Bravo’s horrible, no good, very bad idea.

I’ve just learned of some troubling news. It involves art, Bravo, and Sarah Jessica Parker. Apparently her production company is producing a show similar to Project Runway and Top Chef  called “The Untitled Art Project” that is going to be for “artists trying to make it big.” What of what will the tagline be this time? “Make me believe that this works”? “You are America’s next Biennale representative”?

Let me begin to explain all the reasons this is a terrible idea. First of all, for full disclosure, I am a huge Project Runway fan, I won’t deny it. I am hooked. I will shamelessly watch 8 hour marathons when I have more important things to do. I’ve only watched Top Chef once but it doesn’t seem that bad. From what I have gathered, this show intends to be a PR, but for contemporary artists working in “painting, sculpture, installation, video, photography, [and/or] mixed-media.” I imagine there will be immunity challenges, stiff competition to create the next great Koons, and the personality clashes, oh the personalities! The most glaring difference (of many) between art and fashion/cooking is that these industries works on a basis that mirrors the contrived challenges of PR and TC. There is always a client and always a clientele. I fear this show will merely emphasize the idea that artists are making products for sale, setting up a consumerist and capitalistic art culture that will inevitably devalue it (as it has recently with the free-falling prices and the Rose Museum scandal). Furthermore, this will reinforce all the negative stereotypes of artists. I know this is easy to say, but I’m talking about both the superficial stereotypes of effeminate metrosexuals and queers as well as show them as power-hungry attention seekers who will inevitably sign up for this show. Which is really the problem in the first place, those who are signing up for an audition (I don’t want to know) are the artists who think that they just need their big break and everything will go all nice and dandy for them for the rest of their career. These shows proffer this image of creatives that are trying to circumvent the entire system of hard work, dedication, and responsibility for a shot at instant stardom. They will probably all get shows as a result of this and then quickly fade into obscurity right about the time season 2 rolls around. (For a great look into the lives of former PR stars, have a read of this: http://nymag.com/news/features/35538/ )

There was a show similar to this in the UK a couple years ago on Channel 4 called “Picture This” (http://picturethis.channel4.com/). It was the same setup: challenges, judges, a show and a book deal at the end of it. The work was miserable and they chose the girl with no talent. I really cant get over how utterly depressing it was watching that show. I cant imagine Bravo’s new venture being any less unwatchable. Art is at its basest a personal venture, an intimate relationship between an artist and an object, an object and a viewer. To turn art into a competition where you are judged on an arbitrary rubric at every stage, is unfair to all those artists out there who work for months and years on projects, giving themselves to pieces without any notion of its worth or value. They do it because they love it, because this is what invigorates them, not because they could get their big break and become an overnight sensation. If you want the publicity, go rob a bank. This show will give the viewers exactly what they want to see: their own preconceived notions of artists, like that stupid movie Art School Confidential. Except I fear that people may actually watch this show. In my honest opinion, this could wreck art was we know it and for a generation or more down the road, it will be known only as a stupid game to be won and lost. Auf Wiedersehen.

Unfurled

was just poking through some poems I wrote several months ago and found this:

A rippled river unfurled
a series of misinformed decisions
of the rudimentary kind
of the prosthetics used

We sat there wordless you and I
a brick barrier staged
the talking was all wrong
not in words
but crickets

A taunted oligarchy
a prurient mister
Harriet the shrew
and often times the Blackness

I woke to find my window half cracked
ugly malady
fortified wine makes the mind go
ghostly

Glasgow makes the mind wander.

I’m still here in sunny Britannia. Except minus the sun. Although it could be a lot worse, it’s only rained once so far. Anyways, I’ve been thinking a lot on my long walks around town to various galleries and every Topman I can find (there are like 5 in town) about this whole gallery structure in Glasgow and why and how it differs from Boston’s set-up and what influence this has over the work that comes out of each. The first thing that almost need not be stated, but I will anyways for those just tuning in, is the presence of the arts council. They effectively pick and choose artists and organizations that they wish to support and encourage, and miraculously, they have done a pretty decent job of spreading the wealth to just about every kind of project and idea, whether big-time or small-time artists, large organizations or some guy who just feels like doing something. This fosters a sense that there is hope for those just starting out in the business, that they can come up with a brilliant idea and see it through and the government will support that venture. Clearly the US scene is hindered by their woeful lack of support, but there is still something to be garnered by this kind of thinking, that I believe can translate into something practical.

By this I mean: artists here are more worried about getting their work out there and being seen and heard than about getting their work sold. In fact, nobody buys work here, all artists have jobs, and really that’s the way it should be. There are 3 commercial galleries in the city. The total square footage is maybe 2000 sq.ft. Yet on a given friday or saturday there are 10 things to go see or do, artists showing films or doing performances, or showing some sculpture they made last week, or having some bands play a gig in their space. And, to be honest, most of it is shit. I can count on one hand the amount of shows I’ve been to in 3 years here that I’ve walked out of really impressed. But I am of the opinion that the quality of the work is, at this early stage in an artists career a little besides the point. the fact is that they are going out there, mixing it up, and having a great time.

Back to Boston now and generally all I see (apart from the art schools) is a couple of small, floundering galleries that have shows once a month. I don’t see any excitement, no emotion in the work. It is all, for the most part easy and redundant. And this is from young artists, artists that were in school a year or two ago, who have their whole lives to make boring art. Why is it so hard to go out and have fun with the work, to have shows that aren’t reviewed in the globe or the phoenix, but are done because you love and believe in what you are doing. That’s what being a young artists is about isn’t it? about pure, unadulterated idealistic visions of grandeur and the spectacular. Why do good artists have to bust their ass to get into a show a year (juried no less that they had to pay $15/jpeg) that no one goes to see, or worse, open studios where no one has the patience to look at everyone’s work. Where are the hungry masses? The abused, misused, confused (to quote a phrase). How about this, 5 artists get together and say I want to have a show, and one of them says, yeah I know this place we can have it, and everybody makes some crap paintings and sculptures and some half assed digital photos and invites all their friends? What am I missing?

Night in the Museum

I’m in Britain at the moment. Most people in the U.S. do not realise that Scotland is in Britain, and that Northern Ireland is not. NI is, however (as we all know), in the United Kingdom. It is all very confusing, don’t even get me started with the political system.

So anyways, in this great country in which I currently reside (or is it a conglomeration of semi-autonomous regions? e.g. why does the UK not have its own football team in international play?) there are some exciting things going on. In case you haven’t heard, Bristol has just announced a show of the world-renowned graffiti artist Banksy in their local Musee d’Art. Let’s all give Banksy a warm round of applause… Apparently only a few select individuals were informed that Bristol’s most famous felon cum artist was going to be taking over the entire museum. This veil apparently hid information from some of the curators of the museum, the city’s mayor, all the councilmen and women, as well as the general public, although “everybody” knew “something was going on”. And what was the reaction by all political authorities in the city, a city that for years fought to keep his work off walls and billboards and which was quickly demolished or painted over? well of course the whole city seems to be basking in the attention of this show, to blinded to see their own hypocrisy. I read a report in the Observer of the mayor’s walk through the exhibition before it was open, proud as could be, they say that this show could bring in 100,000 visitors! Imagine what that would do!

I am struggling to begin to assess this situation from a level-headed objective viewpoint, but here goes…firstly (and most obviously) the council, which has turned briskly about in its position, apparently in the last 3 years from chasing the man around the streets with a can of grey paint, to celebrating him as “Bristol’s Finest” because they realised they were missing out on some sweet profits.This is despicable in my book, the lowest of the low. Shame.

secondly, Banksy: This is what he does and he does it well, it is quite a coup to have gamed the system and he should rightly be applauded. Let others sort out the nitty gritty of what he means in contemporary art and culture.

thirdly, the museum: this kind of exhibition, tapping into the latest hype (as far as they know) to draw people into the museum. The quality of the work, the surrounding sticky issues of intent and ideology, the curation, the history, seem all to be secondary to attracting big crowds. This is a bit ironic as all museums in Britain are free to enter, so there are no profits to be made at the door. However, as I read a while ago in an article in the Times by Waldemar Januszczak, British museums are perhaps at an even greater disadvantage when it comes to curatorial demands because of the nature of the relationship with the government, one that necessitates art being for the masses. We(I) see this type of stooping down at museums large and small, attempts to be all things to all people. I am still unconvinced by my own arguments that art should not relinquish its demands on the viewer to be an intelligent, knowledgeable, and active participent. I understand the argument that we must try to get as many people to the museum as possible, dor the good of the culture. I combat this with the opinion that people are not given the opportunity to see good art as a result. This is a chicken/egg issue for me, one with no answer as of yet. I’m sure with several more years behind me my opinions will change.

What we have is the triangle of power, the museum led by the tail by the council, which is apparently led by the tail by this masked avenger. Who loses in this mixed-up mess? How about artists in Bristol not named Banksy? How about museum-goers that shouldn’t be be witness to this hysterical narcissism? How about the critics who are I’m sure sighing as they ponder whether they still have to pump out 1000 words about this twat.

Three cheers for Bristol’s best. I can hear the glasses clinking now.

i — issue 2

Coming soon….

featuring the work of:

FREYA BIRREN • AMELIA BYWATER • ALHENA KATSOF • ANYA POVER • CALUM STIRLING • SARAH TRIPP • JENNIFER WALSHE

see it online here

Disparition

I’m curating an exhibition in Portland, ME. Here are the details and a statement I wrote for it:

Disparition

An exhibition of contemporary artists influenced by collage.

Works by Aimee Belanger, Jacob Bluestone, Amelia Bywater, Derek Jackson, Conor Kelly, Nicolas Party, Anya Pover, and John Skibo.

Curated by A. D. Jacobson.

June 5th-July 11th (Wed-Sat)

Preview Thursday June 4th 5-7pm

Zero Station

222 Anderson St.

Portland, ME

www.zerostation.com

La Disparition was published in 1969 by Georges Perec. The English translation is titled A Void. The novel follows a group of friends as they search for a missing companion. It was written entirely without the letter e.

We are in a constant struggle to regress into the past, back to the muted colors and clear skies of yesteryear. At the same time we are bound by the conveniences and contrivances of the day. We are endlessly pulled apart at the seams; we fissure and crack. Collage produces meaning though disconnection, disparate cut-outs pieced together with stick-glue and twine. In this two step process, first is the removal, the dissolution of context from the appropriated excerpts. Then, inevitably, we look back and make sense of the erratic bits and bobs, fashion a new image out of the null set of meaning.

This aesthetic of entropy invades our daily consciousness: app stores and Wikipedia, $1 used book trolleys on the sidewalk, grotesque murals and graffiti on the side of department stores. We are harangued in the crosswalk by towering billboards. We are engulfed by indecisiveness borne out of the accumulation of technologies, of styles, of structures. Collage as art form seeks to capture this everythingness and distill it into decisive indecision, to reason the unreasonable. Here are presented works that are to varying degrees assemblages of form, media, conception, and installational practices. This is an exhibition of collage. This is not an exhibition of collage.

A. D. Jacobson

Love and vice versa

the mandolin next door played into

dusk; a hymn, a forgetful lullaby.

you two, with your touching hands.

the rosewood tree in the back garden

blossomed only once this year.

its petalled pink uncertain

it languished with the chilly march lions

and late april which stole its pussies.

archetypical lonelyboy

wanting the sex and the love

settles for a job and a ten-cent whore.

you

a saturated mediateque of

brightflashinglights—the yellows elapsing,

oh, oh, the blues try to rescue…

bright flashing lights and the bulbs

and the quickpulsed notes that blink.

they come up on you so.

played well into dusk; a harp joins in.

this song has no last note.

Thoughts on Shepard Fairey

Its been a couple weeks since I saw the Shepard Fairey show at the ICA Boston, and I’ve spoken with several people about it and come up with the following critique in a nutshell:

Its not clear who Shepard Fairey wants to be.  Is he a graphic designer (a very good one in my opinion)?  A transgressive street artist spouting “fuck the world”?  or an artist (see the ICA show with everything in nice neat frames and “do not touch” stickers everywhere)? I’m going to go out on a limb and said that if I asked the Shepster himself, he would say “all three (duh?)”  Now that’s cool, but the problem is when you posit yourself as different things to different people, it affects those other things that you’re trying to accomplish.  For example: this exhibition, and its uber-clean curation, showed me that he really was a lot more interested in improving his “brand” and his reputation in the proper art world and the GD world and not so much interested in maintaining his “edge” (which, if you ask me was gone a while ago).  Now he can still go out and make his stencils and his hollow psuedo-anarchist mantras, but any discerning viewer will inevitably see the inherent contradictions and hypocrisy oozing from within.

I couldn’t help think, while walking through the PACKED (on a thursday!) show that the ICA really scored on this one.  They got this guy who represented liberal/progressives/Obamaphiles to suck the fawning masses to the Art Museum.  Nice One ICA, bravo.  As Jon Stewart said, most eloquently, “there’s a market for cocaine and hookers too”.  Now I’m all for art for the people, but at the expense of conceptual integrity, that’s a little below the belt.  The entire show felt like a set-up.  Not even getting into the fact that the BPD arrested the guy on the way to the show.  Yeah, what a way to boost the rebellious cred than getting arrested.  Brilliant!!  The images were great and all, production value of the highest quality, but even he will tell you, this aint art.  It used to be art, but it aint no mo’.  Not when you’re doing avatar stencils for Joey Rammone and saying things like “I’m not a musician, but I’m still gonna rock it hard as nails.”  I mean, that was actually written on one of the gallery walls.  Some one had to fish through Shepard Fairey quotes and say, yeah, that’s what we want to use.  Puh-lease.

Shepard Fairey wants to be our Warhol.  But there are some very big distinctions:  Warhol loved consumerism (read The Philosophy of Andy Warhol) and his abuse of everyday graphic design and pop culture images was a response to its ubiquitousness and the joy he got out of everyday Americana.  Shepard Fairey tries to play this game where he pretends to be Warhol and Rage against the machine all at the same time.  He is at once using, benefiting from, and supporting consumer culture (see his hand bags and Nike posters) as he is trying to slash away at it with withering criticisms.  Someone needs to explain to him that you cant have it all.  Sometimes moderation is a trait to be desired.

I’ve got lots more thoughts on the matter, but I’ll save those for later (or if anyone wants to discuss this further).

Words

Laying elegance into adjectives.

A pudding of lemongrass and marmalade.

A workedup young singer, fresh from the stage.

Non-artists eating their words.

Laziness.

Leftfielder.

Erroneous nincompoop.

A whisk of sanity, of inanity.

Words denoting null.

Of a soothing caress.

Of a teapot.

Recognized actions forming an identity.

That One.

Him, over there, with the uzi in his hand.

Shotgun weddings and divorcees.

Hullabaloos.

And armynationalguardsmen.

Ineptitude.

A signifier; past participles.

Garish beasts of twisted hair and destructive breath tearing into the flesh of the living.

Beatitude-stroke-beaming-stroke-unbecoming.

Images from November/December

My photographing has gone into a bit of a hibernation.  I made some photos in Nov/Dec on my little trip round the US.  Here are a few: