Thursday, August 16, 2018
I am going to have a solo show in November focusing on my many daily art projects over the last two decades, and I'm getting serious about what pieces to exhibit and how to display them. I decided that the best way to show four years worth of collage work on index cards would be to choose maybe 20 of the cards and pin them to a foam core board, and put the file boxes with the rest of the cards on a table where visitors could leaf through them at leisure.
So I needed some big foam core boards.
After not finding them at my local office supply store, I went online and discovered that Office Depot had a pack of ten for sale. Great! But they were not available for instore purchase. Instead, they would deliver them to my house tomorrow for free. Seemed like a great deal, so I bought them.
Tuesday came and went, but nobody showed up to pick up the boards. I called. She looked up the order -- and there was no pickup scheduled. I should dispose of the boards myself, and did I want her to put the replacement shipment in.
I asked if they were just going to send a new pack of boards in the same packaging. She consulted something and finally came back to say there was no way to request special packaging, the next shipment would be just like the first one. I declined. Could I have the boards delivered to a store so I could see what I was buying? She consulted something and finally came back to say no.
So now I own ten FREE foam core boards with busted-in corners, but none that are pristine enough to be put in a gallery. One friend suggested that our local art store might be able to cut the corners off neatly. (Because if you've ever tried to cut foam core, you know that home tools just give you a big mess.) I will pursue that. But if they can't, I guess I will have a search for some place in town other than Office Depot that can sell me big foam core boards.
I'm glad I have started on this show planning with plenty of lead time.
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
I wrote last week about train tickets that have been brought to me by vacationing friends.
And speaking of friends....
I'm always wildly grateful for help from my friends. I've been asking people who are on their way to vacation if they would bring me train tickets, maps or any tourist things that include a map. I'm thinking of things like museum brochures that have a street map on the back or business cards from restaurants with a street map.
Here are four pages that will eventually become part of a book called "My Friends Go to the Museum." Each page has the name of the museum, a little picture of something on display in the museum, a map, and of course, thanks to the friends who brought it to me.
I would love to have a lot more pages in this book, so here's an invitation -- if you have brought home piles of brochures from past travels that are simply gathering dust in your files or piles, and you'd just as soon have them disappear and become somebody else's junk, and a few of them include a map on the back page, send them to me! I will love and cherish them and turn them into certified ART, and thank you on the page.
Same with tickets, or museum brochures that include a map/floor plan of the museum rather than a street map. Every one will find a home in my daily art this year. And these ephemera don't have to come from exotic places -- the next time you visit your local museum, look on the back of the brochure and see if you find a map. If you do, I would be a very happy recipient.
In case you are moved to send me something, shoot me an email and I'll tell you my address (I'm hesitant to publish it on the internet, although of course a thousand hackers across the second and third worlds already know it). And my sincerest thanks in advance!
Monday, August 13, 2018
Last week on Hyperallergic, the daily e-newsletter about edgy art, I found an interesting cartoon, a recurring feature by CM Campbell about "How to Draw a Black Guy." In two minutes you can get much to chew on about cartooning, race relations and artist doubt. But what I liked the most was his almost-at-the-end conclusion.
"That's why you should never force style. It's just inadequacy combined with practice."
What a profound and true statement! As I look at my own art practice, I see so many examples of inadequacy combined with practice. Probably the most blatant is that I can't do beautiful calligraphy, so I have cultivated varieties of handwriting and handlettering that are deliberately awkward, wobbly and misproportioned. I think they look pretty nice.
I guess there are two ways to deal with inadequacy -- avoid the area entirely, or figure out a way to embrace the situation and make the best of it. Think about that for a bit.
Friday, August 10, 2018
Another format for my daily map depends on a train ticket, either one that I bought and used at some point in the past, or one that I found on the street, or one that a friend brought home for me. And I must give a shout-out to those wonderful friends who are supplying me with tickets, museum brochures, flyers and just plain maps from their travels. I really appreciate what you have brought me!!!
My rule for this format: paste the ticket onto an index card, add a map. Thank the friend who brought it to me.
When I got home I inspected them closely and realized that this ticket wasn't from Hamburg at all but Graz -- almost 700 miles away in Austria. (I wonder how it got to the floor of the Hamburg station.) And noted that in my newly acquired collection of brochures was an ad for Graz tourism, complete with map! So it was easy to match the ticket with its map. I don't suppose I'll find that kind of coincidence again.
Wednesday, August 8, 2018
This year my daily art is different from past years in that I don't make a piece every day with the same format that I can easily photograph and post to my blogs. Instead I have a theme -- maps -- but no rules as to what kind of art I should do each day with a map. Some days I might be making a little book, other days a collage/painting, other days a 3D construction. Some days I work on a continuing project without trying to precisely document the beginning and end of that particular day's work.
I haven't reported on my progress in quite a while, so maybe it's time for an update.
One of the new formats that I've been doing more than once is what I call "endless highway," in which I cut small bits from the road atlas or other map source and join them to others. Sometimes I mount these constructions in accordion books; sometimes I make cubes.
It's amusing to see a highway go from Cleveland to Honolulu to Twin Falls.
Monday, August 6, 2018
This is the end of my art reports from Europe, with something kind of funny from the Hamburger Kunsthalle.
As the wall sign explains: "The sculptures use architectural models as their starting point. Annette Streyl had the Reichstag and other landmarks of German politics and history knit at a scale of 1:100 and hung them over a clothesline. Deprived of their power and importance, they resemble pieces of wet laundry."
I got a laugh out of these pieces, especially the limply dangling flag atop the Reichstag. The tall BMW towers looked to me just like as a pair of long johns.
Worth the price of admission!
Friday, August 3, 2018
Two more pieces of art from the Hamburger Kunsthalle featuring fiber -- both very simple, little more than big pieces of fabric hanging flat against the wall.
Well, this has a little bit extra added onto the big pieces of canvas, with extensions that are arranged on the floor, and on two of the pieces, to the top and sides. The left-hand and central panels have strapped pockets at floor level, the right-hand panel has some kind of extra fabric-covered plane standing an inch out from the wall.
I asked my German friend for clarification, and didn't get much. She wrote me back: "A Sockel is some construction on which you can present something, typically it would be a statue on a Sockel. Probably fixed to it, and when upheaval is on, statues are pushed off the Sockel, or if you lose confidence into an idol you push that idol from a (metaphorical) sockel. So Karl Marx was pushed off the Sockel in East Germany after 1989 a number of times. A Wandsockel would normally be some Sockel fixed to the wall with something fixed onto it, but it is not a typical German word. With the photo illustration I would think it is giving the construction a name so it is not 'no title'."
So I remain mildly impressed, by the size of the work and the technical excellence of construction (although I bet he didn't do the sewing himself), but puzzled about the meaning -- I didn't get much out of it.
I was much more taken by these two works by Sara Sizer. Although the velvet panels look like creased pieces of fabric dramatically shadowed in oblique light, they're actually stretched and perfectly flat -- the patterning is done with bleach discharge.
Having done a fair amount of bleach discharge in my artistic career, I was transfixed by these pieces -- how on earth did she achieve that photo-perfect image? A fruitless google expedition provided no answers (note to artists -- I sure wish you would put a word or two onto your website alongside the ravishing photos).
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
A couple more posts and I will have told you everything about the art I found on my Baltic vacation. Let's return to the Hamburger Kunsthalle for a collection of works by Haegue Yang, a South Korean artist who is on an artificial straw kick. She has made three almost-life-size figures out of the straw plus other trimmings.
At first glance I shuddered -- what on earth was this strange thing, half fat waddly robot and half explosion in a drapery showroom?
The Intermediate -- Fan Dance around a Pagoda (detail below)
The Intermediate -- Pungmul Ball (detail below)
The Intermediate -- Hairy All Over
The third sculpture, the plainest one, was my favorite; I thought the unadorned artificial straw worked best without the distractions of other plastic doodads. I wish the artist had given more of a hint as to what these pieces are supposed to be about. Online statements about her work comment that her concerns include "migration, postcolonial diasporas, enforced exile and social mobility" but I can't deduce which ones are in play with this series.
I would also like to have seen more of these figures; I know from google images that she has made many of these pieces and I think seeing a whole gaggle of them together would be impressive. You would probably see them as people and focus more on their sheer numbers, wondering who they are and what they are doing here, than on the silliness of the craft materials. But then again, maybe these "people" are part of a postcolonial diaspora, and they're spread out all over the world, only a few in Hamburg.