Artists I Like vol. III: Claes Oldenburg (…duh…)

So everybody knows Claes Oldenburg, pop sculptor extraordinaire. His pieces are everywhere: misplaced foodstuffs among a set of skyscrapers, clothespins, nails, and icepicks plunged into parks, blown-up fire hydrants, off kilter and waning. His “Store” was certainly a fantastic development in public art interventionism and consumerist critique (or applause?). I want to briefly shed a wee spotlight on his public art proposals. I love the idea of proposition as art, especially the more ridiculous and impossible it is. Oldenburg made hundreds if not thousands of these proposals, jotted on scrap paper, silly ideas that speak to his sense of humor and silliness, a man who did not take himself or his work to seriously. Another artist to work in this vein is Thomas Schutte, I feel he took over from where Oldenburg left off, and has since taken the idea to more elaborate and fantastic heights.

But now for Oldenburg:

Artists I like vol. II

Today’s artist I like: Pierre Huyghe.

In reference to the previous post in which I implied that I don’t really like  most video art, I wanted to counter that with the following example: Pierre Huyghe. This French artist makes long, narrative video art that is as engaging as it is intellectually complex. I saw a show of several video by the artist in Reykjavik several years ago and have never quite recovered from how enthralled I was. The video, entitled, “This is Not a Time for Dreaming” follows a puppet of Le Corbusier as he tries to design Harvard’s Carpenter Center. Later there is a puppet of Huyghe, controlling puppet LC, and the whirlwind of music and interprative puppet dance all makes for one magical video (see below). Constant throughout Huyghe’s work is an interplay between the real, the imagined, the imagined, purporting itself to be real.

You can read more about his other videos in this rundown by super-critic Nicolas Baurriaud here:

http://www.tate.org.uk/tateetc/issue7/pierrehuyghe.htm

Performance Art, no wait, Video Art

I have little patience for video art. I know it’s been 40 years and all and it’s now become the mainest of mainstream contemporary art and it’s difficult to get any kind of big grant or prize with out being a “NeW MeDiA ArTiSt” so I acknowledge, from the outset, that I am behind the curve, and I’m sure the following have been discussed, or solved, or something. Also keep in mind I think that most of this may be due to my terribly short attention span.

I was reminded recently of my dislike of and discomfort with documentation of performance trumpeted as video art. Or I don’t know if that’s even an accurate representation. What I was looking at was a documentation from a performance, but nobody was there, so I guess it was a video piece? It was shown in an enclosed room with a beautiful bench. I was intrigued by the performance, but I wanted to see the action, I didn’t really care about the video of the action, it was as expected, uneventful. I asked if the action was going to be performed and nobody seemed to know. I feel like this kind of work, which I see all too often is a cop out. The artist thinks, “I want everybody to see my performance” so they videotape it. And nobody sees their performance. But it sure a hell of a lot easier than trying to convince even a single person to drive half an hour to see a ten minute performance. I remember [reading about] when performance art just existed. There was no record except the memory. There was no accessory that could be sold. Maybe there was a photograph, a destroyed car lying in a field, a chip of glass from a broken window. When that crazy came in and shot a bullet through Warhol’s head in those screenprints, that was amazing. The story lives on like myth. Of course those are some of his most expensive pieces in the auction circuit.

There are interesting things to be done in documentation of actions. Sophie Calle is certainly a genius in this field. Her performances meld with her life brilliantly. Acconcci’s documentation is simple, to the point, and fantastic. But the most fascinating works are those that only few remember, to those who have taken part or heard embellishments upon the fanciful narrative. Simon Starling is an interesting example of a, for all intents and purposes, performance artist, that shows only documentation. The Shed must stand in lieu of the action of disassembling, assembling, and assembling again. The car is a stand in for the fantastic journey across Europe. The silver steel blob a cover for a historical tale of trans-Pacific immigration. To have merely videotaped, trailed the artist in the act would be a waste, and dull.

A tangent: screening methods for video-based art:

I have so rarely encountered a set up that felt natural and appropriate. As a video artist, one has the following options: 1. LCD screen mounted on the wall, w/ or w/o headphones. Nobody actually wears the headphones, and even if you oblige, you feel like this weird alien member of the viewing public. It’s awkward. 2. the projection on a wall thing, out in the exhibition. It says, “oh hey there, don’t mind this white plinth ahead of me, I’m just a normal drawing/painting/photograph just like everyone else, except, what’s this? I can move! yay me!” etc. 3. the mini theater setting. A decent compromise, holds the sense of worth that the piece demands, allows for undisturbed, uninterrupted viewing, but completely excludes the piece from the rest of the show. A comfortable sofa is much appreciated though, or better yet, convertible mattress things. 4. screenings. These are the most official form, but totally remove these works from the non 4-d. Not everyone seeing the show will be there for viewing times, but most people there will want to be there and be more engaged… anyways…I’m not saying it’s impossible to show video art in an appropriate setting, I just think there need to be more appropriate expectations that are not based on those for other media.