I love cartoons . . .

While wasting this beautiful Saturday inside reading I managed to watch a little TV. One of my favorite new cartoons is The Mighty B on Nick. It is a great show about a ten year old girl who is on the hunt get be the best Honeybee scout. In a recent episode she and her friend Penny became addicted to crashing bat-mitzvahs . . . now at first this may seem a bit too sophisticated for the target audience, but it was done really (really) well and was hilarious. There was absolutely no underhanded anti-semitism. Basically the girls get a thrill in crashing this over the top and very decedent parties. I could not stop laughing, it was just so unexpected and tastefully done. In another episode she tries to rid her town of zucchini, in fear that it destroy her chances of earning more badges for her scouting group. As she stands before the city council arguing her case, the mayor asks: "Do you have any legitimate reason?" To which Bessie replies (in a stern voice): "Reason is the enemy of democracy." It was amazing!

According to Wikipedia:

Bessie Higgenbottom - The title character of the series. She is very devoted to her troop and tries her hardest to earn every Honeybee badge, believing that she will become "The Mighty B" if she collects them all. In fact, she constantly wears her uniform, beats her sales record every year while selling taffy (as opposed to girl scout cookies), and owns far more badges than any other scout. Bessie is a very confident, caring, organized, but hyperactive and talkative girl. According to a promotional advertisement, she said that she is lactose intolerant and has a flatulence problem.

Good Public Art vs. Bad Public Art

While enjoying the last spectacle of fireworks in Coney Island for the summer, my friend and I both agreed that the caliber of criticism in the New York Times is severely declining. Once the authority on Books, Art and Movies, it seems that their writers are lagging behind and tend to be a bit populist in giving their approval (i.e. their love of the new Will Smith movie Hancock, really? come on!). A great example of this is in the Arts section in a recent piece by Roberta Smith (go figure) regarding the excitement of recent public art projects. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/24/arts/design/24smit.html

Smith attributes the survival/revitalization of public arts to Jeff Koons. She speaks of him as if he were at triumph Caesar slaughtering the Gauls and claiming all of Europe as his own - to be blunt, she should get her finger out of his ass and stop milking his prostate. In discussing his "Balloon Dog" now on view at the MET(on the roof garden), she writes, "The dogs imbue a greatly enlarged child’s party toy with the tensed stillness of an archaic Greek horse while subtly evoking various bodily orifices and protrusions." Tensed stillness of a Greek Horse? Need we remind her that at no point in the process of creating his work is Koons involved. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I was told that Koons doesn't come up with the idea (ahh! talentless hacks in the art world and the critics who love them always entertain me!). Moving on, Smith then goes on to psychoanalyze the animal and as a result gives too much credit to the artist: "Koons’s art enacts the basic exchange of public sculpture. We literally see ourselves in his alluring reflective surfaces; his buoyant forms reach deep into our childhood with its accompanying feelings of hope and optimism. " The only problem is that this sculpture comes in all different sizes, including outdoor (as seen here), pedestal and even table top (which can be purchased at the MoMA, MET and Whitney gift shops). So, I wouldn't necessarily go as far as saying that Koons is active in the dialogue between viewer and work of art, rather he is active in the dialogue between consumer and cold-hard cash.

Though I think that Smith goes from bad to worse,and even insulting when she states, "He broached weightlessness from the start, first with simple Duchampian ready-mades: plastic inflatable flowers and bunnies; vacuum cleaners set aglow by fluorescent light tubes and sealed in Plexiglas cases; and finally basketballs afloat, embryolike, in aquariums." Yes, Koons is indeed Duchampian but he is a perverted Duchampian. Koons is mainly seeking profit with little to no political commentary on the art world or the world at large. Instead his work is merely a gross exaggeration of Dada and Pop art. He is another example of the "institutional avant-garde." Whereby, his work is only considered edgy and shocking because the art institution that supports him tells us so. What is so edgy about an over size balloon-dog? I am not sure, but it does make a great photo for your facebook page!

Smith only mentions a truly great work s of public art in passing.- among them Mark Wallinger’s 1999 “Ecce Homo,” a life-size figure of Jesus in London's Trafalgar Square. In one of the most widely trafficked spaces in the city, the figure stood outside the National Gallery, located halfway between Parliament and Buckingham Palace. The work occupied the fourth plinth - which has now become a space for cutting edge and very successful contemporary public art. Thoughtful and creative, Koons should be taking notes or at least doing some google based research on this. Wallinger said his sculpture of Christ was not meant to be perverse or tongue in cheek. 'I wanted to show him as an ordinary human being Jesus was at the very least a political leader of an oppressed people and I think he has a place here in front of all these over sized imperial symbols.' Another great work of public art that is completely ignored by Smith also occupied Trafalgar Square's plinth - Marc Quinn's Alison Lapper Pregnant, 2005. Alison Lapper, a friend of Marc Quinn, was born with no arms and shortened legs due to a chromosomal condition called Phocomelia. “I regard it as a modern tribute to femininity, disability and motherhood,” said Alison of Quinn's work. “It is so rare to see disability in everyday life – let alone naked, pregnant and proud. The sculpture makes the ultimate statement about disability – that it can be as beautiful and valid a form of being as any other.” Both sculptures, truly re-imagines the political role of public sculpture -not through humor or wit, but through insightful investigation of the human psyche and relationship between space, art and viewership. The emotions imbued in each of these works are so much more powerful then anything Koons could imagine. I think it would do a world of good for Smith to reevaluate the public art that she has ignorantly ignored.

I am interested in writing more about these two works, but it is now 2 AM and would need to gather my thoughts a bit more . . .

CALIGULA!

So after my roommate proclaimed that he is interested in making movie shorts for movies that don't exist I had to show him this work by Francesco Vezzoli. Trailer for a Remake of Gore Vidal's Caligula is a short film in the form of a fake movie trailer that spoofs the original Caligula (the all but doomed and terribly curated) 2006 Whit. It features an all-star cast (including the "ravishing" Helen Mirren, Benicio Del Toro, Karen Black), and promises to be even more decadent and depraved than the original film. This film made a huge splash when it premiered at the Venice Biennial, and managed to make its way to America via the (doomed and terribly curated) 2006 Whitney Biennial. It was a hit with audiences, though some admitting were dumbfounded: "will there really be a new movie? is there something I am missing?" But for those who kept up, Vezzoli's work is a provocative (very provocative) demonstration of art's continuing ability to remain witty and self-assured.

Despite all the glamour and big budget style of the (toga costumes by Versace) trailer there is a witty, yet pointed political message. In the opening scene Gore Vidal, sitting in a director's declares: "Every point in human history has been dark." Only to be followed by Mirren's proclamation that "We stole for ourselves the wealth of the world," as she guides two slave boys dressed in mesh gold tunics (revealing their genitalia). The commentary is telling of its time and Vidal (who wrote the script for the trailer) is one of the Bush's administration's most vocal critics (who is staple of many political television and radio shows). Yet all of this commentary is hidden well through a thick layer of wit and sex - and more sex than anything. There are a plethora of sex scenes and - like a good trailer - only offers a small glimpse of the wild orgies of homo-and-heterosexual sex scenes. A favorite: after Karen Black says to another character "I hear you have a taste for young boys," the scene quickly changes to an orgy of no less than a dozen naked oily men engaging in the pleasures of a bacchanal - one that Caligula himself would have been proud of. The backdrop could not be any more suitable: a badly decorated California-type mansion filled with replicas of Roman statues. I guarantee that you will come back to watch this again and again, just to make sure you caught every scene - and not because I am perverted, because it is just too good to miss.

I also enjoy Milla Jovovich's performance. Despite how attractive she is, she is just a terrible (TERRIBLE) actress. And in the trailer she is at her worse, but I am not sure if this is intentionally. When I first saw this at the Biennial I was laughing hysterically because her inability to act was just a riot. Unfortunately, after watching this too many times, I am still not sure if she is intending to come off as a bad actress or not - I mean, is she a good enough actress to parody herself? I guess it will require even closer viewing next time. Though the best part of the whole film is the surprise ending. The short offers a surprise ending. After Mr. Vidal tells viewers that the "film" will be "coming soon to a theater near you," the credits roll and the screen goes dark. Just when you think it is over, a surprisingly sober Courtney Love suddenly appears as the fake film's actual Caligula to deliver a brief soliloquy. This is a role of lifetime for Love, she is at her best her (and I am not being sarcastic) as she declares before the camera: "How lonely it is to be a god."




And the Original trailer for the 1979 version, with the warning: "For mature audiences only."

Paul McCarthy, Central Symmetrical Rotation Movement

Paul McCarthy’s “Spinning Room” (2008).


The McCarthy Installation slash mini retrospective at the Whitney is a must see. This has been a very slow season for the art world - with sleepy shows at the Guggenheim and MoMA. Luckily McCarthy serves up enough excitement and entertainment to please any art audience. It was great to see some of his early films from the 1960s/1970s - as there are no other venues for them to be screened. They are wonderfully installed along side some performative-photographs as well as three large scale installations. TimeOut New York rightfully declares: "The Whitney connects the past and present of Paul McCarthy’s work." This fusion of the past and present showcases the evolution of the artist while providing insight into the conceptual link between his early and current work.

I went into the show a bit skeptical. The description on the wall at the beginning of the exhibition declared that architecture will be used to: "to create perceptual disorientation in the viewer through spinning mirrors, rotating walls, projections, and altered space." But on the advice of a good friend I decided to suspend my disbelief and over critical perception and enjoy the art for what it was - AND I DID! His work goes beyond spectacle and truly does alter the perception of space and viewer's relationship to space. Ken Johnson of the NY Times is right in suggesting: "Over and over Mr. McCarthy returns to the human fact that we are inescapably at the mercy of what our senses tell us about the world and what our brains manage to make of that information. We may go out of our minds, but we can never get out of our heads." Even after a week I am still struck by the sounds and sights of the installations. I am looking forward to a second visit - and, ultimately, a different experience.


Paul McCarthy: Central Symmetrical Rotation Movement
Three Installations, Two Films

on view till 12 October 2008

This exhibition brings together a group of new and rarely seen works by Paul McCarthy (b. 1945), one of the most influential American artists of his generation. The show focuses on a core strand of McCarthy's work: the use of architecture to create perceptual disorientation in the viewer through spinning mirrors, rotating walls, projections, and altered space. In Bang Bang Room (1992), the space almost seems to come alive as the walls of a free-standing domestic room move slowly in and out, the doors in each wall wildly slamming open and shut. In Spinning Room (2008), first conceived in 1971, but being realized for the first time for this show, live images of viewers are rotated and projected onto double-sided screens that appear infinitely reflected on four surrounding mirrored walls, enclosing the viewer in a wildly disorienting space. In Mad House (2008), being created for this show, a room spins disconcertingly on its axis. Two recently rediscovered films by McCarthy, one made in 1966 and one in 1971, reveal the artist's interest in perceptual puzzlement from the very beginning of his career.

Shit, Andres Serrano

"SHIT (Heroic Shit)" (2008)

A great new show is about to open on September 4th at Yvon Lambert Gallery - I am definitely going to the opening, this will be a killer show!


From the Press Release:

Serrano’s work focuses on universal themes such as bodily fluids, religion, sex and death. In this new series he
continues his investigation of bodily functions through color photographs of excrement produced by a motley of animals. The photographs are formally constructed and demonstrate Serrano’s considerable technical skill while analyzing subject matter that might make some viewers squeamish. The artist treats the feces to his familiar bright psychedelic backgrounds and titles that demonstrate his keen sense of humour. The photographs are simultaneously repellent and fascinating, allowing the viewer to inspect the manure without the deterrent of odor or other sensual aggravation. Although the theme is considered taboo, excrement has a discernable documentation in the history of art. In 1961 Piero Manzoni’s unveiled his “Merda d’Artista” metal cans that supposedly contained the artist’s stool, priced according to weight. Karen Finley smeared herself with symbolic feces and even Andy Warhol was quoted in the National Review saying that he would like to market his own excrement as jewelry (he felt it was merely a matter of tasteful packaging).

Serrano does nonetheless confront the topic more directly than most. We recoil from his larger than life images of human and animal waste (an evolutionary and biological response to the diseases that are the consequence of bad sanitation. We are programmed to know this refuse is dangerous to handle or ingest). Once the viewer recovers from the initial shock of the images, they are left to curiously study this eccentric body of work. Who could have imagined that animals produce such an array of textures, shapes and color? Serrano gives us a selection of “shits” that he dubs Good Shit, Bad Shit, Bull Shit, Hieronymous Bosch shit, Romantic shit and Deep shit, humorous, insightful and often literal titles which further illustrate Serrano’s provocative point of view.

More Sister Wendy . . .

This is a bit old now but still a goodie!
A song from the West End Music based on the life of Sister Wendy, Postcards from God:

From The Stage News website:

Sister Wendy to be subject of stage musical

Alistair Smith

14 December 2006

Sister Wendy Beckett - the reclusive nun made famous by her TV art series - is to be portrayed on the London stage in January, after Wendy herself stepped in to save the production from closure.

Alistair Smith

Author Marcus Reeves (pictured as Sister Wendy) had originally intended to take on the title role himself in Postcards from God - The Sister Wendy Musical. However, on the final day of auditions, he was contacted by the order of nuns under whose protection Wendy lives, telling him they wanted to stop the show and objecting in particular to the fact that a man was going to represent Wendy on stage.

“Although we had been in touch with her, because she lives in a community in which there is literally a rule of silence, the information about the show had never really filtered through to those she lives with,” Reeves told The Stage.

“It was the first they’d heard about it around a month ago. They seemed aghast that anyone would be writing a musical about a nun. They’ve obviously never seen The Sound of Music.”

The order and the show’s producers agreed certain changes to the production, including Reeves being replaced by an actress in the role of Wendy, but there were still serious doubts over whether the show would be allowed to take place.

That was until Wendy herself contacted the company on the first day of rehearsals to let him know that she was perfectly happy for the show to take place.

“She has basically said we can do what we want now,” added Reeves. “She herself has been very easygoing and open-minded. The whole kerffuffle has been about the people around her - not her.”

He stressed that while Wendy herself had been rather “baffled” by the whole thing, the show was respectful and “not a parody.”

Sister Wendy is second to none . . . .

http://youtube.com/watch?v=8pJsyXM0uVI&feature=related

For my Writing 101 class my students will need to write a research paper on a topic that interests them. As part of this research paper they are required to conduct an interview with a person related to their topic - a training exercise in synthesizing research. So as a prep-assignment they are required to watch the entire interview of Bill Moyers and Sister Wendy and write a reaction paper to the questions asked and how they were answered. There is a really engaging exchange between the two and a number of issues are raised outside of the scope of art - so it accessible for my students who are not humanities majors. I think it is a great interview for anyone to watch. Sister Wendy is too easily dismissed by those in the art establishment as a mere celebrity who should not be taken seriously. However, this interview proves that she is an incredibly intelligent woman whose knowledge of art history is all encompasssing. I would recommend reading her books or watching her television series to anyone beginning their undergraduate studies in art history.

The commentary for the DVD and book which was made from this interview reads:
Meet Sister Wendy Beckett, Britain's self-taught art nun turned international celebrity, in this rare television interview with America's best-known television commentator, Bill Moyers. In this deeply personal conversation inspired by the PBS broadcast of her five-part series on the history of Western Art, Sister Wendy's Story of Painting, Sister Wendy shares her views on looking at art, living in seclusion, and falling into the role of a television star. Sister Wendy Beckett- who never watched TV before she was on it- believes that each work of art has a fascinating story to tell about what it means to be human. Her eloquence and charm are matched only by her fearlessness; no subject in art is off-limits to Sister Wendy. A native of South Africa, she lives in seclusion on the grounds of a monastery at Quindenham in Norfolk. She made her first television appearance in a BBC documentary about the National Gallery in 1991. An instant audience hit, Sister Wendy has made three television series and written 15 books. Witty and enlightening, Sister Wendy in Conversation with Bill Moyers is an inspiring sojourn through the world of art and ideas- from Sister Wendy's passionate involvement in art and spirituality to her thoughts on sex, sensuality, television and contemplation.

Feminist rambling (the good kind) . . .

A great post from Martha Joseph on http://aplasticblog.blogspot.com/ (a killer blog!):

We all remember Jerry Saltz's astute criticism of MoMA (http://nymag.com/arts/art/features/40979/) for the pitiful number of women artists on display in their permanent collection. Printed after a summer of blowout women’s art exhibitions that prompted Nancy Princenthal in Art in America to call 2007 “a banner year for feminism in the visual arts,” such an exposé made MoMA look rather foolish and behind the times, at least in my mind. However, with full awareness of their cultural hegemony, the MoMA seemed to shrug off Saltz’s words with little effort (or at least get away with ignoring the critique completely)…or did it?

Let me take a step back for a moment. Having moved to the city recently, I’ve been making the standard museum and gallery rounds. So naturally I made my way uptown to see the Olafur Eliasson show before it closed (who doesn’t want to see some Smithson and James Turrell slickly rehashed?). However, what peaked my interest was not what I came to see, but instead a room tucked away in the contemporary galleries devoted to Sigalit Landau, a contemporary female Israeli artist. The exhibition is part of MoMA’s Projects Series, founded in 1971 as a forum for young emerging artists. This mini-exhibition consists of three remarkable video works and a number of salt-encrusted lamp-like sculptures. The most recognizable of the videos is Barbed Hula (2000) featured in Global Feminisms. However the most memorable is DeadSee (2005) in which a raft-like spiral of whole and half-eaten watermelons floats on the Dead Sea and slowly unfurls. The artist, locked in the center, is spun around and around until the watermelon coil is unraveled, leaving her body exposed.

If MoMA’s “all boys club” reputation is valid, then what is work by an artist in Global Feminisms doing there?

It's worth noting that Landau isn’t the only feminist artist currently on display. In the contemporary galleries reside a powerful Nancy Spero, a visceral set of Lynda Benglis sculptures, and an incredible Louise Bourgeois along with a number of other works by female artists either explicitly or implicitly feminist.Is MoMA finally jumping on the bandwagon? Is MoMA finally heeding the Guerrilla Girls’ warnings? Or is it temporarily paying lip service to the pressure to show artists from more diverse backgrounds?

While Eliasson still dominates, perhaps this is a step in the direction of positive change. Perhaps this is also a sign that for better or for worse feminist art is less of a radical movement and is gradually being integrated into major art historical institutions…but that’s an issue I’ll take up another day.

I wouldn't be so quick to say that the MoMA is necessarily hopping on the bandwagon. The MoMA has only hosted three retrospectives on women: Louise Bourgeois, Lee Bontcou and recently Elizabeth Murray. While neither of these three artists command the prices at auctions that their male counterparts do, they are still respected and well established artist. I think the problem is that MoMA should be looking to the future and selecting more contemporary feminist artists to showcase (and this is my argument for museums across the board, including the MET, Guggenheim and Whitney). The Landau is a step in the right direction, but I think more can be done - we all know Kiki Smith and Nancy Spero, lets push toward the future and show the up and coming. Ghada Amer at the Brooklyn Museum is a great example - it is hard to imagine that this is only her first solo museum exhibition in the United States. Amer's poignant concern for the sexual representation of women across the globe is poignant and much needed. Though more importantly it is people like Martha Joseph who are concerned about the under representation of women in museums and art institutions that is needed at this time. Art historians and art activists MUST continue to write, publish, protest and act out their anger for the establishment's disrespect for women/feminist artists.

Steven Cohen notes . . .

Doing some more work on Steven Cohen, some observation notes on his Flying at the Zoo. . . . .

Steven Cohen’s Flying at the Zoo.

Cohen engages with animals at the Johannesburg Zoo, entering enclosures including that of seals, zebras, elephants and rhinoceros. He wore his trademark antelope horn heels which would have made the artist 10 feet tall if he stood up. On his blog we learn that these horns were formerly a wall decoration that he bought at a junk shop – casts off of the barbaric act of hunting. Unable to walk in the heels, Cohen performs what he calls dances – laying on his back and shoulders as he flays his legs and arms in the air as if he was a fly stuck on its back. The performance is aimed at addressing the artist’s disgust for human instincts to hunt and kill animals: “I am dismayed and delighted with fashion – it reforms me. Couture brings out the animal in any drag queen.”In the pursuit of performance, he explores the extremes of cruelty and vanity. He writes: “I use my body as my medium to make ART with. I do not want the adrenaline of murdered animals to go into my mouth. I want animal-blood-free shit to come out of my arsehole.”

Conceptually the work addresses the fetishistic tendencies to be amazed by animals, while at the same time enslave them within zoos and kill them for food. Metaphorically black South Africans are equated with the zoo animals, who for centuries have been the subject of Western imagination yet enslaved, colonized and denied dignity and self worth. Cohen the fag identifies with the caged animals (and thus with blacks) and attempts to form a bond with his fellow marginalized constituents: “Physically I was so close to the rhinoceros that emotionally it felt like we were kissing.”And even implies a commonality of fag status: “Some of the zebras watched the dance, and others not, and one in particular was a great fan, probably a fag, who followed everything we did intently." The animals’ plights are equated with that of the blacks, as there are segregated and kept socially dejected.

Ghada Amer at the Brooklyn Museum

to be seen in artUS:

he Brooklyn Museum may seem a bit off the beaten path for those who swear by Manhattan’s Upper East Side. Yet a visit to “Ghada Amer: Love Has No End” is definitely worth the effort. Over the past few years the museum has received a major facelift, its galleries redesigned, and more contemporary shows scheduled. There’s a whole lot more to see and enjoy. But while the recent Murakami blockbuster has garnered a fair amount of media attention for its shameless commercial appeal, the intimate scale of Amer’s exhibition lends itself to a more thoughtful exploration of the artistic medium.

“Love Has No End,” Amer’s first U.S. survey, features some 50 pieces that demonstrate the artist’s enormous versatility for such a short career, encompassing painting, sculpture, graphic design, photography, landscaping, and installation art. But it is her embroidered abstract canvases that have won Amer the most recognition. And while plenty of these erotic paintings are included in the limited Elizabeth A. Sackler space, there’s a lot more besides to satisfy even the most fastidious visitor. In addition to several past and current projects dealing with the cultural politics of Islam, generally speaking her work attempts to undermine traditional modes of representation by and for women, encompassing what the press release describes as “the incomprehensibility of love, the foolishness of war and violence, and an overall quest for formal beauty.”

The most compelling works in the show are the series of three C-prints from 1991, "I ♥ Paris". Dressing herself and two friends in full burqas (the ones typically worn by women in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan), the artist proceeds to make amateurish, run-of-the-mill tourist photographs of famous Paris landmarks. In one, three women stand huddled together--as does any tour group visiting the famed city of love--at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. The camera is pointed upward in an effort to include the summit of the famed monument. Yet what is missing here are the goofy smiles, excited expressions, or even the odd closed eyelids. Instead, Amer’s women are rendered void, their black veils obliterating their faces and emotions, with only their silhouetted forms starkly posed against the tourist icon. Presenting the dichotomy between viewing and being viewed, between outsider and insider, between Western-style commodity culture and Islamic fundamentalism, the artist demonstrates that seeing this great symbol of European cultural prowess (and early seat of Orientalism) through a black mesh veil is as limiting as non-Islamic persons attempting to understand Islamic historical autonomy, neatly situating the “postcolonial subject” as a double blindness.

Amer claims allegiance to several cultures. Now based in New York, having been born in Egypt in 1963 and having lived in France for over 20 years, she visually endorses her status as an insider outsider. While never denying her Muslim heritage, she does little to encourage such convenient labels. This reluctance is most evident in such hand-embroidered paintings as "Red Diagonales" (2000), whose repetitive patterns of meticulously crafted erotic figures, although superficially reminiscent of a poor Jackson Pollock knockoff, are actually in mockery of abstract expressionist machismo. Amer even tips her hat to Joseph Albers in "The New Albers" (2002), refusing modernity its patriarchal superiority without once falling victim to “institutional feminist” claims. In fact, Amer sees Western art history as a readymade zone for disruption and stimulation. More importantly, her work’s continuing refusal to be branded as one thing or the other is what ultimately enables it to be an irritant in the side of the art world.