Ivan Lozano and Eileen Maxson Eileen Maxson is an artist from Houston who works mostly with video and loves foursquare. She loves foursquare so much that she had a special foursquare ball, a tigerskin print beauty, in her car for over a year. You might also know her as the recipient of the inaugural edition of the Arthouse Texas Prize, back in 2005. If your name is Dawolu Jabari Anderson, Justin Boyd, Margarita Cabrera, Bill Davenport or Katrina Moorhead, you know her as one fifth of the jury for the second edition of the Arthouse Texas Prize.
Her videos are tone poems of awkward, gushing and sometimes embarrassing love for television. They straddle a line between a deep fascination with the transformative, almost mystical powers of “being on TV” and the complete panic and anxiety that comes when the camera is on.
I caught up with Eileen via Gmail chat to ask her about YouTube, social networking sites, blogs, copyright issues, her own work and the Arthouse Texas Prize.
Ivan Lozano: You and I first met at Cinematexas in 2004, when your video DISED 2604: Prof. Catherine Poplar (2004) played in the International Competition. Do you see a big difference between "film festival Eileen" and "art gallery Eileen"?
Eileen Maxson: That's a really interesting question. The short answer is yes. I think they ask different things of you and of the work you make. I'm realizing this is probably a really horrible format for me to do an interview! I usually re-write emails a million times, even unimportant ones. This is a nightmare! I mean fun, but horrifying. I'm also a big fan of re-recording voice mails.
IL: Let's talk about winning the inaugural edition of the Texas Prize. Did receiving such a huge, unrestricted sum of money for "art gallery Eileen" change or make the rift between film festival and gallery even larger?
EM: More than anything I think I won that prize on the strength of the single-channel works, which would be the works that screened at (great) festivals like Cinematexas. Or, for the most part, the videos that appear in the installations will screen by themselves at festivals. I'm always happy about that. I do think that there is a frustration there though— between the gallery and the festival/screening space. I'm always telling my sculptor friends they need to get with the program and make some media. Then they fire back about the exquisiteness of the object. They don’t really say exquisite, I’m making that up.
IL: Both you and I have strong links with screening spaces and festivals. You worked with the amazing Aurora Picture Show in Houston. Do you think sometimes media producers feel a bit intimidated by the screening space? By how that specific way of presenting work demands people to pay attention, while in a gallery, people can walk by the screen after a few seconds if they don’t think they’re into it?
EM: Oh god, I hope not. Places like Aurora are, in my opinion, the most ideal spaces for presenting film and video works. I don't buy that people don't want to pay attention. People watch TV, they watch Hollywood movies. Sometimes it takes some patience to de-program yourself. On the other hand, some gallery video artists are so self-indulgent that I don't even want to sit down and watch their videos, and I have a pretty high tolerance for challenging videos.
IL: I think part of that blame falls on curators sometimes. Not having benches/seats, or the proper info on the plaque (like running time!). It's a weird time for moving image art; it is still trying to find where it fits.
EM: Well, I think part of what is trying to be figured out is where it fits into the market. That's a driving force.
IL: The market is an issue. Video is difficult to sell! Especially now that it's digital, ephemeral, not an actual object, not even a tape! I tend to think the Internet will make a huge impact on how art in general is appreciated. But the art world is still really intimidated by it. How do you feel about this? Obviously, you want to be able to survive as an artist, but do you feel market concerns affect your art practice??
EM: Artists should be able to support themselves, but I absolutely do not believe in editioning video art. When you make something reproducible, an "object," you strip it of its political and social power. You know, art for the few or art for the masses. I would be lying though if I said that I’m totally unaware of the market. At this point you can’t avoid the conversation. But do I think about whether I’ll be able to sell something when I’m problem solving a piece? No. Considering my “sales” history, it’s more the opposite..
IL: The audience is an important part of your "project" then?
EM: I'm always concerned about the audience. I'm not the kind of person who can shut themselves in their studio. I didn't even have a studio until last year. Not that I pretend that the masses are all that interested in what I'm doing.
IL: The issue of copyrights comes up fairly often with single-channel pieces, more often than with installations, performances or object. Your single-channel piece Cinderella+++ (2002) is a part of a DVD compilation produced by Illegal Art. They promote the lifting of copyright restrictions for art and stand against editioning.
EM: Yeah, that’s a great project that StayFree! Magazine put together. There’s a lot of borrowing going on in all of my work. Post-it notes, strip centers, news broadcasts… it’s difficult to say what isn’t copyrighted at this point.
EM: Yes, I have some videos up. I put up the Disney shorts, and then a couple of experiments I've been working on.
IL: It definitely kills a lot of the preciousness of "being an artist."
EM: Yeah, there are things about it that are difficult. Like how do you sift through all the bad jock stunts or keep from getting too distracted by cute kittens (love those)? On the one hand the lack of cultural "editors" of content is what is interesting about it, but on the other hand it makes it difficult to put out something delicate. Or to find really interesting, sophisticated works.
IL: There are some blogs I've been looking at lately that link to YouTube or Google videos. Some bloggers are taking it on themselves to become cultural “editors” of the Internet. Those are neat. Also, pocasts are becoming sort of hip.
IL: I LOVE UBU! Jonas Mekas has podcasts.Expanded Cinema is great. You can get some really obscure experimental film/video work on those…
EM: Yeah, I saw that Jonas Mekas was putting up a new video on his website everyday this year. That was really inspiring.
IL: I think that many older artists feel that it cheapens their work to have it widely available, but forget that people in the suburbs or not in NYC/SF/LA/Chicago never get to see any of this work. Visibility is super important for video! Especially since it isn't an “object.”
EM: Yeah, but back to Aurora and screening spaces, I think there's also something sad about us all alone in our houses, hunched over our laptops watching web videos. I think it’s smart and incredibly inspiring that Jonas Mekas, granddaddy of the experimental scene, is posting online videos. BUT there’s a huge difference between seeing work online that was meant to be seen on 16mm, or on a television, or in an installation. I love Ben Coonley’s video Valentine for Perfect Strangers , because it was made specifically for YouTube in form AND content. That makes sense to me. Another thing that I think about though are the implications of posting underground works on the Internet. The power of distribution, and circumventing repressive systems like Hollywood is exciting, but what does that mean for the underground? If the Internet is a level playing field (someone can see my page as easily as MGM’s) then what does that mean? Have you ever read The Anti-100 Years of Cinema Manifesto that Mekas wrote? One of the aspects of the microcinema movement that was/is really important to me is the emphasis on (the intersection of) community, shared experience and art.
IL:A lot of your work is about communication, community (or looking for it!), mostly through TV, and the anxiety of becoming THE MEDIA. Your characters in the performance-based videos are constantly getting screwed by the technology behind the medium. It's like a constant missed connection.
EM: Yes, definitely like a missed connection.
IL: They are very melancholy. And funny.
EM: Humor in the work is really important. All the art that I really love is, in some way, humorous. It keeps you coming back. I can watch something horribly painful over and over again if it has a sense of humor. You know?
IL: The thing that stays with me the longest is the melancholy part, learning that some people just aren't great on camera, no matter how badly they might want it or feel they need it. It's almost the opposite of the old adage about video being inherently narcissistic but at the same time, it still holds, because you're in them.
EM: The narcissism question is also an important one that I've thought about a lot. One of my friends showed Tape 5925: Amy Goodrow (2002) in a class he was teaching and showed me the students’ reports. One of them said something about seeing an average or below average looking girl on the tape (ouch!). But we had a good (sort of painful) laugh about it, because if I was a guy that wouldn't even come up. No one ever comments on male artists that way unless they're super attractive. But yes, that's a part of the work, the desire for celebrity, for approval, for acceptance by the media and the emotional and psychic pain that comes from the rejection from that system.
IL: Also, the lack of glamour is part of the work. You're playing parts. None of the women you portray are you. You dress up, you mess you hair up, you make faces, etc.
EM: Oh yeah, definitely!
IL: It's a familiar technique in feminist video/performance: trying to get as far away from "sex appeal" or something. Forcing people to concentrate on the person, no? And forcing people to confront the double standard you just mentioned.
EM: Yes and no, I think. They're really controlled. My image is meticulously controlled in all of those works.
IL: Do you consider your work feminist?
EM: I would say it's more about creating a tension in the viewer between the characters not meeting an expectation of beauty but having a strange, visually seductive image. I don't know if the work is feminist but I consider myself a feminist. All of the videos are critical of gender roles. That's a difficult thing to pin down these days, right?
IL: Totally. Which brings me to this: Ed Halter called you "the transmedia Cindy Sherman of the MySpace generation" in the Village Voice. How do you feel about this comparison? Is Cindy Sherman an influence to you?
EM: Feminist art history, riot grrrl, etc. are all very important to me. My background is in photography, and I certainly looked at Cindy Sherman and other feminist artists. She had to get in there somewhere. Aside from the performance aspects, the photographs she made were also sort of fake artifacts. Film stills from movies that didn't exist. I was doing something similar, thinking about the videos as artifacts… bits of unloved video lost on an unmarked VHS tape. A lot of them start with video noise, etc. But yeah, I like the quote. Ed made me sound more exciting!
IL: You ARE exciting! I have issues with this quotation because to me your work harkens to maybe the late 90s, definitely before MySpace. Do you feel part of the "MySpace generation"?
EM: Well, if I say no that does mean I'm old?
IL: Definitely not! You and I were born the same year, we're sort of right at the edge of the "MySpace generation," don't you think? We had Friendster pages before MySpace.
EM: I will say that I resisted getting a MySpace until this year. I just didn't want to. I'm really interested in online life, but I try to avoid getting absorbed in it. I get distracted easily enough.
The underbelly of MySpace and the Internet is particularly interesting to me. Like the people who continue to post to a murdered friend’s page or how real life violence is originating there, gangs, etc. Yes, I'm of the Friendster generation, but they missed the boat, so we're stuck with MySpace.
IL: Yeah... Friendster had (and still does) better design.
EM: So sad. Did I tell you I met one of my best friends on Friendster? Actually as a part of making Distance Education (2004). We should make them a YouTube commercial.
IL: Really? Friendster made my longest relationship ever possible. I owe a lot to that site.
EM: I think we should give a little back. We should start an email forward.
IL: THANKS FRIENDSTER! I'll make sure we link to them.
EM: That'll save 'em.
IL: Let’s talk a bit about this year's Texas Prize?
EM: Yes, I’m excited!
IL: How was the selection process?
EM: I think I'm sworn to secrecy.
IL: I was a bit bummed there were no artists who work mostly with video included this time around. Now that you're not living in Texas anymore, and having gone through all the artists to get to the finalists, what is your impression of moving image art in Texas? Do you see marked differences by metro area? Is Texas slacking?
EM: As far as I'm concerned, Texas is booming. It's hard to make any grand statements about the state of media arts in Texas, but I will say it felt lonely in Houston sometimes. Lonely for more media artists.
IL: Texas is doing great! But it's mostly 2D works. :( Not that there's anything wrong with that.
EM: But Texas is a huge place, as is Houston. I know that there are tons of people out there. I don't know, it's hard. As far as I know, there are still no schools in Houston teaching video. I went through a photography program at the University of Houston and happened to have Jenny Stark for a couple of classes. She was great. She exposed me to a lot of important work.
IL: Do you think mentorships are an important part of media art? I know that if I hadn't had the mentorship of a couple of people, I would never have gotten involved with it.
EM: Yes, I love my mentors! It goes back to the community thing.
IL: How do you feel about the influence on an artist’s career you have by being a juror for the Texas Prize?
EM: Oh, I don't know. That sounds a little too powerful. I'm scared now! No, I'm just kidding. It's really an honor to be on the jury. I do feel like I'm part of a secret society at this point though. What happens in the room, stays in the room, etc.
IL: Do you feel like a total jetsetter? Did you get flown in and stuff?
EM: Yeah, like a real professional! I will say that it was a really interesting, affirming experience to be on the jury. Sometimes artists think these things are really cynical, political things, but they're not.
IL: You got flown to attend a judge-in? That's pretty cool.
EM: Yeah, Arthouse is really great. Not just to me, but to all their artists.
IL: And their parties are intense! Do you have any scoops on what to expect for this year's bash?
EM: I missed that secret meeting.
IL: Are you going to be there?
EM: Yes, that's when we pick the recipient. That day. It should be fun. And nice to be on the other side... Hopefully it'll be less nerve-racking.
IL: Just remember to hit the bar beforehand.
EM: I did, it didn't help. There was no amount of alcohol that would help me last time.
IL: Any tips for whomever might win this?
EM: Oh come on now. No insider tips!
Ivan Lozano is a media artist, programmer and curator who lives and works in Austin, Texas. He is the programming director for the Cinematexas International Short Film Festival.
Peat Duggins: A People's History In addition to his own artwork, Peat Duggins freelances as an illustrator and designer and spent 2004-5 as an animator on Richard Linklater’s A Scanner Darkly. Peat is also a founding member of Okay Mountain and is currently editing the Okay Mountain Reader, scheduled for production this spring.
Imagination and figuring the self in the “Magical Negro” movie genre: The Green Mile* Save the Last Dance* The Legend of Bagger Vance* Requiem for a Dream* About Schmidt* Black Snake Moan*
Feel free to make this short list a long list.
A.O. Scott, film critic for The New York Times, summarized Craig Brewster’s new film, Black Snake Moan, as “chain Miss Daisy to the radiator.” That pretty much sums it up.
What makes this film, produced by two black Hollywood powerhouses, Stephanie Allain and John Singleton, the subject of this column is not its peculiarly conservative revision of salacious pulp story conventions or the grammatically elementary cinematic execution by the film’s author. The movie compels because of the way in which it reveals the American imagination fixed in a quagmire of its own historical contradictions.
Even as pop culture strategies for figuring race mutate, the white imagination rests in cryogenic stasis. In “magical negro” movies (a term coined by Spike Lee), blackness is a marker for the self-reflexivity of the American self—a self assumed to be white.
Here’s how the genre goes, a promising but ineffectual white person, usually alienated from their own community and drowning in self-pity stumbles into the presence of a black figure, usually male, who embodies wisdom and uses sassy, no-nonsense directives like, “I saved your damn life, I can do whatever the hell I want to do. Now set your ass down!”—or some such. Upon meeting, the white person exhibits hostility and desperation, but the wise negro can see through that to the sterling and righteous human being that lurks beneath their deep and complex anguish. Having absolutely nothing better to do with themselves— their own problems, families, communities, love-interests and jobs paling in comparison to the primal urgency of the white person’s pain—the magical negro drops everything to shepherd the white person into the light. The second act of these stories offer hope that the social dis-ease with which we navigate race and gender in our everyday lives can be overcome as the white person and the magical negro test each other. Slowly but surely, the white person discovers that within themselves there is whole human— their true self—capable of contributing to the world sanctified in the warm embrace of black love. The magical negro needs no other reward than the knowledge that they have led a white soul into the bosom of redemption; but usually, they get some crumbs. One thing they never get though is laid. The magical negro cannot be a sexual being. Even is the narrative convention is a love story, the relationship will be chaste and pure. This is because there is often some other negro in the movie who represents the dark shadow — the sexual danger—the mark of debasement that has corrupted the inchoate purity of white personhood. Third act: White person gets themselves together, is exonerated in their familyhood with the magical negro and his entire community forever. It’s the American dream.
Selfhood is whiteness. Blackness is the shadowy component of the white self that operates at once in the realm of pollutive danger and cleansing nourishment. This genre maps the transformation of the self through a blackness that operates as the catalyst for wholeness, balance and expression. As Toni Morrison suggests in Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination, blackness functions only in relation to the white self’s quest for redemption and transformation. And in this narrative strategy, blackness “can be evil and protective, rebellious and forgiving, fearful and desirable—all of the self-contradictory features of the self. Whiteness alone, [without the black body straining to buttress this unstable architecture] is mute, meaningless, unfathomable, pointless, frozen, veiled, curtained, senseless, implacable.”
In Black Snake Moan, Christina Ricci’s character, Ray, signifies the abject powerlessness of the white female body that once compelled white men to sanctify in black blood and broken tree limbs. If Lazarus (Samuel L. Jackson) does not drop everything, neglect his livelihood and abandon his own grief at the death of his marriage, to save Ray from herself, she will remain incomplete. Ray, at once barren and toxic, garbage on the side of the road, is marked by sex with black men and battered by the rage of white men. These white men are powerless to create a selfhood that is not in opposition to what American society has deemed a greater failure of human agency that even poverty: blackness.
About seventy minutes into Black Snake Moan, Ray asks Lazarus to sing for her. He, of course, does. His song reveals to us the great mystery of the film. Why doesn’t this brother have anything better to do than baby-sit Christina Ricci? Lazarus’s ex-wife aborted their child. His chance for redemption through fatherhood was thwarted. Ray, left roadside for dead in tighty-whites and swaddled in a confederate flag t-shirt, represents the child he never had. By administering to her, and getting all his friends to do so as well (there is not a black man in this town who has anything to do but worry about Ricci), Lazarus plugs a hole that has been bleeding him to death for decades. Snap! Black Snake Moan was trying to be about reciprocity—the ways in which we need each other. That’s what it was supposed to be about. Close, but no cigar.
Reciprocity, Revision and Redemption:
Jerry Maguire* Passionfish* Shawshank Redemption* One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest* Driving Miss Daisy* Far from Heaven*
The list could be longer, but not by much.
The Magical Negro Genre has in fact been slowly evolving into the Racial-Reciprocity Genre. (Yes, I know I need a sexier name if this idea is gonna catch on.) It’s a one step forward, twenty steps backwards kind of proposition with Hollywood, but many filmmakers over the years have confronted the leftovers of the American chasm of racial politics pressed whiteness into a corner; forcing it to come out on the other side—whole—without leaving the hulls of black bodies in its wake.
Reciprocity: Two people with distinct identities discovering ways to help each other transform into the people they need to be in order to persevere, to live, love, work, and dream—all the things we Americans, all of us, are about.
Cauleen Smith’s films have been screened at Sundance Film Festival, The Robert Flaherty Film Seminar Exhibition, MIT List Visual Arts Center, The Studio Museum in Harlem, Cinema De Baile and, most recently, at testsite and Arthouse, both in Austin and Eyedrum Gallery in Atlanta. Her work is currently on view at Three Walls in San Antonio.
YouTube can be whatever you make it. It is a place where pre-teens project sexualized fantasies of themselves and pretend to be strippers in the comfort of their rooms. It is a place where Warhol's aesthetic of boredom plays itself out over and over again. It is a place where nostalgia has a permanent resting home. It is a place for artists to directly share their work with others that are interested in the same types of questions without reliance on the gallery system.
Sometimes I make YouTube a place where I discover new artists working in contemporary modes, asking tough questions and sharing what they can. Sometimes I make it a place where I watch gang fight initiations or music videos from the 80s. Included here are few of the things that have impacted my ideas. I hope that these selections go beyond the simple act of creating a self-portrait through personal taste and provide informative and entertaining interactions with the elusive medium of video, especially where it meets bedroom technology.
Ryan Trecartin and Lizzie Fitch: Wayne’s World 2003
Brain Bress: The Portrait Room
Jason Villegas: Dragon Salesman
John Michael Boling and Javier Alberto Morales: The Church of the Future
Kalup Linzy - excerpt from Play Wit De Churin
Interview with Patty Chang
Petra Mrzyk and Jean-françois Moriceau: Excuse Moi
Pervert’s Guide to Cinema: Zizek talks about Hitchcock's Psycho and The Birds and Coppola's The Conversation
Alas, New York’s big art fair weekend has come and gone again. The Armory Show, Pulse, DIVA, Fountain, Scope, Red Dot, strategically planned satellite exhibitions, open studios, receptions, fundraisers, brunches, parties and hobnobbing—my presence in the mayhem felt like a necessary evil. If fiscally able to partake in the buying frenzy, perhaps I’d be a bit more enthusiastic. Adding to my contempt for the contemporary art mall is the seemingly inexhaustible number of options and the frustration of over-saturation—seeing everything is just not realistic. Seeing is, in fact, the source of my discontent at art fairs. At some point, my eyes glaze-over and cross and I wonder if I’ve actually seen anything.
Nonetheless, I usually make an effort to attend at least one fair and this year it was The Armory Show. Dubbed the “international fair of new art,” it offered 148 international galleries and certainly my most talkative and hand-shaking go-round ever. In the company of Brooklyn artist, Kambui Olujimi, viewing was conversational, dealers and associates a little less guarded. An outgoing character and, unbeknownst to me, a familiarity with most of the art folk we encountered, I had to abandon my usual ”needle in a haystack” operation.
From the moment we arrived and began to map out our plan of attack, Kambui’s only direct request was to visit Socrates Sculpture Park, a booth located at the opposite end of the pier near the other non-profit spaces. White cubes as far as the eyes can see is a bit overwhelming, but as Kambui said quite pragmatically: “The thing about these fairs is not to overextend yourself.” What follows here is an annotated account of our tour, galleries we were familiar with and the random ones that caught our eyes with a particular work.
First stop, Victoria Miro. I was immediately drawn to a small Chris Ofili watercolor along the lines of those small, framed portraits exhibited at The Studio Museum in Harlem in 2005. Knowing that this gallery, as Kambui said, “has a lot of big dogs,” representing the likes of Doug Aitken, Issac Julien and the late Francesca Woodman, the look and feel of this booth corresponded. There was a small selection of works, lots of space to sit, reflect and read exhibition catalogues.
Next up, Deitch Projects, though Kambui, too, was struck by a watercolor along the way: a large-scale and haunting work by Yan Pei-Ming at Galleria Massimo de Carlo. While Kambui admired the subtly textured surface, I noticed that this gallery had opted to pencil their artists' names directly on the wall. Though trivial and not that unusual, sometimes the DIY aspect of such a small act is a nice contradiction to the environment.
Moving along, just around the corner was Jeffrey Deitch and his beautiful female associates. Jeffrey was busy talking up a piece to a couple (I assume potential buyers), the woman sitting pensively and her male partner standing by her side looking equally intrigued by the work and Jeffrey’s spiel. One of the more decorative booths at the fair, Jeffrey said “we don’t really do what we do for fairs,” hence the rich aesthetic installation rather than an obvious retail storefront. Kambui elaborates: “The thing about Deitch Projects is that they show artists who work with many elements aesthetically. So there’s not a very clean and minimal look here. The content varies too, but you love or hate the work regardless of the content. I really appreciate that management of multi-elemental and multi-layered work. I don’t think that’s appreciated or really encouraged…well, I don’t see it often.”
Moving along and agreeing on our love for The Project, Kambui spotted one of their artists Kori Newkirk. We cut across other galleries making a quick B line for this space. If I were giving out ribbons at this fair, The Project would have earned “Best Sense of Humor/Most Friendly Gallery.” I can’t repeat everything that was said here, but there was dialogue about approaching exhibitions, the quiet dynamism of the Texas contemporary art scene, and lots of joking and laughter, though mostly between Kambui and the fellas in the booth. Meanwhile, I was fixed on a Barkley Hendricks painting, Something Like a Bird, Double Barbara. Other artists on view included Glenn Kaino with his subversive, larger-than-life bronze chess sculpture Learn to Win or You Will Take Losing for Granted, photographs by Chen Xiaoyun and Kori Newkirk’s beaded curtain much like those exhibited in the 2006 Whitney Biennial.
Knowing that David Zwirmer has been particularly hot in the contemporary scene in recent years, Kambui and I agreed that this would be our next stop. The booth seemed a bit too large for the amount of work on view, but there were some charming pieces indeed, including a few Gordon Matta Clark photographs. These were not the best representation of Matta Clark’s work (I imagine the best of the best are in his current retrospective at The Whitney). Conceivably, though the role of these photographs better represent owner visibility and nod to their imminent price increase following such an important exhibition.
Sean Kelly Gallery was an unintended stop, but the Seydou Keita photographs on their outer wall drew us in. After some dialogue about the beauty of patterns and the viewer’s process of dissecting them in Keita’s photographs, Kambui and I came across a Wolfgang Laib milk sculpture, so still and pristine that I made a joke about kicking it just to see it spill. Kambui seemed a little alarmed.
Not far away, we encountered the rather surreal South Sudan photographs by Vanessa Beecroft at Lia Rumma Gallery, Milan. I was at first captivated. White Madonna with Twins, an obviously racially loaded image, weaves celebrity news, art history, religion and the performative, but after seeing several of Beecroft’s binary grandiose photographs, I think it’s safe to say that Kambui and I were both anxious to move on.
Supposedly the only gallery representing Brooklyn, Kambui and I agreed that Pierogi was a must see. Kambui’s tight-lipped response to my expectations for “raw” and “true” Brooklyn representation should have been a clue. Unfortunately, this booth felt like a rummage sale—an overpriced thrift shop at best. Voicing my disappointment, Kambui mocked my earlier assurance and conversation ensued about the Williamsburg art scene as generally non-representative of Brooklyn’s diversity and creativity.
Along the way and off the beaten path, I bumped into Claire Barliant, Associate Editor of Modern Painters and received my first copy of this London/New York contemporary art magazine. The rumors appear to be true. Modern Painters is quite good all the way through. Publishing deeper considerations of contemporary art than one can glean from an art fair, for instance, MP is a good resource to leave with.
Passing by and through several other booths during our two and a-half-hour Armory expedition, we finally came to Socrates Sculpture Park, which as it turned out, presented a visually layered, attractive and jam-packed installation. Nearing the exit, Cosmic Galerie and Thomas Dane Gallery, both in London, caught our attention. While Kambui was drawn to a sculpture of spinning records by James Hopkins in the former, I was enthralled by a hanging gold fishnet by Anya Gallacio in the latter.
In conclusion, I backpedal to Jack Shainman Gallery, which I intentionally skipped earlier in this account. As unreasonable as it is to tag “best of” anything amongst an array of galleries that serve different interests and have varying objectives, I can’t resist. To my surprise, Jack Shainman Gallery offered the best selection of works by living artists. Included was a beautiful white button suit by Nick Cave, a cast aluminum wall sculpture by Subodh Gupta, a few works by Kambui’s B.F.F. Hank Willis Thomas, and an over-sized Prada bag titled Princess by Jonathan Seliger. Seliger’s work sums it up best: The Armory Show is like window-shopping at Prada. You can look and appreciate, but don’t even think about touching. And there’s no point in seeking out the price tag unless you have the money to buy.
Prior to The Armory Show, Kambui and I stopped just two blocks away at The Helena where he was included in the group show M*A*S*H*. To learn more about his work read our conversation “Italian Cheesecake OR Cream Puffs: Kambui Olujimi (Part I)” on my blog Contemporary Confections.
Nicole J. Caruth is Interpretive Materials Manager at the Brooklyn Museum. A graduate of the Bard Center for Curatorial Studies, her freelance writing and curatorial projects concentrate on contemporary visual art and culture.
An article published in 2006 by the Pew Internet and American Life Project finds that about 12 million American adults keep a blog.1 While blog topics can vary greatly, many are characterized by the experiences of an individual narrator. As organizations have begun to utilize this accessible and popular format, this aspect has become less dominant. Alongside its integration into both individual and institutional uses, blogs have become part of an expanded field of conversation on art. It would be close to impossible to compile a comprehensive list of art blogs—and a google search will probably satiate your curiosity as well—but the following examples illuminate some of the various ways blogs add to the discussion:
Since November of 2006, Laura Lark’s WhinyBabyLand blog posts have focused primarily on an assignment given to her readers: tell her what to make for her upcoming solo show Make Me. This is no Learning to Love You More request. Although she “would like contributors to tell [her] something that THEY would like to see,” the results of giving people what they want is oftentimes outrageous and leans towards themes unpopular in the art world: jumping dolphins, a naked Winona Ryder at the Jefferson Memorial and a seascape filled with happy mermaids. Lark also brazenly comments on artists and shows she comes across in Texas and beyond. One example: “I guess it's unreasonable to expect a fucking ape man to have his shit together enough to a) do anything on schedule; b) write an artist statement; or c) use a computer.” You’ll have to go to the blog to find out who it’s about.
One aspect of the mega-website ArtsJournal is a blog section searchable by topic: culture, dance, media, music, publishing and visual. Most of the blogs belong to professionals (including Tyler Green who keeps the blog Modern Art Notes) who already write about art for other publishing media. Many of the topics discuss national and international news stories about large-scale institutions like MoMa, Sotheby’s and the Lourve. ArtsJournal’s features make it incredibly easy to find what you’re looking for. There is a search engine on the website that enables you to search through any of their blogs by topic and a “Most Recent Blog Posts” section that lets you preview many sites at once.
On Typographer, two authors, David and Yves Peters discuss the current state of typography. The writing mixes both criticism on the exploration of typography in a larger context and short news stories on recent typography releases. The blog gives a generous amount of links to sites displaying examples of the latest typography releases including Alwyn, Lola and Meta Serif. One of the latest posts discusses popular trends in newspaper typography usage. Typographer also gives links to other sites that go into in-depth discussions on the technical aspects of typography, including how to create your own type and other tutorials.
The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles has created a blog for their current exhibition WACK! Art and the Feminist Revolution. It diverges from many other blogs because there is no distinguishable author. Instead, it posts events related to the exhibition, but also lists links to thematically related articles, events and websites. The blog format allows any visitor to the website to post comments, allowing for discussion.
One of the more controversial sections of the Saatchi gallery website, Your Gallery, allows anyone to upload images and videos of their artwork. The artworks are shown on the Your Gallery page in a random order, although you need to go to a separate site to view videoworks. There are also weekly contests and gallery shows judged by art professionals and a more populist version where any visitor can vote on the quality of an artwork on a scale of one to ten stars. The essays on Your Gallery Magazine come from “internationally respected writers” while the visitor-written blogs are mostly advertisements for gallery shows.
LeisureArts is a self-proclaimed “infra-institutional practice engaged with various forms of ephemeral, convivial, and quotidian cultural production.” If you care enough to get past the “I went to art school and I’m so well read” attitude, you will find thoughtful and adventurous writing. Many of the posts are simply thoughts on a passage of obscure art criticism—like an enlightened word of the day—but the real gem is the LeisureArts Championship. This year, the contest will narrow down the field of curators to one true winner. There’s not really any criteria, but it’s still fun nonetheless.
Although it might seem difficult to trace connections between the dozens of artworks in this year’s Texas Biennial—a biennial whose only criteria is that the work is contemporary and made in Texas—themes of materiality and how it subverts vision occur in many of the works.
Site 1808 is the name given to an empty field near Azul coffeehouse that has been temporarily converted into an exhibition space for the 2007 Texas Biennial. The artwork presented at this branch of the biennial leans toward installation and sculpture, requiring more space than would be available at the three other sites. Most of the works are staged in white storage pods. This ingenious outdoor presentation creates a structural framework where the containers have been transformed into white cubes to house the artwork. Some works play with the context in which they have been placed: Rebecca Ward’s installation of orange duct tape creates a visually deep space that one can walk into, but then recoils, offering a staircase to nowhere.
Points of contact emerge between artworks in regard to their materials’ transformations into sensuous objects. Many of the works at Okay Mountain utilize banal materials and turn them into blatantly decorative objects. This could be a simple process. Instead, the original materials become displaced through their transformation. The reflective material of Linda Pace’s Mirror Mirror has been cut into swirling shapes that refract images into many parts, disallowing a complete image and subverting the material’s original use. Once inside the igloo-like structure, any attempt to see an image of yourself in the mirrored surface becomes disengaged and made powerless.
Other artists in the Texas Biennial also alter materials to disrupt the viewing process. Examples of this occurs in works at the Dougherty Arts Center, including Michael Velliquette’s Movement from Primitivism to Super-Consciousness and Frances Bagley’s Braided Rug. Veliquette’s cutout cardstock narrative moves across four shadow boxes. The narrative cannot be understood in full without reading the boxes from left to right, disrupting a cohesive viewing. Braided Rug plays with the illusionary quality of vision: seen up close, the rug’s materials are revealed to be of human hair. Although this is a simple trick, it discloses the intricacy inherent in the materials used. There is no secrecy to artmaking when the materials are emphasized, especially those that are banal or corporeal.
Mimi Kato’s Landfill at Bolm Studios is one example—but not the only one—of a work that cannot be placed within these themes. Against a white background, masked characters perform a many-stepped process of shoveling and dumping trash. Unlike many works in this year’s biennial, the process and those performing it are ambiguous, clouded in a theatrical scene filled with mixed perspective and mixed materials. Themes of vision and its relation to materiality are not the only ones evident in this group show, yet it is one concern evident in contemporary art in Texas and elsewhere.
Corinna Kirsch likes pop-up books, European revolutions and Lee Hazelwood. She is also …might be good’s copyeditor.
I had a drawing teacher who once told the class, "Unless you are Picasso or Goya, don't make political work." In his book, Artists in the Time of War, the popular political critic and activist, Howard Zinn writes about the fragmentation of our social roles; to be an artist excludes being a citizen, specifically a concerned one. As political anxiety gains popular momentum and demands a central part in daily life and as more and more of the dispossessed are announcing their frustration at a wide range of nightmarish policies, we see that citizen-artists are once more among them.
The apprehensions concerning political art may be rooted in the difficulty of separating the subject matter from the commentary. It is hard to criticize work the more embroiled it is with issues that draw sympathy—to differentiate between the evils of homophobia and the intelligence of a statement regarding homophobia, for instance. And so we have to juggle the subject matter with ideas regarding the originality, clarity and sincerity of a work as a criteria for judgment.
Loyal Opposition, on view in Gallery I of the Joan Cole Mitte Building, is a survey show featuring the work of 21 emerging and mid-career artists that address social, historical and economic issues in the contemporary political landscape. Although the grouping walks very close to the edge, teetering on didacticism, through intelligent curating the show maintains good footing and provides an informative view of the slant and slope of future artmaking practices. The large number of works coexist well, although a little snugly in the showroom, and each adds a distinct tone of dissent to the overall chant with very few of the notes missing their mark.
The success of the show is based mainly on the strong selections, featuring such tenured artists as Glen Ligon, David Wojnarowicz and Kara Walker. There is also a smaller success in the mingling of these more established figures with still maturing artists like Thomas Gokey, J. Derrick Durham and Peat Duggins. This somewhat risky approach speaks to an open-minded egalitarianism in the curating process, which is refreshing and reflects the nature of the work included. One of the many treats on display is Erika Rothenberg's Sorry My Country Bombed Your Country, a handmade greeting card. The vibrant and colorful comix-culture illustration of exploding bombs on the front of the card personalizes and gives heart to a somewhat ineffectual and generic sentiment. When opened, the words, "I want you to know I was against it," are set against a cartoonish backdrop of bombed out ruins in the area where the quip usually is. The use of the greeting card format provides a pointed glimpse into the dread of sincerity and empathy as well as the impotent, yet good natured, effects of the apology. It is an honest indignation at the acts committed in the artist's name. The card passively invites the viewers to mentally sign it, as a way of confirming their own indignation. Although "political" art can often avoid stringent criticism by stressing the subject matter, Loyal Opposition has no need to duck or dodge as it revels in artists that pursue intelligent processes to express meaningful insight into everything from the cost of war to the bizarre ritual of the death penalty, to the histories of racism and sexism. Dissent connotes a lack of harmony, but if directed intelligently it can be beautiful noise.
Josh Rios is a partner at Okay Mountain, a student of art history and a working artist. His work was most recently shown in Coconuts at Art Palace and Staff Infection at Okay Mountain.
A person’s experience of time today, so parsed and chopped because of the speed of digital technology, steadily departs from the solidity and reliability of historic temporal experience. Reality Bytes, a collection of looped video works, emphasizes the apparent pointlessness of linear chronology in ten markedly different episodes projected upon the darkened gallery walls of the Dallas Contemporary. The curators, John Pomara, Dean Terry and Joan Davidow, present a somewhat evolved reading of the Russian literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin’s theory of the chronotope—quoted in gallery literature as describing “the intrinsic connectedness of temporal and spatial relationships”—and present the works as examples of “chronotopic specificity” to aid in the viewer’s understanding.
The exhibition is accessible, informative and seems to fit easily in a recently fashioned pattern of public knowledge. In the mainstream film industry over the last twenty years, there have been a number of popular departures in chronology—from Quentin Tarantino’s disjointed narratives to Michel Gondry’s more nascent studies of the fractured nature of the subconscious—but in a gallery or museum, a confrontation of temporal continuity seems a necessary point of interest for the video artist and the viewing public alike, as the medium becomes increasingly applied.
The large spaces of The Contemporary are ideal for displaying large projections of video. Though I feel the more effective examples of this “insulated temporality” were given the most prominent positions, there is an implication of choosing one’s own course among the works and inevitably (in a crude curator’s joke) losing track of time. The deconstruction is playful. I began with the large ‘faunal-domestic’ chronotope, Corinna Schnitt’s Once Upon a Time (2006). In Schnitt’s twenty-minute loop, barnyard animals of increasing size gradually terrorize a quaint domestic space devoid of humans, tearing apart house-plants and filthying carpets. Mary Magsamen and Stephan Hillerbrand’s take on post-coital morning rituals in Coffee & Milk (2006)—the “morning-mulling” chronotope—appears opposite. Its position amplifies its premise; two mouths slurp from pools of coffee and milk, dirtied with unmelted sugar and black grounds, in an apparently autobiographical deconstruction of the couple’s breakfast table.
The inherent absurdity of placing oneself between a time-space of endless environmentalism and another of exploded minutiae creates an unintentional juxtaposition. Similar exchanges occur elsewhere: there is a sort of digitized liminality spliced with social commentary between Noah Simblist’s Diary of the Displaced (2006) and Michael Bell-Smith’s “digital-urban” chronotope Top of the World (2005). Conversely, a thick atmosphere of mundanity that calmly emphasizes gender and commoditization is encountered between Sara Ishii’s A Small Shoe Collection (2005) and Brian Edwards’ Kix (2006).
Themes become unexpectedly contiguous once others are experienced. Encountered works deny an expected perception of finality; their enlarged premises bleed and blur. Time lengths are dramatically staggered (from seconds to an entire hour) and one’s experience depends entirely upon which point one enters to cycle the gallery. This play of interaction and cohesion is a primary curiosity. While each of the ten chronotopes run in intentional disorder, there is a progressively shifting “grand narrative” of the exhibition that simply cannot be avoided by any tricks of temporal reversal or isolation. Reality Bytes therefore exists as a chronotope in itself: a machine of timelessness.
Christopher Balla studies art history at the University of North Texas.
Bunnies are cute, fuzzy, and totally harmless little animals, right? Not so in Amy Winfrey’s web-based animation series Big Bunny. In each episode, a group of unsuspecting (and squeaky voiced) children visit Big Bunny—an enormous pink rabbit with a penchant for eating anything that crosses his path. The children are utterly oblivious to Big Bunny’s carnivorous desires—despite Big Bunny’s not so subtle hints that the children should fatten themselves up by eating lots of Gouda—and soak up his delectably twisted stories.
Openings Who needs wine and cheese? Big Bunny goes to the following openings…and nibbles on the gallery goers.
Existence is Elsewhere: Surrealism in the 21st Century Else Madsen Gallery
Opening Reception: Friday, March 9, 6:00-9:00 pm
Apparently surrealism is still alive and kicking. This group show, which includes work by Michael Berryhill, Virginia Yount and Cecelia Phillips, demonstrates the continued vitality of surrealism within contemporary art practice.
The inaugural exhibition in Gallery Lombardi’s new space, this traveling group show is making its final stop in the U.S.A. before going to London & Japan. Draw is a tribute to the fundamental building-block of visual and graphic art: the drawing. This exhibit features original drawings from over 150 artists (including the inexplicably popular Barry McGee) in the urban, tattoo, design, illustration, skateboard and music worlds.
Animations: Nathalie Djurberg, Brent Green and David Shrigley & Chris Shepard Arthouse
Exhibition opens with special hours on Monday, March 12, 11:00 am-7:00 pm
Using handmade techniques, the artists in this exhibition experiment with various materials to create animated shorts about bizarre and enchanting characters. Swedish-born Nathalie Djurberg molds clay figures and places them in bizarre and surreal scenarios; Brent Green, a self-taught animator from Pennsylvania, tells odd imaginary tales using ink, transparency and live music tracks; and David Shrigley and Chris Shepherd explore the darker recesses of the human psyche using simple pen lines to illustrate a sordid and hilarious tale of a lost soul in search of his identity.
PANOPTICON Mass Gallery
Opening Reception: Saturday, March 17, 10:00 pm-Late
PANOPTICON features a multimedia installation by Dustin Kilgore and Jaime Zuverza. A bevy of musicians, including Low Red Center, Pataphysics, Silver Lakes, and DJ Radicon will perform during the opening.
The Audience is Listening Road Agent
Opening Reception: Saturday, March 10, 6-9 pm
Marking the one-year anniversary of Road Agent, the gallery will feature brand-new work and a few classics by artists they love shuffled and remixed throughout the run of the exhibition. The show features new media, sculpture, painting, and works on paper by artists Ludwig Schwarz, Raychael Stine, Paul Slocum, Marshall Thompson, Richie Budd, Greg Ruppe, Titus O’Brien, Ryan Humphrey and more.
For this exhibition, curated by The Aurora Picture Show and Jon Rubin, the invited international contributors who have Never Been to Houston will photographically document (without leaving home) what they imagine Houston to look like. Contributors will upload their photos daily to an on-line Flickr site, which will be projected as a slideshow in Lawndale’s mezzanine gallery.
Artadia at DiverseWorks... Reprised: The Artadia Awardees Diverse Works
Opening reception: Friday, March 9, 6-8pm
This exhibition showcases the finalists for the 2006 Artadia Houston Grants. For the unaware, Artadia is a foundation that provides unrestricted funds to its awardees—meaning the artists are free to spend on the things they actually need to live (i.e. Red Bull) without wading through piles of paperwork. The finalists for the 2006 Artadia Houston Grants are: The Art Guys, Rotem Balva, Serena Lin Bush, Jamal Cyrus, Gilad Efrat, Daniel Fabian, Francesca Fuchs, Dan Havel & Dean Ruck, Rachel Hecker, Michael Jones McKean, Will Michels, Zach Moser, Demetrius Oliver, Soody Sharifi and Joseph Wooten.
Purportedly fuelled by Poncho and Lefty, Kaw Liga and mescal, artist Justin Parr followed his trusty moving sculpture into the Texas desert only to watch it be scraped, battered and pierced by the unforgiving elements. A euphemism for this and all journeys, Invisible Houses presents an eerily accurate representation of our own uncertain future.
Paperwork Unit B Gallery
Opening Reception: Friday, March 16, 6:30-10:00 pm
Curated by Catherine Walworth, Paperwork presents the work of Joseph Gray (Seattle, WA), Sachi Komai (Madison, WI), Rhonda Kuhlman (San Antonio, TX) and Michael Velliquette (San Antonio, TX/Madison, WI). These four artists take the drudgery out of our standard concept of paperwork (artist grants, job applications, and taxes) and treat it with warmth and ingenuity.
Prepare to be bombarded by video, sound, and performance. Visual artists Eric Gibbons, Allegra McCoy, Ryan Lauderdale, Michelle Mayer, Hunter Cross and numerous others will present interior and exterior site specific installations; Neo-Arcardia, Aux Armes, Many Birthdays, Omega Monster Patrol and others will fuse musical performances with light and video projects. A special one night only event presented by Cantanker.
For the 2nd year in a row, the Austin Museum of Digital Art presents a Laptop Battle for 16 local electronic musicians who will face off using their laptops to musically outperform each other before a panel of judges.
Join Women & Their Work for a panel discussion focusing on the everyday collector. This group of collectors proves you don’t have to be filthy rich to buy great artwork and build your dream collection. Panelists will talk about their unique approach to collecting as well as give tips on how to buy art on a budget. Panelists include local collectors Jane Cohen, Mike Chesser and Diane and Browne Goodwin.
The Magik Markers and The Bitter Tears Arthouse
Thursday, March 15, 9:00 pm
Special live performance by these two notoriously quirky bands with the films of Brent Green.
Organized in conjunction with Gallery Lombardi’s exhibition Draw, this panel brings together artists and curators to discuss various aspects of contemporary drawing. Panelists include: Rusty Mills (animator of Pinky & the Brian), Erik Foss (DRAW Curator, Fuse Gallery NYC), Curse Mackey (DRAW Curator, Action Arts Agency) Daniel Upton (tattoo artist, ATX) and Lance Bradley (visual artist, ATX).
Percussionist Lê Quan Ninh and pianist Frédéric Blondy
Friday, March 23rd at 9pm
Sliding scale admission: $8 - $15
Ten Pounds To The Sound is pleased to announce two leaders of the French Avant-Garde, Lê Quan Ninh and Frédéric Blondy, in a rare shared performance. Virtuosic, subtle and intense in their approach to improvisation, Lê Quan Ninh and Frédéric Blondy create a truly dynamic music of the moment-the two musicians' interaction a study on the rich and generative connection between fluid physicality and the complexity of sound.
Robert Rauschenberg and Performance: 9 Evenings and Other Collaborations The Menil Collection
Wednesday, March 14, 7 pm
A screening of five works followed by commentary from Julie Martin Kluver who produced the films, and dancer Deborah Hay, who participated in Rauschenberg performances.
Curator Paolo Morisani will give a talk about Perspectives 155: Francesca Fuchs, the first solo exhibition of the Houston based artist’s work. The exhibition contains a range of recent and new paintings, including a series of larger than life images of nursing infants.
The Museum of Fine Art’s Houston is looking for a Curatorial Assistant. The Curatorial Assistant’s responsibilities are determined by the current departmental activities, exhibitions, publications and special projects of the Curator, Modern and Contemporary Decorative Arts & Design and the Curator, Bayou Bend. Check the website for further information about qualifications, responsibilities and application procedure.
The San Antonio Museum of Art is looking for an Assistant Director of Education with a Bachelor of Arts in art history, museum studies or a related field with experience in museum education. Key Responsibilities: works closely with the Director of Education and curatorial staff to conceptualize public programs, coordinate and manage their implementation. Ensure that public programs embody SAMA's unique cross-cultural, arts-based, intergenerational vision of educational programming to create and maintain the Museum's visibility, public awareness and public image. Will co-share responsibilities in the following areas: Docent, Children & Family, and Adult programs, to encompass performances, films, lectures, workshops, docent training, gallery talks, symposia, gallery materials, community outreach and other areas as needed. Evaluates and reports on public programs for program review and grant reporting purposes. Supervises contract staff and volunteers involved in public programs. Works some weekends and evenings as needed. Email cover letter and resume to: firstname.lastname@example.org or mail to: San Antonio Museum of Art, Attn: Mary Villarreal, 200 W. Jones Ave. Deadline March 23.
Artspace, a non-profit arts organization in New Haven, CT seeks an Executive Director to provide the leadership, direction and management necessary to advance Artspace's mission, which is to connect artists, audiences and resources; catalyze artistic activity; and redefine art spaces. The ideal candidate is an entrepreneurial self-starter who is committed to using contemporary art as a vehicle for community development in an urban context and is able to motivate and inspire a diverse community of artists and audiences to participate in Artspace's programs. See website, for further information regarding responsibilities, qualifications, and the application procedures.
Lombard-Freid Projects in Chelsea seeks a gallery assistant to begin immediately. We are looking for a serious, committed, reliable and organized person to provide support in all aspects of the gallery operations. Responsibilities range from organization and management of gallery day-to-day tasks: gallery reception; support gallery Director/Partners in production of monthly exhibitions; liaison with clients, artists and press; coordinate gallery mailings; maintain databases; maintain artists' press and biography files; respond to press requests for artists' images and information; coordinate shipments with gallery preparatory; hiring and management of interns. Participate in gallery planning and marketing strategies and meetings. Applicants must be a college graduate (arts-related field preferred) and possess a cursory knowledge of art history and contemporary art. One must be organized, focused, resourceful, self-motivated and have excellent public relation skills. A strong ability to prioritize and complete varied tasks quickly and accurately with precise attention to detail is necessary to handle workload. Previous experience in an administration position is preferred. Foreign languages are an asset but not required. The position requires proficiency of a Mac platform, utilizing Microsoft Office, Filemaker Pro and Photoshop. This is a full-time, salaried position with health benefits in a great work environment. To apply, please send resume & cover letter to email@example.com.
Gallery Manager—511 Gallery
Gallery Manager sought for Chelsea gallery of contemporary art, with a significant Back Room practice in 19th and 20th century art as well. Working with the Managing Director of the Gallery, the Gallery Manager will oversee financial transactions, exhibitions and sales efforts of the gallery's represented and exhibited contemporary artists–8-9 shows per year–plus fine art projects in the secondary market Back Room, involving major works of American Modernism. Strong writing skills are an important qualification for the job; conversancy with Photoshop and Gallery Pro would be helpful. Applicant must have previous gallery experience and be comfortable interacting with important collectors, curators and artists. An inquiring mind and a sense of humor are vastly appreciated. Gallery staff consists of a Manager, Assistant Manager, two Gallery Associates who work on special projects, and seasonal gallery interns. For further information or to apply, please send resume and cover letter to Michelle Pobar at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Lawndale Art Center is a non-profit alternative space actively seeking proposals from artists for exhibitions and performances. Lawndale encourages exhibition proposals from artists and curators whose work is site-specific, traditional, non-traditional, experimental or collaborative. Proposals accepted will include, but are not limited to: visual and performance art, video and installation. Lawndale Art Center does not fund unrealized projects or artist materials, but can provide assistance with shipping and transportation costs. Installation and de-installation is the responsibility of the artist or curator. Assistance can be arranged if needed. Deadlines March 15, 2007 and September 15, 2007; see website for further information.
Artists Alliance Inc. (AAI) is pleased to announce its 2007 Open Call for the Lower East Side Rotating Studio Program (LES-RSP). Funded through generous grants from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts and the Greenwall Foundation, the Lower East Side-Rotating Studio Program offers two free six-month residency sessions to 8 visual artists a year plus a small stipend to each artist. Session 1 begins June 4, 2007–November 27, 2007 Session 2 begins December 4, 2007-May 31, 2008 The Studio Program is open to emerging, mid-career and hard-working artists who fall outside the system. All disciplines including painting, photography, sculpture, video, installation and new media will be accepted. Artists may apply for both sessions. Application Postmark Date: March 15, 2007.
In 2007, Rhizome will award eleven commissions with fees ranging from $1000-$3000. Rhizome will accept proposals in two categories: 1) New works of Internet-based art and 2) Community Project. The commissions are determined by jury and by Rhizome's membership. The split between these two categories is 8:3, respectively. Proposal submission takes place online. The deadline is midnight on Monday, April 2, 2007.
An intensive week of seminars, lectures and panel discussions on the theorization of the national and the international in the art world. This year’s theme is Globalization in Art and faculty include Harry Harootunian, Fredric Jameson, Susan Buck-Morss, James Elkins, Thomas DaCosta Kaufmann and Shigemi Inaga. Lectures and discussions are open to the public (tickets required). The seminars are limited to 15 Fellows; full scholarships are available. Applications are currently invited from advanced graduate students and faculty.