Saturday, 25 April 2009

opening night...


I stole this image from the college website fine arty section. Look how serious she looks looking at that chilli pepper hmm question question question thats really interesting i'm really interesting in that it's aesthetically stimulating to me. I'm thinking about how i can sneak my piece in to the exhibition, on opening night, people could be interacting with my pieces and not even know it.

Thinking about the folk that go to these things, how they interact with each other, standing around in groups having intelligent conversations, wandering, staring, thinking,pondering. You come for the art, or do you really? Did the free wine and food interest you in the slightest? Or what about the opportunity to just be seen here? How cultured...

Theres something interesting about the wine you get at opening nights. I've been watching how people act and behave in these situations, the wine glass is like a prop from social interaction, something to hold, like a cigarette, it is comforting to have you carry it with you and it is in integral part of the night but it isn't something you pay attention to or look at, something insignificant that really does have an essential purpose.

Perhaps I could place my pieces at the bottom of the wine glass? You won't bloody notice.

Monday, 20 April 2009

what the flux?

Fluxus is a Post Dada art movement that flourished in New York and Germany in the 1950s and 60s. Fluxus emphasised the concept of anti-art and mocks the seriousness of modern art. Fluxus artists used their minimal performances to question the boundaries between art and the everyday. Fluxus art encouraged a “do it yourself” aesthetic and was often presented in "events", which consisted of instructions. These events encouraged an audience interaction which reflected Duchamp’s notion regarding the viewer being integral to the art work.



Photograph of Hi Red Center performing their Street Cleaning Event,
taken June, 1966 at Grand Army Plaza (58th Street and 5th Avenue), New York City.
Photograph by George Maciunas, 1966.



“The Fluxus artistic philosophy can be expressed as a synthesis of four key factors that define the majority of Fluxus work:
1. Fluxus is an attitude. It is not a movement or a style.
2. Fluxus is intermedia. Fluxus creators like to see what happens when different media intersect. They use found and everyday objects, sounds, images, and texts to create new combinations of objects, sounds, images, and texts.
3. Fluxus works are simple. The art is small, the texts are short, and the performances are brief.
4. Fluxus is fun. Humour has always been an important element in Fluxus.”

So why am I interesting in this? Was Fluxus just a bunch of people who didn’t know how to make real art so they made art against art? It was suggested to me to look at Fluxus in regards to how I sneak my way into the exhibition. Because Fluxus artists were annoying. They were stubborn. They refused to conform to the conventions of typical art presentation. A lot of Fluxus artists didn’t even document their work, they just happened, and only exist in the memories of others. But what about my pieces? Ok, so they exist outside. I haven’t given maps, I haven’t made clues, I haven’t revealed the locations to anyone, how do we even know they are there? Maybe my work is a myth? Maybe I’ve just been sat on my arse for the past 4 months pretending to be doing stuff.
Nah i’m messing with you they are really there, you just have to look harder. Or do you? Nah haha sorry what a shit entry. xx

Friday, 10 April 2009

let's dance

ba da bee ba boo

Thursday, 9 April 2009

i don't know what i want but i know i want it now

I am thinking about this exhibition business a lot recently. As part of the curatorial gang, it has been really interesting to look at everyone else’s work and consider how we’re going to present it. We’ve been categorizing everyone conceptually; this has proven to be really difficult because we’re such varied group with a massive range of ideas and motives, so the categories are really loose just to think whose work would fit together.

Although a key concept in my work is the rejection of the gallery space and the interaction with an unknown audience, I do feel like I would like to be involved in dNA in my own little way. But how can I present the unpresentable? I’ve been looking at the work of Martin Creed recently, his work is so funny, he basically mocks gallery traditions, his work is concerned with the line between something and nothing. Really just questioning what exactly an art piece can consist of, he subtley intervenes with the gallery space...

Work No. 121: A crumpled ball of paper in every room in a house
1995
A4 paper
Installation at the Swiss Institute, New York

Work No. 270: The Lights Off
2001

Ok, so I need to consider what would be appropriate to put in the show and how I can present it so that it retains and enforces my ideas. Something very subtle that has very little presence in the show, a slight intervention, an implication that somewhere, out there, I do exist.
..

Wednesday, 8 April 2009

tiny treasures


This is the work of Australian artist Poppy Van Oord - Grainger, she paints tiny pieces on pavements that respond to the surroundings. These beautiful pieces are so tiny they could easily be missed, but as people often walk with their heads down it might just catch the glimpse of a random passerby. It is interesting to consider ownership, obviously they can’t be bought, and they are rejecting the gallery and high art, driven by the notion of “art for all”, for anyone who cares to notice. Could it be a gift? Who for? And do they even want it?

sticky situations

Last night marked the start of something special. Well, maybe not so special, but yes it did mark the beginning of my invasion, after a bottle of wine armed with epoxy glue, a spreader and a handful of tiles I began my mission. Ok, so it wasn’t too successful, I had adhesive issues which basically resulted in me with sticky fingers, I’m going to look into better ways of fixing them, but it made me realise just how fun this is going to be.

I’ve been traipsing around old Leeds for a couple of weeks and marking out my locations, I’m definitely more inclined to place them in the nooks and crannies of the city, corners, posts and signs, where they will exist, in plain sight. It is so exciting to consider just who will see them and what their response is going to be. Will I ever know if they’ve been seen? Probably not. Do I want to confuse people? Probably yes. Well not confuse, perhaps just, for a brief moment someone passing by will spot my piece, and perhaps think about it, maybe for a second, maybe not at all. I think this is what I find most interesting about doing this piece. I love the enigma about the whole thing.

In consideration to my locations, I’m developing on an idea which has been driving my pinhole antics, based on the quote by Georges Perec, “What Happens When Nothing Happens?” I am really interested in art and the everyday, the idea of banality, moments of nothingness and I thought about developing this to..."Where Do You Look When You're Not Really Looking At Anything”. Ok its not as snappy but yes, the idea of a time when you’re wandering around in a bit of a daze, not really looking at anything, where do you look, what do you see, what do you notice etc.

I like to think my work would catch the eye of a wanderer. I always return to the city when looking for inspiration, watching the people go by, seeing what they do, how they interact with each other. Strangers are so fascinating, people you don’t know and will probably never see again, for a moment they enter your life and then they are gone. Ephemeral moments. I’d like to think I’m leaving something for these people, for people I don’t know, maybe they will see them, maybe they won’t. Who knows?