Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Week 11-Superflat
Ironically, I feel like I have the least to say about Superflat art despite the fact that, aesthetically, it appeals to me more than any other genre we've covered in class this semester.
Superflat is a movement started by Japanese artist Takashi Murakami. It takes its primary inspirations from animation, comics, cartoons and video games; basically, pop art that utilizes flat, 2 dimensional color schemes.
From what I've read and the pieces I've seen, Superflat seems to be more about a specific visual presentation than about subject matter. Murakami intends for much of his work to provide commentary on consumerism, and generates work specifically for commercial use (Louis Vuitton handbags being an example). Other artists work within the style to explore issues of sexuality or personal identity.
Superflat art uses bold colors, linework, graphic design elements and comic book/animation inspired character design. It frequently references popular culture. I used these basic tenants as a launching point when banging out a few self portraits, trying to emphasize the same characteristics. The first is a parody of pop culture icon "Bob's Big Boy", the second was my attempt at an animated cartoon character representation, the third was trying to make something that appears as flat as paper, and for the last I went for the brightest, most obnoxious color palette I could imagine in sort of an 80's album cover homage.
Superflat is a movement started by Japanese artist Takashi Murakami. It takes its primary inspirations from animation, comics, cartoons and video games; basically, pop art that utilizes flat, 2 dimensional color schemes.
From what I've read and the pieces I've seen, Superflat seems to be more about a specific visual presentation than about subject matter. Murakami intends for much of his work to provide commentary on consumerism, and generates work specifically for commercial use (Louis Vuitton handbags being an example). Other artists work within the style to explore issues of sexuality or personal identity.
Superflat art uses bold colors, linework, graphic design elements and comic book/animation inspired character design. It frequently references popular culture. I used these basic tenants as a launching point when banging out a few self portraits, trying to emphasize the same characteristics. The first is a parody of pop culture icon "Bob's Big Boy", the second was my attempt at an animated cartoon character representation, the third was trying to make something that appears as flat as paper, and for the last I went for the brightest, most obnoxious color palette I could imagine in sort of an 80's album cover homage.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Week 10-Relational Aesthetics
In relational aesthetics, the aim is not to create an object, but to facilitate a shared experience between a group of people. The "artwork" is the conduit to a social event; it is designed to create interactions.
Really, it's hard to separate "relational aesthetics" from "life" as the experiences initiated by the artist are typically mundane things: eating, talking, reading, walking around. There may be a deeper intention behind these interactions, as often the behavior being conducted is meant to act as a metaphor for social interplay on a grander (perhaps global) scale. That said, whatever statement the artist is making by prompting people to sit around and drink coffee, at the end of the day the result is just a bunch of people sitting on their asses doing the same inane shit they'd be doing anyway. To experience the "art" one must be open to seriously contemplating the prompted action, otherwise it is indistinguishable from everyday life.
While a lot of this stuff struck me as kind of nebulous and ethereal (Everything is art! By reading this blog, you're experiencing art right now!) there was one piece I came across that I did find clever and of surprising depth. Felix Gonzalez-Torres' "Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)" consists of 175lbs of candy acting as a stand-in for the 175lb frame of the artist's HIV infected partner. Viewers are invited to help themselves to the candy, but by doing so they are both literally destroying the work, and symbolically representing the disease that is chipping away at its host body. I appreciate the way this work places a moral dilemma upon the act of taking a free piece of candy, an emotional weight you don't encounter performing the same action on your way out the door of an Applebee's.
For my book entry, I bought some of those "party poppers" devices where you pull the string, there's a loud "bang" and confetti is shot everywhere to the delight of all but the housekeeping staff:
I had planned on rigging my book so that when opened to a particular page a sign read "Happy New Year!" and the popper would...pop. Just like that, surprise! Instant New Year party! We could all share in the delight of this unexpected, impromptu holiday gathering! Thinking about it a little bit, I decided that maybe shooting a projectile into an unsuspecting person's face would be uncool/unsafe.
Instead, I opted to insert a Whoopee Cushion between the pages, so that when any pressure was placed upon the book it would emit (and there's no classy way to say this) an eruptive flatulence sound. Instead of communal holiday revelry, we can instead share the tittering laughter that accompanies some unsuspecting victim's surprise humiliation.
Really, it's hard to separate "relational aesthetics" from "life" as the experiences initiated by the artist are typically mundane things: eating, talking, reading, walking around. There may be a deeper intention behind these interactions, as often the behavior being conducted is meant to act as a metaphor for social interplay on a grander (perhaps global) scale. That said, whatever statement the artist is making by prompting people to sit around and drink coffee, at the end of the day the result is just a bunch of people sitting on their asses doing the same inane shit they'd be doing anyway. To experience the "art" one must be open to seriously contemplating the prompted action, otherwise it is indistinguishable from everyday life.
While a lot of this stuff struck me as kind of nebulous and ethereal (Everything is art! By reading this blog, you're experiencing art right now!) there was one piece I came across that I did find clever and of surprising depth. Felix Gonzalez-Torres' "Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)" consists of 175lbs of candy acting as a stand-in for the 175lb frame of the artist's HIV infected partner. Viewers are invited to help themselves to the candy, but by doing so they are both literally destroying the work, and symbolically representing the disease that is chipping away at its host body. I appreciate the way this work places a moral dilemma upon the act of taking a free piece of candy, an emotional weight you don't encounter performing the same action on your way out the door of an Applebee's.
For my book entry, I bought some of those "party poppers" devices where you pull the string, there's a loud "bang" and confetti is shot everywhere to the delight of all but the housekeeping staff:
I had planned on rigging my book so that when opened to a particular page a sign read "Happy New Year!" and the popper would...pop. Just like that, surprise! Instant New Year party! We could all share in the delight of this unexpected, impromptu holiday gathering! Thinking about it a little bit, I decided that maybe shooting a projectile into an unsuspecting person's face would be uncool/unsafe.
Instead, I opted to insert a Whoopee Cushion between the pages, so that when any pressure was placed upon the book it would emit (and there's no classy way to say this) an eruptive flatulence sound. Instead of communal holiday revelry, we can instead share the tittering laughter that accompanies some unsuspecting victim's surprise humiliation.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Week 9-Site-Specific Art
This one is kind of a no-brainer: Site-specific art is a work that was designed specifically for, and can only function in, a particular space.
Site-specific art was designed to combat the trend towards work being treated as a commodity, bought and sold in galleries. Site-specific artists don't want their work to be something you can pick off of a wall and place in your living room, like an end table from Ikea. They believe art should be tailor made for the space it will occupy. It can't be transported. It isn't flexible. It's not multipurpose.
Last semester I took Aesthetics (AVT 307). In that class we read "Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees", sort of a long-form interview/biography of artist Robert Irwin. Irwin is one of the artists credited with popularizing site-specific art. He is meticulous about designing his pieces for their intended place of residence, often spending days refining the most minute of details. For one piece he agonized over achieving a perfect match between the cast shadow of a sculpture and the paint on the wall behind it. Eventually, he was able to perfectly match both colors so that the sculpture created no visible shadow and seemed to eerily float at an indiscernible depth. He does not allow his work to be photographed, as he believes it is only possible to truly experience the piece by sharing space with it. The work isn't the materials, or a tangible object. If you see an Irwin sculpture, the physical object is not the artwork he is creating. The experience is the art. The sculpture is simply the delivery system necessary to convey the work.
Site-specific art was designed to combat the trend towards work being treated as a commodity, bought and sold in galleries. Site-specific artists don't want their work to be something you can pick off of a wall and place in your living room, like an end table from Ikea. They believe art should be tailor made for the space it will occupy. It can't be transported. It isn't flexible. It's not multipurpose.
Last semester I took Aesthetics (AVT 307). In that class we read "Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees", sort of a long-form interview/biography of artist Robert Irwin. Irwin is one of the artists credited with popularizing site-specific art. He is meticulous about designing his pieces for their intended place of residence, often spending days refining the most minute of details. For one piece he agonized over achieving a perfect match between the cast shadow of a sculpture and the paint on the wall behind it. Eventually, he was able to perfectly match both colors so that the sculpture created no visible shadow and seemed to eerily float at an indiscernible depth. He does not allow his work to be photographed, as he believes it is only possible to truly experience the piece by sharing space with it. The work isn't the materials, or a tangible object. If you see an Irwin sculpture, the physical object is not the artwork he is creating. The experience is the art. The sculpture is simply the delivery system necessary to convey the work.
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