Collaboration -- second thoughts

I wrote last month about a project that I was involved with, where one artist started a piece, then turned it over to a collaborator to finish.  I wish I could say that everybody who participated was thrilled with  what happened, but that wasn't so.  I've thought about this and talked about it with some of my cohorts, and it seems to be an object lesson in expectations.

As I review my own experience with the project, I realize that when I worked on part one, I visualized too far ahead.  In effect, I completed three-quarters of the piece, leaving one-quarter blank for my collaborator to fill in.  I expected her to work in that space, and perhaps add some extra stuff in the emptier spaces of "my" three-quarters.

What I did not expect was that she would work not only in the empty space but over the top of "my" spaces.  Nor that she would remove some parts of my composition.

At first I was annoyed to see what had happened to the piece.  But 24 hours later I had revised my opinion and decided the finished piece was satisfactory.

I also decided that if I were to participate in another such project in the future -- which I would be very happy to do -- I would do a few things different.  First, I wouldn't finish so much of the piece before handing it on.  Second, I wouldn't get so clear a picture in my mind of how it might be finished by somebody else.

A wise therapist once told me, "The key to happy parenthood is lowered expectations."  In the context of art collaborations -- especially blind ones, where you don't have a chance to talk to your co-worker -- I think the key to happiness is to have no expectations at all.

One of the most successful pieces in the show, I thought, was this collaboration, started by Sarah Duncan, who simply provided three landscape photographs printed onto fabric, without mounting them, sewing them together or doing anything else to indicate how the piece should be finished.  In other words, she made raw materials for her collaborator.

Here's what Jacque Parsley did with the photos:

Here's another success, in my opinion.  The part-one artist, Keith Kleespies, turned in a paper construction with images printed or drawn onto different kinds of paper.  Although he hadn't thought of this as "making raw materials," that's the way it turned out.

To his surprise, Karissa Moll took apart the construction and saved only one bit of it, the red page at the left end.  She scanned in the rest of the images and put them on an old window.

But other collaborations weren't as successful -- at least if you asked the part-one artists.  I'll show you a few in a subsequent post.

Collage therapy

It's a sad fact of life that many of us will see a close friend of relative suffer from dementia, and wish that we could find a way to break through the fog, if only for a minute.  Recently I heard a lovely story from an artist friend of how she has a neighbor, in the later stages of Alzheimer's, visit her once a week so the husband/caregiver can have a day off.

When this arrangement began, my friend discovered that the neighbor loved to look through magazines and find pictures she could identify.  They started a project in which they cut out pictures that the neighbor liked, and pasted them into a book.  Over the months, the neighbor gradually lost her ability to cut and paste, so my friend the artist did that part.  Eventually the book got full.

Now it's part of a ritual.  When the neighbor arrives each week her book is waiting for her on the table with a cup of tea.  The silver lining of dementia: each week the book is new and exciting.  She goes through the book slowly and can occasionally tell a little story about the pictures.  For instance, when she was a child, she lived on a farm and had horses.

I thought this was a great idea for an activity that keeps on giving.

Photo suite 81 -- Bastille Day

Political protest at Place de Bastille, 224 years ago (something to do with revolution):

Political protest at Place de Bastille, one month ago (something to do with immigration):

Non-political protest at Place de Bastille, one month ago (something to do with soccer):

Gendarmes keep the two bunches apart:

Museums in Paris 9 -- more Americans at the Pompidou

Although there weren't a lot of American painters on view at the Pompidou (still can't believe they don't have a single Rauschenberg on exhibit) they did have a Warhol and a huge Joan Mitchell, both displayed in prime spots, and a whole room full of Ellsworth Kelly.  (The sign pointed out that Kelly participated as a GI in the Normandy invasion, worked in Paris for six years, and was highly influenced by Monet, Matisse and other French artists.  I guess that makes him almost an honorary Frenchman.),

Andy Warhol, Ten Lizes, 1963

Joan Mitchell, Chasse interdite, 1973

Ellsworth Kelly, Kite II, 1952

Ellsworth Kelly, Black White, 1988

Ellsworth Kelly, Yellow Red Curve, 1972

Ellsworth Kelly, Green Relief, 2007 (detail below)

I've written before about my love affair with Ellsworth Kelly, in which I appropriated a motif for a series of quilts.  I have always been drawn to his flat colors and minimal shapes, and it was a fine surprise to find this trove of his work.

Sign of the week

executed by somehow getting lichens to grow on a stucco wall

Paris museums 8 -- Americans at the Pompidou

I was mildly surprised at how few American painters were on display at the Centre Pompidou.  I know this is a European museum, and the Europeans were always a bit miffed to see New York supplant Paris as the world capital of High Art, but still...

Jackson Pollock, of course, but not his famous drip paintings.  One early work, one late, neither of them "signature works."

Jackson Pollock, The Moon-Woman Cuts the Circle, 1943

Jackson Pollock, The Deep, 1953

Mark Rothko, Untitled (Black, Red over Black on Red), 1964

Jasper Johns, Figure 5, 1960


















Apologies for the truly terrible photo, which shows me reflected in the glass as much as it shows Johns' beautiful brushwork over newsprint.  But his number paintings are among my all-time favorites, so I had to show it.

Cy Twombly, Achilles Mourning the Death of Patroclus, 1962 

I'll show you more in the next post.