historical terms. Much closer in time, and more familiar, are those residual forms of a popular culture dependent on a close and active relationship between artist and audience; many of the recent paintings siphon off images from the visual repertoire of the circus, vaudeville, fairground attractions and theatrical set-painting. These are the scenes of improvisation and intervention, of a carnivalesque potential to cross the boundaries of genre, of decorum, of the imagination's apartheid. Owens's festive comedies of cultural identity have the same iconoclastic scope as the kind of vulgar performance celebrated by Mikhail Bakhtin in his seminal text, The Dialogic Imagination: 'at the same time when poetry was accomplishing the task of cultural, national and political centralization of the verbal-ideological levels, on the lower levels, on the stages of local fairs and at buffoon spectacles, the heteroglossia of the clown sounded forth.'<br />In some ways this description of Owens's working practices makes her sound like one of Nicolas Bourriaud's 'semionauts', whose artistic endeavours consist of clearing original pathways through a forest of existing signs. Bourriaud's conception of 'postproduction', whereby contemporary art is characterised by the production of new artworks on the basis of work created already by others, has currency at the moment, not least because of its amenability to comparison with ways of using the worldwide web. The contemporary artist operates like a DJ engrossed in sampling and pasting together a range of different recorded sounds, or like the websurfer who devises a series of links through the plethora of data supplied by different search engines. And yet, despite Owens's own attraction towards the idea of blogging her way into the history of art and bookmarking her way out of its conventional sequences and filiations, her handling of paint and collaging of different materials gives her work a texture, a grain, that places it simultaneously in relation to much older traditions of fabrication, and of artisanal craft. In fact, the more her work seems correlative to contemporary theoretical developments, the more she seems to take pleasure in the handling of different materials and in an increasing versatility of technique. There is more than one sense in which her prodigious output makes this artist look like her own workshop. Laura Owens converts the idea of the individual artist into an entire team of her own assistants. The principle of collaboration extends beyond the scanning and revising of pre-existing visual conventions to include active participation in the visual predicates of work already hanging in the spaces where she has exhibited. During her residency in 2000 at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, she exploited the Art Nouveau decorative backgrounds to the salon paintings of the same period, while a commission in the same year for The Royal Botanical Gardens in Edinburgh involved triangulating her own work with that of the botanical teaching diagrams of John Hutton Balfour, and the designs of the gardens themselves. This is not so much 'postproduction' as creative interference; even a kind of interpellation that contributes to something already in process while also disturbing it. Owens has the reputation of a rather light-fingered entertainer, but this appreciation of the seductive qualities of her work does not always register its agitpop dimensions, or its subtle but steady tendentiousness.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-73222306275686280692008-10-16T18:05:00.000-07:002008-10-16T18:06:30.233-07:00art from everyday life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3az-piqB8aHgUWplq9GM0zvJzkDy7WOf4dV3B7dFtXGVdNncoSGZsSEIsbvRxMKxlxPzAM2ghvhWe23XzSYZZ1Ni6M5GCsq0kmMHlrth7yTKzH0MsVFWQ_8BnYVbwe2hqOIi-0i9oMA/s1600-h/donkey-kong-post-it-note-art-2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3az-piqB8aHgUWplq9GM0zvJzkDy7WOf4dV3B7dFtXGVdNncoSGZsSEIsbvRxMKxlxPzAM2ghvhWe23XzSYZZ1Ni6M5GCsq0kmMHlrth7yTKzH0MsVFWQ_8BnYVbwe2hqOIi-0i9oMA/s400/donkey-kong-post-it-note-art-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257922948727170146" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://weburbanist.com/2008/01/24/more-unusual-art-from-everyday-materials-16-post-it-note-pranks-sculptures-and-murals/">http://weburbanist.com/2008/01/24/more-unusual-art-from-everyday-materials-16-post-it-note-pranks-sculptures-and-murals/</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-53328775751364960612008-09-25T14:34:00.000-07:002008-09-25T14:38:08.340-07:00history of bad painting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3015JzaQ30meVUY9VGfxMxU8rPRGXTO8yemQdN1LzgaU404eJLL9tDqjVUmY9EmhHpax4iZ_iDYEwTpB7Zu0jEA0sHaZJ9cEfKEuMyu6kxnwEh7OcyuR6x5YKTQO2GFPCjG_WLbgVH0/s1600-h/badpainting.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3015JzaQ30meVUY9VGfxMxU8rPRGXTO8yemQdN1LzgaU404eJLL9tDqjVUmY9EmhHpax4iZ_iDYEwTpB7Zu0jEA0sHaZJ9cEfKEuMyu6kxnwEh7OcyuR6x5YKTQO2GFPCjG_WLbgVH0/s400/badpainting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250076138900948914" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Check out this link to something else we made reference to in a class discussion: the purpose of bad painting, or what bad painting seeks to achieve.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.onlineweblibrary.com/blog/?p=576">http://www.onlineweblibrary.com/blog/?p=576</a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-34453083974907358962008-09-25T12:22:00.000-07:002008-09-30T11:04:56.999-07:00In Defense of Sentimentality<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjUNwa3ae9xdAcPnNksm_kkHFEyxkjnDktAm3fGZeafri3jXGpML3X9AnFR6C5Bxp0B2sC-MgUFr21Mn9y81Rdt6Nlhh6cy584SGbUqOYuoyhjrmM-IS-h9gUnkMt0GPd5qlHZpId2wY/s1600-h/Care_Bears_Easter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjUNwa3ae9xdAcPnNksm_kkHFEyxkjnDktAm3fGZeafri3jXGpML3X9AnFR6C5Bxp0B2sC-MgUFr21Mn9y81Rdt6Nlhh6cy584SGbUqOYuoyhjrmM-IS-h9gUnkMt0GPd5qlHZpId2wY/s400/Care_Bears_Easter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250042063427208946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I have just e-mailed everyone a PDF of the essay "Why We Enjoy Condemning Sentimentality: A Meta-Aesthetic Perspective," </span><span style="font-family:arial;">by Deborah Knight, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism</span><span style="font-family:arial;">, Vol. 57, No. 4, (Autumn, 1999), pp. 411- 420, Blackwell Publishing on behalf of The American Society for Aesthetics. Let me know if you did not receive it. Please have it read for discussion on October 6.<br /><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-74244669001227953372008-09-23T14:01:00.001-07:002008-09-25T09:55:03.100-07:00Joy of Our Paintings 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAgoDjtLzjLsvizR3WkAM944psAgpxt6CTG7kTYKxldQwAgSeRU27Q3CzSfdK5PoltHrCozxZy3v2KTAkkmdMO6dC-rWTEpooOzvtPksG5ufO39L06upoE6yYCY5gnKwuYVD8ufyhosY0/s1600-h/jon1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAgoDjtLzjLsvizR3WkAM944psAgpxt6CTG7kTYKxldQwAgSeRU27Q3CzSfdK5PoltHrCozxZy3v2KTAkkmdMO6dC-rWTEpooOzvtPksG5ufO39L06upoE6yYCY5gnKwuYVD8ufyhosY0/s200/jon1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326905666593586" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAPqWasIXAmMy0RzAbMFOLVtBpYXdu2_pq4bAkfvqXyOOgn5DHAIJgfk9Svgm2K8p4qWRgavw1Sd8Y_ZTUFQv7oH0dUc56TERhuCPoDSqTB1vgDNHpLYFXhnEz2WiNxfyvgOzooQtO2w/s1600-h/jon2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAPqWasIXAmMy0RzAbMFOLVtBpYXdu2_pq4bAkfvqXyOOgn5DHAIJgfk9Svgm2K8p4qWRgavw1Sd8Y_ZTUFQv7oH0dUc56TERhuCPoDSqTB1vgDNHpLYFXhnEz2WiNxfyvgOzooQtO2w/s200/jon2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326914093837586" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Jon Tokarz</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6MNgxOuXGUkO3hN_-Yf5lYGFk7hvkPUsVBcfjpoijyoyVQJtUMKvPDbKDkPVHUD6cDnYDXeUh2kIzZBdTDL0JFMK3xNQ1eTY17GWYt4WbgEczzT03hNCmIszaUaemViW7YN6_e_ZPaE/s1600-h/jim1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6MNgxOuXGUkO3hN_-Yf5lYGFk7hvkPUsVBcfjpoijyoyVQJtUMKvPDbKDkPVHUD6cDnYDXeUh2kIzZBdTDL0JFMK3xNQ1eTY17GWYt4WbgEczzT03hNCmIszaUaemViW7YN6_e_ZPaE/s200/jim1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326810819494818" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVhfyAdes_l79UtlVjfIw2PPqbyJQCq6r2bgY0XTqf0CE_50c4yZiEob1FD2TCvSndlzl9lT6TCbCUn5Xp6MgUtwmzM_BqlIfrSpgV3YOaU1IZr910C2zC_HFgCt_dH0K_nUvZvqN36s/s1600-h/jim2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVhfyAdes_l79UtlVjfIw2PPqbyJQCq6r2bgY0XTqf0CE_50c4yZiEob1FD2TCvSndlzl9lT6TCbCUn5Xp6MgUtwmzM_BqlIfrSpgV3YOaU1IZr910C2zC_HFgCt_dH0K_nUvZvqN36s/s200/jim2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326810727978226" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Jim Papadopoulos</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9yvpll89rpxaaekAmmRTNv-2AT_YeiP_Qppz5fBEEMa6SilX0ZzA4-4txYB169bjxsf0Vnb1vj8h-XfaaQ_4lzzvpWUHvxp0fgErbcZqaS3oCiAxC9W7JNGG0ZvMkUF410c8muedFnk/s1600-h/rachel1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9yvpll89rpxaaekAmmRTNv-2AT_YeiP_Qppz5fBEEMa6SilX0ZzA4-4txYB169bjxsf0Vnb1vj8h-XfaaQ_4lzzvpWUHvxp0fgErbcZqaS3oCiAxC9W7JNGG0ZvMkUF410c8muedFnk/s200/rachel1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326637211440706" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBtie4t8XKMBh9jC_zgX-OKM4YXnKVen0dRX8SPTOofLdXyopSHo2TuFAYUWclH4nO2_Mm-ReoYKsoNMNDdpeUWZoyBbEpThQGfqtCB151nFs8-PzT6PhNuydQA87pP3vpdkfvMqtF9Ro/s1600-h/rachel2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBtie4t8XKMBh9jC_zgX-OKM4YXnKVen0dRX8SPTOofLdXyopSHo2TuFAYUWclH4nO2_Mm-ReoYKsoNMNDdpeUWZoyBbEpThQGfqtCB151nFs8-PzT6PhNuydQA87pP3vpdkfvMqtF9Ro/s200/rachel2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326643629829474" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZg7nKgfzpoPn4j1KmWeWNjpXMzKYr9p9CmCDzWnbLnaYp7kg1poR8dqyzlWpoaH_7yRkxs2mj0vz6ngp4jDTRtG3MuKDi0Prlxr4DYYdVQZVKzZFLKk9r_IR3pETmeatUrsHAvyYk2g/s1600-h/rachel3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZg7nKgfzpoPn4j1KmWeWNjpXMzKYr9p9CmCDzWnbLnaYp7kg1poR8dqyzlWpoaH_7yRkxs2mj0vz6ngp4jDTRtG3MuKDi0Prlxr4DYYdVQZVKzZFLKk9r_IR3pETmeatUrsHAvyYk2g/s200/rachel3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326644783536338" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Rachel Dutenhaver<br /><br /></span></span> </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpj7KjpKDPsNHT3yY1iuxlV5QPsVrOX3rG1hrVyiIDYUfmZtXL9MDpOIfF0d5bOj7sRJvhL440GT5kefYXDYBJRj_QqcKoO_3HG9osFDabG0H82PwjCNTF_XucEH-0gfOXXYZsMOxxGPk/s1600-h/roxy1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpj7KjpKDPsNHT3yY1iuxlV5QPsVrOX3rG1hrVyiIDYUfmZtXL9MDpOIfF0d5bOj7sRJvhL440GT5kefYXDYBJRj_QqcKoO_3HG9osFDabG0H82PwjCNTF_XucEH-0gfOXXYZsMOxxGPk/s200/roxy1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326654447847314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZT9nLbKsZcomzWJVo3S-qHA8yRmQ0jX426znfIQR4NAOG1VlL31E5YINII-7253bdyebid74TZuFvXY63lFbObJ1YGc8mAZ-QaHBWmDkuTYAIAYu3lkNLa1a0GvHZOEkzKXJxCPz_qR0/s1600-h/roxy2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZT9nLbKsZcomzWJVo3S-qHA8yRmQ0jX426znfIQR4NAOG1VlL31E5YINII-7253bdyebid74TZuFvXY63lFbObJ1YGc8mAZ-QaHBWmDkuTYAIAYu3lkNLa1a0GvHZOEkzKXJxCPz_qR0/s200/roxy2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326656858712194" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Roxanne DeLuca<br /><br /></span></span> </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBOqnOmeiRkqV03zCd9lk9COaw-XC6qmtV0EreJs_Oup692_VT16SRg5vahUl2XoZmKrDwLw8UfO2ntYAuiYQdZmepDtV-8zRa_TEo1sHvtfWq0FMzbX_Cln5E-qjlwo7pvU_HQAppdQ/s1600-h/manny1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSBOqnOmeiRkqV03zCd9lk9COaw-XC6qmtV0EreJs_Oup692_VT16SRg5vahUl2XoZmKrDwLw8UfO2ntYAuiYQdZmepDtV-8zRa_TEo1sHvtfWq0FMzbX_Cln5E-qjlwo7pvU_HQAppdQ/s200/manny1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326330448100754" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMNgLG3Nq_9PhGqA5sCWiCBRMQKlW4vaT1wxm-OmIMBPHMyzEuC0kMxeznzMTOqjoKyo1NO1EJ3tYWBvfWaeB6MCfNzf6VHSHDzj-kKct4nGP9QA29PvLIdCecBzcp6FYC1W9pixKPck/s1600-h/manny2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMNgLG3Nq_9PhGqA5sCWiCBRMQKlW4vaT1wxm-OmIMBPHMyzEuC0kMxeznzMTOqjoKyo1NO1EJ3tYWBvfWaeB6MCfNzf6VHSHDzj-kKct4nGP9QA29PvLIdCecBzcp6FYC1W9pixKPck/s200/manny2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326340124904850" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Manny Silva</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnWClW_IZOq346OEOeiChDy3y58RJMxOqn0FVYWH-rSYemF37R427fCGCELTuEpipX98Sg6YrHBQcnH7BmsP0rNW_ZYFl2l0In6xVFF4AaM6WflWvdfkCysLakzL4zuhoDmCiXB9jtk8/s1600-h/marco1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnWClW_IZOq346OEOeiChDy3y58RJMxOqn0FVYWH-rSYemF37R427fCGCELTuEpipX98Sg6YrHBQcnH7BmsP0rNW_ZYFl2l0In6xVFF4AaM6WflWvdfkCysLakzL4zuhoDmCiXB9jtk8/s200/marco1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326346048943234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCbBVOfhfD4APzbhdAUlQwiu7MRnJkOvYdjgA3hGSFP7i84eCy1T068l_0BimAepCO1m5FuVR1Yvfkdt2M3mww6PDzFMnnqa40nAenfwmus4pTLb9Z0Ddp-krKJZyJO5q9KoL003mGE4k/s1600-h/marco2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCbBVOfhfD4APzbhdAUlQwiu7MRnJkOvYdjgA3hGSFP7i84eCy1T068l_0BimAepCO1m5FuVR1Yvfkdt2M3mww6PDzFMnnqa40nAenfwmus4pTLb9Z0Ddp-krKJZyJO5q9KoL003mGE4k/s200/marco2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326349909695106" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Marco Ordonez</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzAcvQf3IgCrSBDcWbjUMyXiV2ogPOnmbeS_GgmjeoNVqjk6QAxK1JbKJQX6HAGOG7t4wOoR8-_71ZOkcB16C87url9BbUQHZwYWsRJLwp6CfroDPmApwUm_6kVXSsrtxVqopMAzOBSSQ/s1600-h/ming.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzAcvQf3IgCrSBDcWbjUMyXiV2ogPOnmbeS_GgmjeoNVqjk6QAxK1JbKJQX6HAGOG7t4wOoR8-_71ZOkcB16C87url9BbUQHZwYWsRJLwp6CfroDPmApwUm_6kVXSsrtxVqopMAzOBSSQ/s200/ming.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326348529695234" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Ming Ng</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL04LjIdzw5sVxeaOUTiIymvAZ4HcfPovnezDyNtubOliO0Z4FAOhSa_RiP0Ehsf_Ip_R0P4SbBM52cJo_eYSl6xR-0ioXaDao6vSWNa9IB2AofABTjd_5kbceYd7Em4W-HM_-gdjuOL4/s1600-h/jeungyong1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL04LjIdzw5sVxeaOUTiIymvAZ4HcfPovnezDyNtubOliO0Z4FAOhSa_RiP0Ehsf_Ip_R0P4SbBM52cJo_eYSl6xR-0ioXaDao6vSWNa9IB2AofABTjd_5kbceYd7Em4W-HM_-gdjuOL4/s200/jeungyong1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326059763315890" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEwYAujG-3PTyXaHPkWQF1hY3hL_ZLOfDjf8T_RWmqOENe14egVgrhb6H9YdTMVo0vb9eSraOvWJdoahO4Qaajaxkf83RLhVg4mp_tHtCJn5C-1Dgxu574NWGTCsqndvoozqdF5Xdz6g/s1600-h/jeungyong2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEwYAujG-3PTyXaHPkWQF1hY3hL_ZLOfDjf8T_RWmqOENe14egVgrhb6H9YdTMVo0vb9eSraOvWJdoahO4Qaajaxkf83RLhVg4mp_tHtCJn5C-1Dgxu574NWGTCsqndvoozqdF5Xdz6g/s200/jeungyong2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249326064460763602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Jeungyong Park</span></span><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZJ7JthukbXZuN3h7llw0JVfBDrJL_SA3U9X4spgLtLUuIfxsCcHjRzp6rjBfPyyJrabldG4OyBHxmON6FgxZ3UoSZqYynMo161NYozSP9yuF1MqCdKJhA8dwo_KryHBDvtBtD1zsFv4/s1600-h/esmeraldo.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZJ7JthukbXZuN3h7llw0JVfBDrJL_SA3U9X4spgLtLUuIfxsCcHjRzp6rjBfPyyJrabldG4OyBHxmON6FgxZ3UoSZqYynMo161NYozSP9yuF1MqCdKJhA8dwo_KryHBDvtBtD1zsFv4/s200/esmeraldo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325484767050226" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Esmeraldo Garcia</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOLuxEw6rVjOZvW5_P_EnVZT9IvR-DMgy1NROFQZyu2p7XyXEb_r-d6ZlfT9RhNAkpE2cDhVHeT9ak_Q7GCFRzWkpYsVwDvAKwDy5M5ctKkYluQAqVKVy4QY8d27HuVkGZAbPHAeVLq4/s1600-h/irene1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOLuxEw6rVjOZvW5_P_EnVZT9IvR-DMgy1NROFQZyu2p7XyXEb_r-d6ZlfT9RhNAkpE2cDhVHeT9ak_Q7GCFRzWkpYsVwDvAKwDy5M5ctKkYluQAqVKVy4QY8d27HuVkGZAbPHAeVLq4/s200/irene1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325486261330418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzSCZy9QKKgyefD5aENUoayEeZ_q2nL2cUj6aEZlTF8EhRIRAid9Rkoa75uo-7wDMEd2Dal9u63cvKCTn8uLNHE6RS2Ru58r-vUP_SMAwsf9eb7r3nb_zJkJ_j8si2KqqWPvf6_NcMaM/s1600-h/irene2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzSCZy9QKKgyefD5aENUoayEeZ_q2nL2cUj6aEZlTF8EhRIRAid9Rkoa75uo-7wDMEd2Dal9u63cvKCTn8uLNHE6RS2Ru58r-vUP_SMAwsf9eb7r3nb_zJkJ_j8si2KqqWPvf6_NcMaM/s200/irene2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325495638171266" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Irene Perez</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWLfO1CJ2gs_RcrC32uryi6Popxc4Biaac5K05zjq6gDCF9iZTDwDgqwSNbN0AaEkx-AohisTgmLvimN7d1Zixsb6fswB8YnnvE4xmwX0g2apdGMLMsdn05nVr2rTImIk9WvTN74XiBo/s1600-h/izzy1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; 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display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCx5k8rwgYVBLrItUPVxuD8sqVyT7D0V5m01c7eaWk10Or_2Ao4R2VgD3PECSmGmDG-yn7sguj1Hgqk3QFhTRtNhhn9Y-XPobV8KDGWzjomgHUyuVQr4rbxrfAUu7pCVug-y6HoL83A1s/s200/chris1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325186954839986" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bF4D7CsTz4IgJ6sTTqbsU6AIh8d0nl3VuIxnp8-pvObwHgcYzSUGi7HsvJMCCL8X323tRPLOk7h2SmwAJV5_bee5zbt1Yh3Ti-X0NR3WCTbQ_wTeNZQUeT-yE4fa0PpdDaGsirR2gto/s1600-h/chris2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bF4D7CsTz4IgJ6sTTqbsU6AIh8d0nl3VuIxnp8-pvObwHgcYzSUGi7HsvJMCCL8X323tRPLOk7h2SmwAJV5_bee5zbt1Yh3Ti-X0NR3WCTbQ_wTeNZQUeT-yE4fa0PpdDaGsirR2gto/s200/chris2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325195903520402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Chris Ferrari</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBH6UtZOqqdcBYJ7ADIujeBhQLLMXj1G-Iu_hijOm2mJb2LZrrnEiTltGydrd3y-ZusMIBJ0pZ6bV1se3OMIXrJs_bXcFbLpVMB8Xi9TJbfQcnSJvhh1FhqjH0RWED4uxP8Oxcn6i5hI/s1600-h/dionne1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlBH6UtZOqqdcBYJ7ADIujeBhQLLMXj1G-Iu_hijOm2mJb2LZrrnEiTltGydrd3y-ZusMIBJ0pZ6bV1se3OMIXrJs_bXcFbLpVMB8Xi9TJbfQcnSJvhh1FhqjH0RWED4uxP8Oxcn6i5hI/s200/dionne1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325196851474194" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnOliY8kjWyj73OshKXzIVwmtyA7Mn3VTVUjHSZIZZ995XqYm0Y7_7k6jGj8xyOkgIDKW-8Bf0G-XDBr23l9f4PAvLC_frEWe8ZyCuYDVRaeU2dPI4aW59TDPu7FzrWcx9F-MwGKMR7s/s1600-h/dionne2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnOliY8kjWyj73OshKXzIVwmtyA7Mn3VTVUjHSZIZZ995XqYm0Y7_7k6jGj8xyOkgIDKW-8Bf0G-XDBr23l9f4PAvLC_frEWe8ZyCuYDVRaeU2dPI4aW59TDPu7FzrWcx9F-MwGKMR7s/s200/dionne2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325205120018450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Dionne Milton</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbu9hS_sNxeIjfRM1ccT8E61mZvx8QqxeYLH8i8g7dDEUK6wtTQcN-XdWqmBjMYk-XsZ8Jvt7fFMP8qkwi8cU8J_ETrIEcA39g23hW8vX0xElNh4FldVFj8JQi-vg8BiVpzQRbagnK4v0/s1600-h/emily.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbu9hS_sNxeIjfRM1ccT8E61mZvx8QqxeYLH8i8g7dDEUK6wtTQcN-XdWqmBjMYk-XsZ8Jvt7fFMP8qkwi8cU8J_ETrIEcA39g23hW8vX0xElNh4FldVFj8JQi-vg8BiVpzQRbagnK4v0/s200/emily.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249325212013073762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Emily Grelk</span></span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-34975993230752710972008-09-23T10:04:00.000-07:002008-09-23T10:22:22.363-07:00Ann Craven by Josh Smith<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhdYxJzWzc06-2bZibG4cIF35lS9cV4fuBfBGWcM7V64TwqbtkppFjx0pPktCy40x6bkJR5iwcGhMm9LP6EslMEdIlmB27PdzzygQvZfWFeSTLKDuyLef5z3JQn00gw8L-2CfWnjEmvvA/s1600-h/Ann_Craven_panda.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhdYxJzWzc06-2bZibG4cIF35lS9cV4fuBfBGWcM7V64TwqbtkppFjx0pPktCy40x6bkJR5iwcGhMm9LP6EslMEdIlmB27PdzzygQvZfWFeSTLKDuyLef5z3JQn00gw8L-2CfWnjEmvvA/s400/Ann_Craven_panda.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249267172403935634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:78%;">A</span><span style="font-size:78%;">nn Craven</span></span></span><br /><br /></div><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >So, we spoke a bit about this painting last month, and I ran across this piece of writing on the artist by fellow painter/artist Josh Smith. I think it's a quite beautiful tribute to her and her work.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >The following essay was written for my friend Ann Craven. I tend to write how I talk. I do this because I am afraid that if I write any other way it would be fake. I hope that my sense of humor comes across in this little statement. I really do care about Ann.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >—Josh Smith, January 2008</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Ann Craven’s paintings are all different. When you get to look at one you feel lucky. If you put one of her paintings on the wall it just looks good. Whether you want something tough or something sweet, one of Ann’s paintings fills the void. When you see Ann Craven's art somewhere, it really works to separate itself from everything around it. It exists in its own time. The paintings themselves are beautiful objects. Each one looks as if it has always existed . . . like caring hands have moved it from wall to wall over a period of time. This gives the work a warm weight. It is hard for me to say whether I like this type of work, but I then start to realize that Ann’s work is never “this type of work.” It is always its own thing. Ann’s art opens my eyes to other things in the world, which I might otherwise not have thought anything of. Her art is straightforward. She is always trying to portray it as having some sort of conceptual meaning, and it does . . . but not in the way she thinks. The conceptual aspect of Ann’s painting lies in the straightforward and driving process and style in which she works. She’s a very hard-working person. Often she sets out to do impossible things. But no matter what she does, its absolute quality prevails.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Ann’s work is capable of entering our consciousness at many different points. It can, at the same time, be both a cold symbol of modern times and the straightforward presentation of its subject. In one context, Ann’s work can be seen as colorful decoration; in another, the same painting becomes a biting comment on the state of things. Critics of Ann Craven’s work say it lacks the “cool factor.” All that means is that Ann gets to continue producing her work unfettered. She has managed to push hard through the challenges of being a great artist.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >The birds look good. They serve as a perfect vehicle for color and expression. They are sometimes perceived as silly. A big painting of a bird is silly, but once you get over that initial stage of perception, things begin to change within the paintings. The scale and the alloverness of them stand out for me; also, the straightforward and casual assuredness with which the paintings are executed. A lot of the birds are somewhat sinister and dark. The moons are dark, but they are not so sinister. Ann painted these numerous times, in numbers ranging from one into the hundreds. I sometimes think she overdid it a little with the moons. But to really appreciate them one needs to see just one or two on a wall . . . or four or five. These paintings are just black squares—I think 12 or 14 inches square. Near the middle of each painting there is a white circle or a dash with some haze. It is a quick impression of the moon. To make these paintings, Ann actually goes out and paints the moon at night. This may sound romantic or glamorous, but it’s actually not. She always seems really nervous and agitated when she paints the moon. She is afraid the moon is going to go away before she can get it. Of course it’s going away; but it comes back. She also paints them large now—I think 4 feet square. The large moons come off differently—they are less immediate, but softer as well. Some of this softness appears to come from the larger brushstrokes. Ann’s way of scaling up her moon paintings is just to use a bigger brush on a bigger canvas.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Ann produces great paintings, one after another. She can make a painting from nothing. She does not take breaks to reflect on things. Ann manages to walk a line between writing a tell-all book and remaining completely detached. One common thread, which runs through Ann’s subjects, is a lack of specificity. Her subjects are all rather generic. Leaden metaphorical meanings and definitive portraits tend to be avoided. Ann Craven mostly limits herself to animals, moons, trees, stripes, and so forth. Currently, moons and birds are probably the most prevalent.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >The problem with most representational art is that it is so sure of itself. What gives a subject so much importance that it warrants an artistic rendering? Often representational painters completely misunderstand the whole idea of art. They think art is about doing things competently with just a touch of panache. That is indeed one kind of art, but not a very interesting kind. Great representational art looks right through its subject. The subject serves as a vehicle for an expression or idea, not a crutch or publicity gimmick. Ann Craven’s work does not go around to openings with a limp and a cigarette between its lips. Playing games is not an option in her paintings. These paintings just come in and get the job done.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Because Ann Craven sets the bar very high for herself, she usually waits until close to the last minute to start working on something. She is always thinking of the context of her work. Perhaps she need not think so much about this, because often context is hard to control.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Ann seems in a way, unsatisfied with everything she does. That’s why she keeps working away constantly. The birds and the moons are both simple ideas. Is not the challenge to make something as simple and successful as possible? When it comes to painting, it is best to sneak all of the meaning in through the back door. Ann does not burden the viewer with issues or problems. The issues and problems are there, only they are disguised as the moon, a deer, a bird.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Ann takes tried and true ideas and portrays them honestly, as if she herself invented them. When she paints a bird, she does so as if she were the first person to ever paint a bird. She dashes forward with a firm innocence. Her skill as an artist is greatly enhanced by that innocence. She takes everything so seriously—that bothers me, and sometimes I hate her.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Josh Smith is an artist, who currently exhibits at Luhring Augustine Gallery. He lives and works in New York City.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >+</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >This essay appears in the publication:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Ann Craven</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Moon Birds</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >Published by: Knoedler & Company</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);font-family:arial;" >March 13 – April 26, 2008</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-23416497279738084292008-09-17T07:40:00.000-07:002008-09-17T07:52:48.150-07:00RIP David Foster Wallace<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDc5lW6MvQHF25ViQnNhq9vTGa-wYW1cZI-xjboZucfPgnd8Hiq9MtTxNzpQi7AztxdOixC5jivOUuEV-x2IOGeBP-OVI8BgG-nfZE4bPAbp9J3LO-iCBTDKDNv98JIDmQEgZE7u8gC5A/s1600-h/dfw.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDc5lW6MvQHF25ViQnNhq9vTGa-wYW1cZI-xjboZucfPgnd8Hiq9MtTxNzpQi7AztxdOixC5jivOUuEV-x2IOGeBP-OVI8BgG-nfZE4bPAbp9J3LO-iCBTDKDNv98JIDmQEgZE7u8gC5A/s320/dfw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247002406104337618" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">As I spoke about in class today, here are links to solo and group interviews with David Foster Wallace and interviewer Charlie Rose. Both are very good and as relates to our class: address the significance of fun, pleasure, and delight. Below that is the transcript that I mentioned from the Kenyon College Commencement Address.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.charlierose.com/shows/1997/03/27/2/an-interview-with-david-foster-wallace"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">http://www.charlierose.com/shows/1997/03/27/2/an-interview-with-david-foster-wallace</span></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.charlierose.com/shows/1996/5/17/3/a-conversation-with-david-foster-wallace-jonathan-franzen-and-mark-leyner">http://www.charlierose.com/shows/1996/5/17/3/a-conversation-with-david-foster-wallace-jonathan-franzen-and-mark-leyner</a><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Transcription of the 2005 Kenyon Commencement Address - May 21, 2005</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> (If anybody feels like perspiring [cough], I'd advise you to go ahead, because I'm sure going to. In fact I'm gonna [mumbles while pulling up his gown and taking out a handkerchief from his pocket].) Greetings ["parents"?] and congratulations to Kenyon's graduating class of 2005. There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says "Morning, boys. How's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes "What the hell is water?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> This is a standard requirement of US commencement speeches, the deployment of didactic little parable-ish stories. The story ["thing"] turns out to be one of the better, less bullshitty conventions of the genre, but if you're worried that I plan to present myself here as the wise, older fish explaining what water is to you younger fish, please don't be. I am not the wise old fish. The point of the fish story is merely that the most obvious, important realities are often the ones that are hardest to see and talk about. Stated as an English sentence, of course, this is just a banal platitude, but the fact is that in the day to day trenches of adult existence, banal platitudes can have a life or death importance, or so I wish to suggest to you on this dry and lovely morning.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Of course the main requirement of speeches like this is that I'm supposed to talk about your liberal arts education's meaning, to try to explain why the degree you are about to receive has actual human value instead of just a material payoff. So let's talk about the single most pervasive cliché in the commencement speech genre, which is that a liberal arts education is not so much about filling you up with knowledge as it is about quote teaching you how to think. If you're like me as a student, you've never liked hearing this, and you tend to feel a bit insulted by the claim that you needed anybody to teach you how to think, since the fact that you even got admitted to a college this good seems like proof that you already know how to think. But I'm going to posit to you that the liberal arts cliché turns out not to be insulting at all, because the really significant education in thinking that we're supposed to get in a place like this isn't really about the capacity to think, but rather about the choice of what to think about. If your total freedom of choice regarding what to think about seems too obvious to waste time discussing, I'd ask you to think about fish and water, and to bracket for just a few minutes your skepticism about the value of the totally obvious.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Here's another didactic little story. There are these two guys sitting together in a bar in the remote Alaskan wilderness. One of the guys is religious, the other is an atheist, and the two are arguing about the existence of God with that special intensity that comes after about the fourth beer. And the atheist says: "Look, it's not like I don't have actual reasons for not believing in God. It's not like I haven't ever experimented with the whole God and prayer thing. Just last month I got caught away from the camp in that terrible blizzard, and I was totally lost and I couldn't see a thing, and it was fifty below, and so I tried it: I fell to my knees in the snow and cried out 'Oh, God, if there is a God, I'm lost in this blizzard, and I'm gonna die if you don't help me.'" And now, in the bar, the religious guy looks at the atheist all puzzled. "Well then you must believe now," he says, "After all, here you are, alive." The atheist just rolls his eyes. "No, man, all that was was a couple Eskimos happened to come wandering by and showed me the way back to camp."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> It's easy to run this story through kind of a standard liberal arts analysis: the exact same experience can mean two totally different things to two different people, given those people's two different belief templates and two different ways of constructing meaning from experience. Because we prize tolerance and diversity of belief, nowhere in our liberal arts analysis do we want to claim that one guy's interpretation is true and the other guy's is false or bad. Which is fine, except we also never end up talking about just where these individual templates and beliefs come from. Meaning, where they come from INSIDE the two guys. As if a person's most basic orientation toward the world, and the meaning of his experience were somehow just hard-wired, like height or shoe-size; or automatically absorbed from the culture, like language. As if how we construct meaning were not actually a matter of personal, intentional choice. Plus, there's the whole matter of arrogance. The nonreligious guy is so totally certain in his dismissal of the possibility that the passing Eskimos had anything to do with his prayer for help. True, there are plenty of religious people who seem arrogant and certain of their own interpretations, too. They're probably even more repulsive than atheists, at least to most of us. But religious dogmatists' problem is exactly the same as the story's unbeliever: blind certainty, a close-mindedness that amounts to an imprisonment so total that the prisoner doesn't even know he's locked up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> The point here is that I think this is one part of what teaching me how to think is really supposed to mean. To be just a little less arrogant. To have just a little critical awareness about myself and my certainties. Because a huge percentage of the stuff that I tend to be automatically certain of is, it turns out, totally wrong and deluded. I have learned this the hard way, as I predict you graduates will, too.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Here is just one example of the total wrongness of something I tend to be automatically sure of: everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute center of the universe; the realest, most vivid and important person in existence. We rarely think about this sort of natural, basic self-centeredness because it's so socially repulsive. But it's pretty much the same for all of us. It is our default setting, hard-wired into our boards at birth. Think about it: there is no experience you have had that you are not the absolute center of. The world as you experience it is there in front of YOU or behind YOU, to the left or right of YOU, on YOUR TV or YOUR monitor. And so on. Other people's thoughts and feelings have to be communicated to you somehow, but your own are so immediate, urgent, real.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Please don't worry that I'm getting ready to lecture you about compassion or other-directedness or all the so-called virtues. This is not a matter of virtue. It's a matter of my choosing to do the work of somehow altering or getting free of my natural, hard-wired default setting which is to be deeply and literally self-centered and to see and interpret everything through this lens of self. People who can adjust their natural default setting this way are often described as being "well-adjusted", which I suggest to you is not an accidental term.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Given the triumphant academic setting here, an obvious question is how much of this work of adjusting our default setting involves actual knowledge or intellect. This question gets very tricky. Probably the most dangerous thing about an academic education -- least in my own case -- is that it enables my tendency to over-intellectualize stuff, to get lost in abstract argument inside my head, instead of simply paying attention to what is going on right in front of me, paying attention to what is going on inside me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> As I'm sure you guys know by now, it is extremely difficult to stay alert and attentive, instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monologue inside your own head (may be happening right now). Twenty years after my own graduation, I have come gradually to understand that the liberal arts cliché about teaching you how to think is actually shorthand for a much deeper, more serious idea: learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience. Because if you cannot exercise this kind of choice in adult life, you will be totally hosed. Think of the old cliché about quote the mind being an excellent servant but a terrible master.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> This, like many clichés, so lame and unexciting on the surface, actually expresses a great and terrible truth. It is not the least bit coincidental that adults who commit suicide with firearms almost always shoot themselves in: the head. They shoot the terrible master. And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they pull the trigger.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> And I submit that this is what the real, no bullshit value of your liberal arts education is supposed to be about: how to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone day in and day out. That may sound like hyperbole, or abstract nonsense. Let's get concrete. The plain fact is that you graduating seniors do not yet have any clue what "day in day out" really means. There happen to be whole, large parts of adult American life that nobody talks about in commencement speeches. One such part involves boredom, routine, and petty frustration. The parents and older folks here will know all too well what I'm talking about.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> By way of example, let's say it's an average adult day, and you get up in the morning, go to your challenging, white-collar, college-graduate job, and you work hard for eight or ten hours, and at the end of the day you're tired and somewhat stressed and all you want is to go home and have a good supper and maybe unwind for an hour, and then hit the sack early because, of course, you have to get up the next day and do it all again. But then you remember there's no food at home. You haven't had time to shop this week because of your challenging job, and so now after work you have to get in your car and drive to the supermarket. It's the end of the work day and the traffic is apt to be: very bad. So getting to the store takes way longer than it should, and when you finally get there, the supermarket is very crowded, because of course it's the time of day when all the other people with jobs also try to squeeze in some grocery shopping. And the store is hideously lit and infused with soul-killing muzak or corporate pop and it's pretty much the last place you want to be but you can't just get in and quickly out; you have to wander all over the huge, over-lit store's confusing aisles to find the stuff you want and you have to maneuver your junky cart through all these other tired, hurried people with carts (et cetera, et cetera, cutting stuff out because this is a long ceremony) and eventually you get all your supper supplies, except now it turns out there aren't enough check-out lanes open even though it's the end-of-the-day rush. So the checkout line is incredibly long, which is stupid and infuriating. But you can't take your frustration out on the frantic lady working the register, who is overworked at a job whose daily tedium and meaninglessness surpasses the imagination of any of us here at a prestigious college.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> But anyway, you finally get to the checkout line's front, and you pay for your food, and you get told to "Have a nice day" in a voice that is the absolute voice of death. Then you have to take your creepy, flimsy, plastic bags of groceries in your cart with the one crazy wheel that pulls maddeningly to the left, all the way out through the crowded, bumpy, littery parking lot, and then you have to drive all the way home through slow, heavy, SUV-intensive, rush-hour traffic, et cetera et cetera.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Everyone here has done this, of course. But it hasn't yet been part of you graduates' actual life routine, day after week after month after year.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> But it will be. And many more dreary, annoying, seemingly meaningless routines besides. But that is not the point. The point is that petty, frustrating crap like this is exactly where the work of choosing is gonna come in. Because the traffic jams and crowded aisles and long checkout lines give me time to think, and if I don't make a conscious decision about how to think and what to pay attention to, I'm gonna be pissed and miserable every time I have to shop. Because my natural default setting is the certainty that situations like this are really all about me. About MY hungriness and MY fatigue and MY desire to just get home, and it's going to seem for all the world like everybody else is just in my way. And who are all these people in my way? And look at how repulsive most of them are, and how stupid and cow-like and dead-eyed and nonhuman they seem in the checkout line, or at how annoying and rude it is that people are talking loudly on cell phones in the middle of the line. And look at how deeply and personally unfair this is.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Or, of course, if I'm in a more socially conscious liberal arts form of my default setting, I can spend time in the end-of-the-day traffic being disgusted about all the huge, stupid, lane-blocking SUV's and Hummers and V-12 pickup trucks, burning their wasteful, selfish, forty-gallon tanks of gas, and I can dwell on the fact that the patriotic or religious bumper-stickers always seem to be on the biggest, most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest [responding here to loud applause] (this is an example of how NOT to think, though) most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest, most inconsiderate and aggressive drivers. And I can think about how our children's children will despise us for wasting all the future's fuel, and probably screwing up the climate, and how spoiled and stupid and selfish and disgusting we all are, and how modern consumer society just sucks, and so forth and so on.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> You get the idea.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> If I choose to think this way in a store and on the freeway, fine. Lots of us do. Except thinking this way tends to be so easy and automatic that it doesn't have to be a choice. It is my natural default setting. It's the automatic way that I experience the boring, frustrating, crowded parts of adult life when I'm operating on the automatic, unconscious belief that I am the center of the world, and that my immediate needs and feelings are what should determine the world's priorities.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> The thing is that, of course, there are totally different ways to think about these kinds of situations. In this traffic, all these vehicles stopped and idling in my way, it's not impossible that some of these people in SUV's have been in horrible auto accidents in the past, and now find driving so terrifying that their therapist has all but ordered them to get a huge, heavy SUV so they can feel safe enough to drive. Or that the Hummer that just cut me off is maybe being driven by a father whose little child is hurt or sick in the seat next to him, and he's trying to get this kid to the hospital, and he's in a bigger, more legitimate hurry than I am: it is actually I who am in HIS way.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Or I can choose to force myself to consider the likelihood that everyone else in the supermarket's checkout line is just as bored and frustrated as I am, and that some of these people probably have harder, more tedious and painful lives than I do.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Again, please don't think that I'm giving you moral advice, or that I'm saying you are supposed to think this way, or that anyone expects you to just automatically do it. Because it's hard. It takes will and effort, and if you are like me, some days you won't be able to do it, or you just flat out won't want to.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> But most days, if you're aware enough to give yourself a choice, you can choose to look differently at this fat, dead-eyed, over-made-up lady who just screamed at her kid in the checkout line. Maybe she's not usually like this. Maybe she's been up three straight nights holding the hand of a husband who is dying of bone cancer. Or maybe this very lady is the low-wage clerk at the motor vehicle department, who just yesterday helped your spouse resolve a horrific, infuriating, red-tape problem through some small act of bureaucratic kindness. Of course, none of this is likely, but it's also not impossible. It just depends what you what to consider. If you're automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won't consider possibilities that aren't annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Not that that mystical stuff is necessarily true. The only thing that's capital-T True is that you get to decide how you're gonna try to see it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> This, I submit, is the freedom of a real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn't. You get to decide what to worship.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Because here's something else that's weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship -- be it JC or Allah, bet it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles -- is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful, it's that they're unconscious. They are default settings.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world of wanting and achieving and [unintelligible -- sounds like "displayal"]. The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> I know that this stuff probably doesn't sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational the way a commencement speech is supposed to sound. What it is, as far as I can see, is the capital-T Truth, with a whole lot of rhetorical niceties stripped away. You are, of course, free to think of it whatever you wish. But please don't just dismiss it as just some finger-wagging Dr. Laura sermon. None of this stuff is really about morality or religion or dogma or big fancy questions of life after death.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> The capital-T Truth is about life BEFORE death.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> "This is water."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> "This is water."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> It is unimaginably hard to do this, to stay conscious and alive in the adult world day in and day out. Which means yet another grand cliché turns out to be true: your education really IS the job of a lifetime. And it commences: now.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> I wish you way more than luck.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-41981361950702429722008-09-07T12:07:00.000-07:002008-09-07T12:10:42.984-07:00Show about hope and beauty<a href="http://http://vegaestatespresents.com/news.html">http://vegaestatespresents.com/news.html</a><br /><br />check out this one-night event/opening at Vega Estates, 723 W 16th Street<br /> Chicago, Il 60616.<br /><p class="style31">Saturday, September 13th, 7-10pm</p> <p>"Tomorrow"</p> <p>New painting, sculpture, and video by <strong>Marco Kane Braunschweiler</strong>, <strong>Derek Chan</strong>, <strong>Paul Cowan</strong>, <strong>Martine Syms</strong>, and <strong>Maura Thompson</strong>, who explore hope and beauty in relation to our current surroundings.</p><p>Derek Chan received his MFA from UIC about 2 years ago, and is a really great painter whose work has influenced of grafitti and abstraction.</p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-35720423899457651132008-09-02T09:09:00.000-07:002008-09-02T09:15:15.956-07:00quick reading<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2U1f8FqewLJCdxRXpr1RD_9e5o2RyvxVcRGFoTpJuo3Jt2SqgOnd4A7XbCCB1KplEAuUYOy7YFeRF0bdNSM9K0RuVxGgSzKhg5_IT7lIbDf2sxWsTbSbTR14ccLFe_xO_wj7ycv49KI/s1600-h/24563508-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2U1f8FqewLJCdxRXpr1RD_9e5o2RyvxVcRGFoTpJuo3Jt2SqgOnd4A7XbCCB1KplEAuUYOy7YFeRF0bdNSM9K0RuVxGgSzKhg5_IT7lIbDf2sxWsTbSbTR14ccLFe_xO_wj7ycv49KI/s400/24563508-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241458041250065698" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">please read these quick links by tomorrow. "Jeffersonian Koons": a Jerry Saltz review of Jeff Koons' sculpture <span style="font-style: italic;">Puppy</span> when it was installed at Rockefeller Center in New York, and the Wikipedia entry for the word "kitsch". Please also start considering your initial paintings and the imagery/references that you will utilize.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.artnet.com/magazine/FEATURES/saltz/saltz6-21-00.asp">http://www.artnet.com/magazine/FEATURES/saltz/saltz6-21-00.asp</a><br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsch">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsch</a><br /><br /><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2917116043742333548.post-81103211271549974702008-07-30T12:26:00.000-07:002008-08-22T14:18:21.447-07:00Joy, Play, Sentiment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oV2nPyK3jcRdv8FE1I5QArVRYdjtTq38ePgHsX5m7qlX-j4_hqWSSItOUGDr8ywT04gKUHGFR8786gCyFLgDB9eYoD_nGHA5T5Z6e7qIBooDzqJ-_V3ZiQlQkzojkXWnGjbiwuV-m1Q/s1600-h/hose8.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oV2nPyK3jcRdv8FE1I5QArVRYdjtTq38ePgHsX5m7qlX-j4_hqWSSItOUGDr8ywT04gKUHGFR8786gCyFLgDB9eYoD_nGHA5T5Z6e7qIBooDzqJ-_V3ZiQlQkzojkXWnGjbiwuV-m1Q/s400/hose8.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236338821227489090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Welcome to our course blog. In this course we will assess the significance of joy, play, and sentiment; investigate where these attributes may dovetail with art and painting practices; and grapple with the reasons that this may be difficult.<br />This blog replaces the tradition syllabus. The answer to all project and schedule questions may be found here, as well as PDFs of all required readings.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">AD332 / Topics in Painting: The Joy of Painting: Examining Happiness, Delight, Sweetness, Levity and Optimism in Painting Practice</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Monday / Wednesday 9:00-11:40<br />Professor Pamela Fraser<br />Office Hours: by appointment<br />E-mail: pfraser@uic.edu<br /><br />Perhaps it is attributable to the impact of the Romantic and Critical traditions upon contemporary art practices that the above qualities often imply the impossibly saccharine and corny when connected to art practices including painting. A sincerely happy, joyful or even optimistic sensibility is difficult to uphold in this domain. The supposedly erased distinction between high and low art can still be seen clearly when considering the very possibility of sunny, joyful art. Why are these qualities and approaches so maligned in art culture yet so expected, hoped for, or applauded in everyday life and in other media? </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Is optimism possible without being seen as kitsch or naive? </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Is this distrust attributable to gender and class biases? (By the way, what is the derivation of the notion of expressing one’s individual angst in art come from?) What does our distrust tell us about joy, art, ourselves, or about contemporary discourse? Can we imagine and create an intelligent joyful art?<br /><br />Students enrolled in this course will consider the meaning and potential of joy and related topics as relates to historical and contemporary painting, and in paintings that they produce. This is a study of the meaning and application of joy as a feeling, an activity, an experience, and/or a theme in painting. This studio course will include slide lectures, related readings, and field trips. Readings will look at related topics such as play, pleasure, beauty, taste, sentiment and kitsch.<br /><br />While not attempting an exhaustive examination into the definition of “joy”, we will discuss the cultural-specificity or universality of joy, the potential problems of joy in art, as well as the potential usefulness. We need not negate the criticality and challenging aspects of contemporary art in order to allow the option of joy in art. Alongside a tradition that values the radical, subversive, novel (read: individuation), we may find ritual social value in the sentimental, affirmations of shared experience (read: community).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Texts:</span><br />• Alexander Alberro, “Beauty Knows No Pain,” <span style="font-style: italic;">Art Journal</span>, The College Art Association, 2004<br />• Pat Kane, selection from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Play Ethic: A Manifesto for a Different Way of Living</span>, Pan MacMillan Ltd., 2005<br />• Deborah Knight, “Why We Enjoy Condemning Sentimentality: A Meta-Aesthetic Perspective,” <span style="font-style: italic;">CAA Journal of Art History</span>, 1999<br />• Carl Wilson, <span style="font-style: italic;">Let’s Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste (33 1/3)</span>, Continuum International Publishing Group, 2007<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Projects:</span><br />I will go over these to explain in detail.<br /><br />Project 1: Joy as Activity<br />Exploring play, physicality, and experimentation in painting<br />Project 2: Joy as Subject<br />Attempting portrayal of joy while considering (avoiding or embracing) formulas<br />Project 3: Joy as Experience<br />Methodology and subject are equivalents<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Schedule</span>:<br /><br />Week One___________________________________________________________<br />August 25th Introduction<br /> Obtain and read <span style="font-style: italic;">Let’s Talk About Love</span> by Sept. 8<br /> Get materials by Sept. 8<br />August 27 Film Screening: Jeff Koons<br /><br />Week One___________________________________________________________<br />September 1 Labor Day, no class<br />September 3 field trip: MCA<br /><br />Week Three___________________________________________________________<br />September 8 Hour 1: discuss Let’s Talk About Love<br /> Hour 2: Stretch and prime canvas<br /> Discuss and begin Project 1<br />September 10 Work Day<br /><br />Week Four___________________________________________________________<br />September 15 Hour 1: Lecture<br /> Hour 2: Work Day<br /><br />September 17 Work Day<br /><br />Week Five___________________________________________________________<br />September 22 Critique<br />September 24 Discuss and begin Project 2<br /> Read <span style="font-style: italic;">The Play Ethic </span>selection by Sept. 29<br /><br />Week Six___________________________________________________________<br />September 29 Hour 1: Discussion of essay<br /> Hour 2: Work Day<br />October 1 Work Day<br /> Read “Why We Enjoy Condemning Sentimentality”<br />by Oct. 6<br /><br />Week Seven___________________________________________________________<br />October 6 Hour 1: Discussion of essay<br /> Hour 2: Work Day<br />October 8 Work Day<br /><br />Week Eight___________________________________________________________<br />October 13 Crit<br /> Continue Project 2 / Part 2<br />October 15 Work Day<br /><br />Week Nine___________________________________________________________<br />October 20 Hour 1: Lecture<br /> Hour 2: Work Day<br />October 22 Work Day<br /> Read “”Beauty Knows No Pain” by Oct. 27<br />Week Ten__________________________________________________________<br />October 27 Hour 1: Discussion of essay<br /> Hour 2: Work Day<br />October 29 Work Day<br /><br />Week Eleven___________________________________________________________<br />November 3 Critique<br />November 5 Discuss and begin Project 3<br /><br />Week Twelve___________________________________________________________<br />November 10 Hour 1: Lecture<br /> Hour 2: Work Day<br />November 12 Work Day<br /><br />Week Thirteen__________________________________________________________<br />November 17 Work Day<br />November 19 Critique<br /> Continue Project 3 / Part 2<br /><br />Week Fourteen__________________________________________________________<br />November 2 Work Day<br />November 26 Work Day<br /><br />Week Fifteen___________________________________________________________<br />December 1 Work Day<br />December 3 Final Critique<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Materials: </span><br />Lab fees will cover canvas, basic oil and acrylic paint colors. You may wish to supplement your palette as the course develops.<br />I will go over the list of items below to explain in detail.<br /><br />Required:<br />Hard Plastic Storage Cups<br />Variety of media-appropriate Brushes<br />Gesso Brush<br />Acrylic Gels, Retarder for acrylic; Oil Mediums for oils<br />Glass jars with lids for oils<br />Plastic or paper cups for acrylics<br />Arrow T-50 staples (1/4” or 3/8”)<br />Rags (cotton T-shirts best)<br /><br /><br />Toolkit Recommended with following (you will need this stuff):<br />Pushpins<br />nails and/or screws<br />Scissors or Mat Knife<br />Screwdriver and Pliers<br />Canvas Pliers<br />Hammer<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">On Grading:</span><br />Please keep the following School of Art and Design guidelines in mind.<br /><br />A=outstanding accomplishment, innovative thinking, strong participation, full attendance, excellent progress<br />B-above-average accomplishment, solid participation, full attendance, good progress<br />C=accomplished all assignments, average participation, full attendance, little progress<br />D= lack of completion or accomplishment in assignments, disinterested participation<br />F=failure to complete basic course requirements and/or attendance<br /><br />Your final grade will be based on the following percentages for coursework, with participation a part of the project grade.<br /><br />Projects 50%<br />Participation 50%<br /><br />The success of each project is assessed by the student’s level of engagement and experimentation; the incorporation of knowledge gained from course material; and high level of craftsmanship. Successful participation means to be alert and engaged, to demonstrate understanding of course material and to contribute to class discussion.<br /><br />Late work is not accepted; projects not received on time will receive an "F". If you are going to miss class on the due date of an assignment, you must e-mail me to make arrangements to get the assignment to me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">On Attendance:</span><br />Good attendance is presumed and not rewarded or reflected in the final grade calculation. After three unexcused absences, one’s grade will drop one letter grade. After five absences-excused or unexcused-one may fail the course. Three times late, leaving early or arriving unprepared will equal one absence. Absence from class is not an excuse for missing handouts or assignments, or not handing in work. In the event of absence, check the blog to see what you have missed.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Misc:<br /></span>• Please see me if you have special needs.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">• Turn CELL PHONES <span style="font-style: italic;">OFF</span> during class.<br />• Maintain clean work area, and clean up after yourself.<br />• Follow posted and announced procedures with solvents.<br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0