September 2012 Archives

Notes on Living Years exercise

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Notes from Living Years Exhibition at WAC (such as they are)

Lorna Simpson - Wigs (Portfolio) 1994
Hairstyles - Hairstylist to critique hairstyles?
What does the hair signify about economics/class/era/age etc
Costume historian
Wig maker
Shown lifesize
felt - craft/trade, tactile,
sepia tone(accident or deliberate) - skin tone?
Loaded images/stereotypes
Possibility of addition to the set/updates
No modern styles
Labels look like catalogue labels or museum specimen signs.
Mode of reproduction flattens and equalises the wigs
All shown from the back, no indicator of wig-ness other than the lack of attached head,
Felt sized consistently, moustache on large sheet gives equal weight.

Josh, Week 4, Label

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New Thermos
I bought a thermos, and it has changed my life. Accessibility to a hot beverage during several intervals of the day is a heavenly concept. What was I doing with my life before this glorious thermos came waltzing into my routine? I am also receiving more doses of caffeine as a result of my new best friend. This keeps me productive, but the frequency of bathroom breaks also seems to be on the rise. Although, with the caffeine boosters, it is a quick paced walk to the lavatory. I feel like I can go anywhere now that I have a hot, liquid burst of energy in my backpack, but I find myself just going to the studio where I ponder when I will drink my next cup. Perhaps this is getting out of hand. This thermos is controlling my routine. Sinister little hunk of metal how I bow to your demands. Your material permanence intimidates me, and your shiny, sleek exterior leaves me green with envy. You must be destroyed. Oh. Wait. It's time for another cup.

Emily, Week 4: Label

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"Bird Apartment," a piece by Oki Sato, sits poised in the treetops above the Momofuku Ando Center in Nagano, Japan. Sato, who founded the art/design firm nendo, creates a small-scale simulation of the urban form, piling sloped-roof facades, each face jutting slightly out from the next, into a single residential structure. The birds occupy one half of this condominium/aviary, the other being visited by a single human who accesses the space from a long ladder extending up to the house. A scattered series of peep holes allows a tiny glimpse into the birds' lives, as their private goings-on are put on display. The scale-play works on a physical and metaphorical level, with both species existing in identical scale-appropriate spaces, while birds are house in the human equivalent of a high-occupancy apartment building, located in the middle of a vast natural area where they are free to live wherever they choose. The work, for me, creates both a social perspective on how we occupy our cities, and a beautiful experience of these small creatures that frequently go unnoticed in our daily lives.

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Mara Duvra: Week 4 Artist statement

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Mara: Week 4 Label

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Inking up a plate

Running my hands over the cool metal lids I search for a color saying the names in my head like a poem; velvet black, raw umber, pthalo green. I reach in for bone black. Such a beautiful and rich black I open the jar, slightly holding my breath hoping not to see a thick crusty mess that I must dig deep in to clean out. This time it's smooth and beautiful I scrape the ink off the top, remembering my professors words "it's like frosting a cake." With the knife I work the ink on the slab this part is methodical, scooping the ink and smearing it back down, scooping it back up again and laying it down. My plate is warm and begin to smooth the ink over the surface watching my image disappear under the inky film. My movements are calculated and I get lost in the process. Forgeting to wear gloves I look at my inky fingers and wipe them on my apron. Scraping the excess ink off I wipe the plate and watch the image reapear. Ready to print.

Erin, Week 4: Artist Statement Revisited

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"Belief in the significance of architecture is premised on the notion that we are, for better or for worse, different people in different places and on the conviction that it is architecture's task to render vivid to us who we might ideally be."
-Alain de Botton


Architecture holds rich history and stories in their hometown, and the culture with in the community is displayed in the facades and structures. The feelings and emotions that are evoked in buildings with in towns that I have lived create a self-awareness of my own characteristics and personality. The routes I take passing these places become part of my daily story, defining my trips back and forth between the studio and home. The psychological affect architecture has on me whether I'm aware of it or not, is a fascinating notion. Images of these spaces that I'm interested in from the many places I have lived, serve as a map of who I was at different stages in my life. Through ceramics, I am investigating why these ideas are intriguing.

My work explores the structural similarities in space, volume, and design that architecture and functional pottery share. Just as my passing certain buildings evoke an emotion in me, a certain design or form of a pot brings out the same feeling. The layering and weathering of brick and mortar next to a peeling, painted, plaster wall, is similar to the visuals of chipped slip covered with a smooth satin glaze. The sense of the influence of time in conjunction with simplified aesthetic values of architecture is articulated throughout my functional forms.

My sculptural work examines curious spaces in towns that I have lived in, breaking down urban and industrial landscapes into basic shapes, colors, and surfaces. Implying architecture through these shapes, I create a new scenario reflecting my personal experiences and travels. This work reflects the environments in which I live and I strive to understand the psychological affect its surrounding architecture has on me. Through ceramics, I investigate why these ideas are intriguing to me.

Erin, Week 4: Label

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Nina

I wear the scarf almost all winter. The bright emerald green contrasting the warm pink flowers on its threads, wraps tightly around my neck, keeping gusts of cool air off my skin.

While a friend and I visit Brianna in Homer, Alaska, her cab driver friend takes us to a Russian village near by. The driver, a 60-year-old Greek man, drove us in his old taxi on an overcast, drizzly day, along the hillsides to Nikolaevsk.

Entering the quiet town, we pull into Nina's infamous gift shop. Inside, the walls are heavily decorated with gifts that Nina persuaded us forcefully to buy. Each of us picking a scarf, we learn that once a purchase is made, Nina would give us the opportunity to be dressed up by her in Russian clothes like little dolls.

Wearing the scarf now, I have memories of the three of us next to the life sized Russian doll. I can hear Nina say in her thick Russian accent "ah-one, ah-two, ah-three," capturing us in her bright clothes, holding wooden bowls, and tilting our heads to the side as she so happily instructed.

Candice Methe- New artist statement Rough Draft

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My last artist statement is null and void because it no longer applies. My work is now in flux and there isn't much to say about work that you haven't really made yet soooo.......

I am a potter. I use my hands to make functional objects that are intended to bridge the gap between beauty and utility. When making my work there is an inherent intimacy that happens. First I squeeze the soft clay through my fingers and it begins to take its shape. I will handle the piece gingerly when it is at its most vulnerable, protecting it from harm when it is dry and unfired. Then there will be a dialog with the object and I regarding the surface. Then it goes into the world after being chosen by another and a new intimate relationship unfolds.
Pots inhabit personal spaces. For me they are in the cupboard, the refrigerator, the medicine cabinet, they hold our treasures and most importantly, they take part in the ritual of nourishment. A pot will be held; our lips will touch the rims. We gravitate toward s objects that can comfort us and enrich our lives.

My experience with ceramics began when I found myself working with several women who worked in clay. Not only was I intrigued with the processes by which they made their living, but became enamored by the way they used this earthly material. These women were hard working, creative, independent, knowledgeable and resourceful, and I realized they embodied what I wanted to become. Now after being a potter for years I have come to realize that making work is what grounds me and gives my life meaning

Lorena, Week 4: Label

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The windows of my apartment let the light consume the whiteness of the walls. It lets itself in like it has already done it so many times before. The shining, flashing, warm light, breaths in and out filtering through the movements of the trees. Bright and awakening in the morning. It lets me know that is time to leave the warmness of my bed, the body that is next to me. I resent this kind of light. New beginnings are not all what they hype up to be. The afternoon brings continuity and balance. unless this is of course a hot summer afternoon; there is nothing harmonious about the heaviness of the air. As the day drifts to the hours of the evening, the light begins by kissing the sofa, slowly moves to the floor, and eventually ends up in my bed like it always does. The golden light saturates the smallness of the space with the vividity of the hot burning sun. When the night finally arrives again, the shadows know is time to play. Dotted spots dance above my head. The temperature has now changed as well. The yellow artificial street lights compete with the moon. The poor moon has no chance with the high pressure of the sodium vapor.

Kevin O, Label, Week 4

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Green Line Construction
4 Year Installation and Performance Piece
Concrete, Steel, Glass

The Green Line Construction is an epic installation work funded by the State of Minnesota, spanning the entire breadth of the Twin Cities. It's an expression of the connection between the residents of these urban centers that expresses a countercurrent to 50 years of suburban sprawl and freeway building projects. The artist uses clean, parallel lines that evoke the proud history of American industry, and invite the audience to contemplate the horizon in either direction as the focus of the converging lines as they recede into the distance.

The installation itself is an important element of the overall design, incorporating the performances of hundreds of "construction workers" in matching orange outfits, who periodically shift the very streets themselves with an array of signage that forces residents to periodically learn their own landscape anew.

Beth: Week 4, Statement

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I learned to love light as a child. Some of my earliest memories involve sitting on a wooden stool in my father's basement darkroom, blinking under safelights as images bloomed in tangy, acrid trays. Light, machines, and chemicals made actual pictures of actual things. I made photograms of my hands, and projected slides drawn with a Sharpie on clear scrap film. I noticed shadows and soft, shimmery highlights, and understood how they affected film and paper. Later, I discovered this was a private pleasure, and that not all fathers were working photographers.

I'm naturally attracted to things that don't seem quite right - things that spread a subtle standard deviation from normal. This might be the shaggy overgrown borders of a formal English garden, faked ruins at a Wisconsin water park, or simply an odd quality of light. I'm curious about how we shape and experience the land, looking for peculiar ways we leave our marks, either through grand gestures like the Roman Forum, or the more subtle geometries of stacked wood. The processes and history of the medium are integral parts of my practice, and I'm especially curious about how we use photography to mediate our experiences. How do we move through space and time, and what traces do we leave behind? What forms do we create or retain, and what do we toss aside? These are questions that drive my work.

While I combine vintage and contemporary methods with references from art history, this is all without nostalgia. I like the juxtaposition of disparate elements, much like standing on Earth, looking up at the night sky, knowing that the light from the stars is the distant past only just now reaching me and that someone, some thing, out there in space wouldn't see our reflected light until the very distant future. I think I'm just willing to consider time as plane rather than line.

I aim to document my initial, pre-intellectual encounter with something. I work quickly with a hand-held camera, and look for things that I can't immediately figure out. This instant is the most honest to me, because it is an event free of external influence and is the only time I can see the world for what it really is, on its own terms. Our brains work furiously to make sense of puzzling things we meet, but that rationality neutralizes and humanizes the experience. I try to capture the world, both natural and artificial, from its own perspective, which presents itself only in that quick and fleeting flash.

Jim, Week 4 Label: My Cat Frida

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My cat's name is Frida. I got her from a girl I worked with a few years ago. She was only six weeks old, which is two weeks younger than kittens should be before they stop nursing. When I saw the house where she was living, I knew she was better off weening early and living with me than staying there. This girl had three dogs and two adult female cats, which had given birth around the same time to a total of a dozen or so kittens. There was animal shit everywhere, and one large tub of food they were all fighting for. Frida was cowering behind the couch, not participating in the dinnertime melee with the other animals. She hates people, except me. She thinks I'm her mom. She also hates other cats. She hates her reflection, because she thinks it's another cat. She sits in front of the mirror, sniffing, hissing, screaming, and swatting at her untouchable, unscented tormentor. I think she may be slightly cognitively impaired. She's my favorite animal ever. I will never love a human baby as much as this cat.

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Kevin O, Artist Statement 2: This Time It's Personal.

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Okay, here goes.

In 2006, my friend Chase asked me to do him a favor. He was making a film for his final project in the acting program at the U, and he wanted to do it on super-8 film, and he wanted me to shoot it for him, since I had a fair amount of experience shooting super-8.

We ran around the University for a few days putting together his film, a simple, absurdist, existential narrative revolving around a Chaplinesque character played by Chase. We got the film processed, he edited it, and it turned out fine.

In 2007, Chase died in a car accident in Los Angeles. In the days between his death and the memorial service, it occurred to me: I still had the footage of him, which had been transferred from super-8 to digital video, on my hard drive. I had contemplated deleting those files, for the sake of additional hard drive space, just a week or two earlier.

I knew that there was something I needed to find in that footage. So I went through it carefully, really only about 25 minutes total, and salvaged the heads and tails of shots, the discarded takes, and random moments that I had captured without his permission, "wasting his film," which was expensive and pissed him off.

I discovered that he was in there, in the moments around the edges more than anywhere else. I put together a short non-narrative composition from those scraps, like the Native Americans using every part of the buffalo, and to me it was stunningly beautiful, and true - not a documentary, not a fiction, but a vivid elegy built out of fleeting, momentary impressions; the shape of his knuckles, the texture of his hair, tiny idiosyncrasies of his posture and gait.

That experience catalyzed a profound shift in my sensibility as a filmmaker, away from the top-down, neatly organized and perfected constructions of mainstream industrial cinema, and towards an approach that's far more subjective, personal, and ephemeral - and which, paradoxically, comes much closer to accessing an archetypal visual language, with rough imagery that seems as though it was discovered on a cave wall deep beneath the earth, illuminated by flickering torchlight.

My work deals with perception, and the mind's ability to compensate for missing or obscured visual information. I'm interested in how the feeling of being lost, disoriented, or out of place heighten our sense of awareness of our surroundings. What can appear at first glance to be an abstract painting is actually a realistic representation of the landscape as I saw it under certain conditions. For example, driving on the highway during a severe winter storm: everything outside of the car is a swirl of white. You can't make out the shapes of the cars around you, but you can see the red of brake lights in front of you. You are able to adjust and judge the distance between you and the car in front of you, and how fast it is going. Two obscured red lights in a field of white become your eyes' only reference point, and the mind uses past knowledge and cognition to connect the dots and recognize what you are seeing. The same thing happens when you see a house framed by Christmas lights, or a city skyline on a foggy night.
In addition to weather conditions that abstract the landscape, I have recently become interested in photographic source material for painting. Similar to fog, snow, and artificial light, there are elements of photography that obscure visual information. Lens flares, halation, and the inherent flattening of space in photography create a different version of the world than we see with our eyes. Photographs transform our perception of a moment in time in much the same way that atmosphere transforms our perception of space.
I'm interested in the idea of selective memory. We all remember the faces of family members, but maybe not a specific detail of the background in an old family portrait. Photos "remember" everything equally, and I question the importance of this. Our identities at any given time are shaped by memory and past experience, and I want to know where those seemingly insignificant details factor in to this. When I paint from a photographic source, I keep this in mind. This is why I don't try to simply copy photographs or make explicit the photographic reference. Merely recreating a snapshot with paint seems like a waste of time; the photo is already there, and an exact painted copy won't do anything new. I'm more interested in creating a new image that is wholly a painting rather than an imitation of a photo. I search for the bare minimum amount of visual information required to signify the essence of the memory. I alter, exaggerate, add, and eliminate elements until I think I've found it. Sometimes, it turns out that minor background details do somehow contribute. Something about a potted plant off in the background behind your grandpa at the airport, or an overturned canoe on a lake shore. They have nothing to do with the person in the foreground, but everything to do with the memory.
As my painting practice develops, these two modes of working are slowly but surely converging. My most recent work combines elements of landscape and photo-based imagery in single paintings. Using these two methods in conjunction, I hope to create a denser layer of warped perceptions of space and time, and push and pull between realism and abstraction.


(I apologize for the formatting. I can't figure out how to indent paragraphs on this thing.)

Lorena, Week 4: New Artist Statement

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My mom used to tell me to go play outside. I spent most of my childhood outside the house, I would come home just after dark without being asked of any questions of where I had been. What I usually did during those hours, depended of how desperate I was of companionship. The usual would be just wondering around talking to myself. If this wasn't enough, I would hang out with the older lady that lived at the house at the corner of the neighborhood. She would let me hang out, as long as I didn't ask too many questions. I would usually ask too many questions, yet I figured she didn't mind because she would always let me in when I knocked on her door.

When I was about 9, I became friends with a single man in the neighborhood. He was about 40 and lived with his mom. He would tell me that his mom needed his care. He wasn't just friends with me, but all of the kids from the neighborhood liked him. I would lie down on the floor to listen to his stories. He didn't wear underwear under his running shorts, so he was the first man that exposed himself to me. One weekend, he left for a trip to Guatemala. He brought me a jade necklace with tiny stones, and a heart in the center of it. My mother saw me wearing this, and asked me where I had got this. I told him it was a gift from him. She made me return it and asked me to never talk to him again. Crying, I walked to his house and gave the necklace back. I told him I was not allowed to come to his house anymore.

I was never told not to talk to strangers. I grew up with no fear of the unknown. I figured people were just as interested in me as I was interested in them. As I grew up, I realized this wasn't always the case. People usually walk around indifferent of others' people existence. We walk around like ants in the same direction; but even ants use their pheromones, sound and touch to communicate with each other.

This same attitude moved to my art practice. But this time, I had a camera to excuse my curiosity. The longing to understand what I'm incapable of understanding with my bare eyes was being satisfied with every photograph I took. I'm not interested in voyeurism; I don't get anything if our eyes can't lock, if one of us doesn't loose more than the other. My work is about asking my subjects more than they can give me. Relatively, I give myself to them if they ask for it. Therefore, by either approaching strangers in the street, inviting myself to my neighbors' homes, or asking strangers to let me spend the night with them, I record my genuine longing to establish some kind of connection.

This similar curiosity applies to relationships that should be natural and effortless, yet these are the most difficult to delve into. Consequently, by asking my mother to write down what she remembers of a specific childhood photograph, and asking myself to do the same, or by photographing her body in comparison to my body. It is my attempt to understand years of aching for her, to piece a childhood that we did not share together.

My interest in human interactions and intimacy is inherent to my artistic practice. I frequently ask the importance of my work in the bigger scheme of things. How is it changing the world? What is my role as an artist? Isn't there hunger? Global warming? Wars?! But I don't have the answers to those problems. We tend to relate to each other by the things we share in common. We all had a mother in one point or another.


Emily, Week 4: Artist Statement (09/2012)

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The Mississippi River is my source, and I'm its faithful follower. I wander along its wild banks, and witness the subtle way my world is changing around me. It is usually momentary, a leaf's lazy looping as it makes its way to the forest floor, and often seasonal, when the first fall frost halts the cricket's summer song mid-verse. Occasionally the change is momentous, like when the river overflows its edges and washes the land away. And if I'm really paying attention, I can imagine the invisible change as the soil shifts imperceptibly, giving way to microbial appetites. I walk and I watch and I try to bear witness.

Two thousand miles downstream, the river fans out and meets the ocean in an ever-changing land of flux. Much as the nature of the delta can only be understood by comparing many static moments into an impression of its movement, I seek to capture moments and experiences and aggregate them into an expression of Change Over Time (or, as scientists may prefer, Δ/T). The physical and social phenomena of change in our environment may appear to be isolated incidents until they are transformed into a dynamic glimpse of reality.

In my work, I negotiate the tangible and intangible, the object with the experience, and the necessary with the wonder of it all. The structure of my practice is mobile and mutable, creating not just the space for an extraordinary experience but a place where the ordinary can be acknowledged and appreciated. I like to explore questions with answers that Δ/T:

1. Accumulation is to decay as a crowd is to __________________

2. Dinner is to harvest as flow is to __________________

3. Streets are to sewer as bluff is to __________________

4. Television is to recliner as view is to __________________

5. Canopy is to roots as market is to __________________

6. Traffic is to overpass as eddy is to __________________

7. Yeast is to growth as cave is to __________________

8. Mine is to brick as river is to __________________

9. Sediment is to flood as kitchen is to __________________

10. Seed is to scavenge as trash is __________________

Beth: Week 4, Label

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Épée
1996
Wood and plastic

This thrusting weapon was designed and fabricated by English artist Miles Taylor, age 3. For this construction he selected a plastic funnel and long-handled wooden spoon because they were easier to reach than the knife block somewhere up there. While the artist/villain/hero holds the bowl of the spoon in his right hand, he deftly slips the wide end of the funnel over the spoon's handle. It is a simple assembly that can be dismantled quickly to feign innocence or to sneak up on an unwary adversary that looks like a cat. This weapon is archived in the mother's dresser drawer now that the artist has moved on to electronic mediums. It was her best spoon and only funnel, but they have realized a new form and higher purpose. When the mother has passed and the son sorts through her belongings, he will wonder why on earth his mother kept two kitchen utensils upstairs in her drawer. She was odd that way.

Will Lakey - Week Four - Labelling the world

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Light and Shadow

light, day, heat, clarity, purity, morality, divine, faith, hope, ideal, guiding, protecting, revealing, intruding, exposing, oppressing. Shadow, night, cold, obscuring, hiding, sordid, secret, private, secluded, protecting, relieving, refreshing, soothing, liberating. Opposites but incapable of opposition. Light creates the shadow, the shadow defines the light. Light can be a relief from the shadow, the shadow a relief from the light. Through their nature observing a natural hierarchy, high and low, reflecting the privileges of class. Light superior, creator of the shadow, but unaware of its existence, unable to see the shadow hiding behind everything in (well lit) sight. The world an unobscured panorama without a blemish. Shadow oppressed, forced into hiding by the light, able to see the effect but not the source of the light. Placed in seeming opposition to its defining antagonist. The presence of each proving the existence of the other. The victims of applied narrative creating mythology and deity. Sources of artistic inspiration and expression. Perpetual cliche, yin and yang, fact of life, natural effect of the physics of nature. Both philosophically and rationally as deep as a ... shadow.

Reading Week 5: Terry Gross

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Reading Week 5: Excerpt from Paris Review Anthology 2

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Reading Week 5: Excerpt from Paris Review Anthology 1

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Reading Week 5: Lily Van Der Stokker and John Waters

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Reading Week 5: Kara Walker interview

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Chris, Week 4, Personal Artist Statement (2.0)

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I have always struggled with the artist statement as a block of grammatically perfected writing. I understand the ability to articulate my ideas, practices, and inspirations are vital to my existence in the art community as it is today. My goal with this exercise is to begin to play with the format in which I write this content and to develop a new format in a vein consistent with the way I approach/think about my art and art making. Following are several modifications to very short sentences about my work, Artist Statements.

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I am interested in the way a bird twitches its head.
I am interested in the way simple motions gesture.
I am interested in the way personal experience is unique.
I am interested in the way wool fibers tangle to become dense felt.
I am interested in the way objects carry memory.
I am interested in the way objects have a history.
I am interested in the way things are made.
I am interested in the way materiality informs content.
I am interested in the way a cat probes with a paw under a door.
I am interested in the way play is made.
I am interested in the way personal observation is unique.
I am interested in the way we perceive gesture.
I am interested in the way receipt paper can be printed upon with heat.
I am interested in the way materials carry memory.
I am interested in the way humans tinker and experiment.
I am interested in the way materials have a history.
I am interested in the way materiality informs practice.

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my art is about the way....

or

in my art I explore the way....

or

I work in an attempt to understand how....

or

a bird twitches its head.
simple motions gesture.
personal experience is unique.
personal experience informs observations.
wool fibers tangle to become dense felt.
objects carry memory.
objects have a history.
things are made.
materiality informs content.
a cat probes with a paw under a door.
play is made.
personal observation is unique.
we perceive gesture.
receipt paper can be printed upon with heat.
materials carry memory.
humans tinker and experiment.
materials have a history.
materiality informs practice.

Reading Week 5: Julie Mehrutu interview

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Reading Week 5: John Ashbery

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Reading Week 5: Dan Graham interview with Kim Gordon

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Chris, Week 4, Label 3 (plastic wrap)

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I finished the second half of a muffin left over from yesterday. Upon finishing, I began to pick through the plastic wrinkles for crumbs. I likened my actions to a grooming chimpanzee except for the fact I was only using one hand. When satisfied I had picked out anything worth dealing with, I crumpled up the plastic. I would typically liken the plastic to duct tape due to its clingy nature. Instead it unfolded and revealed its light-speckled grease fogged sheen. I am reminded of a sound effect workshop where I learned the repeated crinkle of plastic wrap made a wonderful recording likened to the crackling of a campfire. After pretending I had a campfire in my studio, I noticed the smell. I no longer smelled the muffin. Instead I was left with a smell I likened to the instant I pulled the muffin tin from soaking in the sink and scrubbed at the now soggy burnt blobs which avoided the liners. I scanned for one last crumb, attempted to compress the plastic again, and tossed it into the pail.

Candice Methe-180 words

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An ode to my creative flow...
Nothing personal, no really, promise-promise.
It's just that my life has become ever so obnoxious and overflowing and my time slips through my fingers like a delicate pink silk thread. I hear you, or more so that I feel you, your constant vibration humming in my head like a super-charged machine, churning slowly and constantly deep in my consciousness. Sometimes with a little laugh, I refer to you as my hornets' nest helmet. A slew of ideas swarming and buzzing, so thick it is hard to focus on the mundane at hand. You are incessant, necessary and taunting. I appreciate you and hope you wont leave me in my time of unbalance. I look forward to the time I can tap into your energies and you flow over me like maple syrup. I catch glimpses of your colors and patterns searing by to quickly for me to put you into some sort of context, but I take comfort in knowing that you are still there, keeping me up at night.
I know that you laugh at my little soliloquy but one day I will reckon and you will come crashing down into my hands and you will become my palate.

Emily, Week 4: Catalogs

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Robert Irwin Kenneth Price
LACMA, 1966
Written by Philip Leider

RobertIrwin.pdf

Because the foundation of Irwin's work is the experience, to the point where he refuses to publish images of his paintings, I was curious to see how an imageless text intended to accompany his show tackled the challenge of an "audacious" artist intent on following his own aesthetic principles.

Leider's interpretation strikes me as sublime, tracking from an overhead perspective of the emergence of conceptual art ("away from the critique and back to the point of it all,") to a sophisticated defense of its precepts, down to a virtual guide on how Irwin created a piece for the individual experience. He has created a tidy mental environment in which one can either prepare to see or reflect upon the show, but still leaves the visitor space to explore and be challenged. As he summarizes, "what stays in the museum is only the art object, not valueless, but not of the value of art. The art is what has happened to the viewer."


Roxanne Jackson: We Believe in Something
Minneapolis Institute of Arts MAEP show, 2009
Written by Christopher Atkins

RoxanneJackson.pdf

Three years on, I haven't forgotten the violent simplicity of Jackson's show at the MIA. She laid bare the constant struggle between death and life of all higher life forms, roaming the land in search of whatever sustenance we lack. The sculpture was primal and occasionally horrifying, acknowledging the cultural disconnect modern society has created with these natural processes.

Atkins' accompanying text was an eloquent and insightful overview of the show and Jackson's philosophy and conceptual inspiration, giving her pieces a broad scientific perspective of savagery in a human context. I'd argue that his interpretation leaned heavily on the instructional, almost as though the show were intended to support a curriculum ("Death and the Human Experience," perhaps) instead of the 'stories' explaining the sculpture. He also could have provided a more specific cultural context for the show, making connections to other artists or artistic philosophies. Though a few images were poorly chosen, the catalog itself feels well-designed and evocative of the show's spirit.

Mara: Week 4 Catalog Entries

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Judy Pfaff (The Art of Judy Pfaff)
JudyPfaff.pdf
This catalog is so dynamic and vibrant, which is such an excellent match for Judy Pfaff's work. The cover is a bright chartreuse, the images extend to the edge of the pages, and the essay is conversational and engaging. The catalog acts as an overview of Pfaff's oeuvre with glimpses of works that lead to the current exhibition of Judy Pfaff's drawings, sculptures, and prints at the Elvehjem Museum of Art. This catalog represents the artists in a complete and interesting way, text is kept to a minimum and the work vibrates off of the pages.

Kiki Smith: A Gathering 1980- 2005
Kiki Smith A Gathering.pdf
This catalog is simply exquisite (in my humble opinion). A catalog of Kiki Smith's touring exhibition Kiki Smith: A Gathering 1980-2005, this text acts as a well planned and thoughtful overview of Kiki and her artwork. The introduction lays groundwork for the artist's background and influences while the articles by Linda Nochlin and Marina Warner bring out thought provoking comparisons and analogies present in Kiki Smith's work. There is a chronology of her life and several images from early in her career to the present. The catalog is an intimate look at Kiki Smith and provides an intelligent outlook on her work.

Lorena, Week 4: Catalog

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Telling Stories

Link to Carrie Mae Weems work

The text of Rituals and Revolutions weems016.pdf

Link to Ellen Rothenberg


I found a small exhibition catalogue published by the Boston University Art Gallery. It featured the work of Carrie Mae Weems and Ellen Rothenberg. The exhibition titled Telling Stories, examines the concept of memory and history. The exhibition challenges the idea of the master narrative and the role ideal historian as the impartial observant. The photographs and narratives portray how history has shaped the identity of women through oppression and how the master narrative has silenced the stories being told by women from different classes and the third world. The role of Carrie Mae Weems and Ellen Rothenberg is to interrogate, resist and manipulate what we perceive to be history.

Ellen Rothenberg's Beautiful Youth shows propaganda photographs used by the Nazi to urge young women into serving the third Reich. The construction of identity of women is demonstrated how the publications use women by their physical appearance, showing them strong and youthful. A nationalistic pride and joy to serve their country is demonstrated and demanded from to the women, and the use of the stereotypical Aryan woman who represents beauty, charm, nurture and empathy is used as a mechanism to persuade. The photographs are seductive by showing their smiling mouths, smooth young faces and white skin. The propaganda images aim to show that even at the midst of war, life can remain stable if women do their part. Rothenberg enlarges these photographs and crops them. The graininess, fragmentation and enlargement of the photographs reveal the Nazi construction of the ideal woman. By cropping the image just to the tasked being done, Rothenberg emphasizes the underlined relationship between the happy servant woman to her country and the country's agenda. There's also a worktable with severed hands and fingers, and aprons hanged on the wall. The worktable is aimed to represent the production of women, and the severed body part is the fetishization of women and the aprons are meant to be seen as the natural role of women in Third Reich.

Carrie Mae Weems

Ritual and Revolution is a series of digital photographs printed in muslin cloth. The photographs depicted on the cloth range from classical temples, African slave sites, European Palaces and Maya ruins. As the viewer walks through the exhibition, they are supposed to feel the vastness of the accomplished happened in those sites, yet the struggles of the conquered had to endure in those sites. Weems uses her voice to become the narrative and the speaker of the silenced. Weems uses herself as a witness to reclaim what she sees the great moments of history. Weems becomes the voice of the survivals using the words "I was with you..in the ancient ruins of time...when you stormed the Bastille &...in the hideous mise en scene of the middle passage..In the death camps, etc." She continues with " I saw everlasting death...I saw you and your father..I saw your fear of pleasure, etc." The gaze of the artist becomes our historical lens to the buried stories untold.

The catalog is simple, small and printed with a soft cover. The catalog has everything that I think makes a catalog successful. Good, detailed images of the work in the exhibition with the labels of information. The introduction essay written by the curator gives a great background of the artists' work and how they started to be interested in the subject of memory and history. It also gives background and key information of the history of what the work is about. The essay is easy to read, well written, and it explores the theories and artist intentions of the work. It is not redundant and gives the necessary information to understand the work. I supposed it is also easy to like the catalog if you already like the artist's work.

Lighter, Wolfgang Tillman

wolfgang_tillmans539-1.jpg

tillmans5.jpg

Catalog Scan: Tillmans.pdf

The catalog for the exhibition Lighter by Wolfgang Tillman exhibits his retrospective work of over the last 20 years; since the beginning of his career when he was making photographs for magazines of the punk scene and street culture to his Lighter and Paper Drop series. The catalog includes installation photographs taken by Tillman himself and by other hired photographers by the museums. As a result of this, you see his photographs installed in different environments, and how the environment affects the read of the work. It is a large book of about 400 pages, hard cover; it including three opening essays about Tillman's work. The topics range from the concept of the photograph as the object itself, the way Tillman treats the space with his photographs and what happens when the photograph is liberated from the frame. The writing is dense, sometimes can be very abstract, and at times difficult to follow, yet if you know Tillman's work you can somewhat grasp the concepts and ideas of what the essays are talking about.

The majority of the photographs on the book include installation photographs of the work. There are some few photographs that shows the photograph itself. This shows how much the space is part of the actual work. It also shows the relationship of the photographs to each other, and how one affects the other. The amount of work on the book is overwhelming, and they all start to blend the more you look at the book. I like Tillman's work, and I like the book as an idea. Yet, I think a much better approach would had been to include the installation shots, but also include prints of his actually work as well. Both would have made each other stronger, since his photographs (especially his latest work) are very formal, and show already the photograph as an object. In this book form, the photographs become an object, represented as objects printed in an object. (The book) If I had gone to the exhibition, I wouldn't have felt necessary to buy the catalog, because I had already experienced seeing the work with the space. The idea of over and over representation of this idea seems redundant.

Kevin, Week 4, Catalog

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Turrell1.PDF

Turrell2.PDF

James Turrell: The Wolfsburg Project is really beautifully done - the layout is simple and it features five substantial essays about his work. So, if I had time right now to sit and read the whole thing, I think I'd come away with a strong sense from multiple perspectives of his art over the course of his career. The photography is excellent, especially given that his work seems difficult to photograph well.

I chose pages that discuss his early work because I was especially glad that there was a biographical element to the discussion of his work, and it was valuable to me to see his evolution as an artist over more than forty years. As a cinematographer I can relate to his early experiments with color and light, and it puts his whole career into perspective for me.


Viola1.pdf

Viola2.PDF

Bill Viola: Survey of a Decade is more problematic. It goes into detail about a number of Viola's prominent works, so the content seems strong enough, but the design of the book is weak - it seems to me that poor choices were made for the font and the layout - the lines seem crammed in which makes it a claustrophobic reading experience. This compromises my response to the work, and in a way, underlines the complicated reaction I have to this artist overall - the ideas are great but the execution can be kind of frumpy, in my opinion. I'm not sure whether it's an aesthetic choice on his part, whether it's specific to the time period and the technology of its era, or whether I'm just being unfair about the video sensibilities of the 1980s.

Erin, Week 4: Catalogs

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Sigmar Polke.pdf

Northern Clay Center.pdf

(My responses are in the the attached files. Thanks!)

Chris, Week 4, Catalog/uge

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The District Six Public Sculpture Project, Cape Town, South Africa

This catalog begins with an introduction to the logistics of the exhibition which opened the latter part of 1997 on a piece of land, "District Six", overlooking Cape Town South Africa. The introduction is followed by an array of short essays which walk the reader through a history of District six and the lives of its inhabitants. The remainder of the catalog consists of pictures of the artists work, writings/statements by the artists, and reviews of some specific works.

Here is a condensed version of District Six history for you:

District Six is an area poised on the sloping landscape overlooking downtown Cape Town and the Atlantic Ocean. In 1966, The South African Government declared this prime piece of real estate a white residential area and began to clear it of any inhabitants not fitting this description. Around 60,000 residents were displaced and buildings were bulldozed. After the fall of the Apartheid Regime, a majority of the land was cleared again. The government has been working to return the land to those who were displaced. The current process of restitution has been a difficult and time taking process. District Six is to this day mostly a grassy hillside sprinkled with traces of life, overlooking Cape Town.

Here is an official link to a brief overview of the sculpture project: http://www.districtsix.co.za/sculpture%20festival.htm

Here is an excerpt.pdffrom the catalog.

The logistical introduction of the catalog is a helpful entry point to the project in that it details the scale of organization and community involvement this exhibition required. The Author's description of how various committees, organizations, artists, public figures, and community members played a role in the project is reminiscent to that of attitudes put forth by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The selection of essays and short stories which follow the intro set a mood and give context to an emotional place and process. I begin to develop a sense of irony from the project and how it relates to the irony of restitution. One author states how moving back to District Six is undesirable and it is insulting for others to think they should again inhabit the land.

The catalog is very "heavy" and is filled with somber pieces which are professed to be about loss and void and memory. The project is said to be a final protest to the tragedy of their forced removal (most of the works were bulldozed for new construction months after the exhibition). It reads to me like a diary, a fragmented collage of emotions, memories and memorials.
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A fun catalog...

Toilets of the World (link) - Morna E. Gregory and Sian James

This catalog is a survey of toilets from around the world. The samples provided range from the most extravagantly crafted porcelain urinal mounts in Tokyo, to a hole in the ground surrounded by thatched grass in one of India's national parks. Toilets of the World begins with a short(ened) list of English names for toilet. Well over 200 thrones are pictured and labeled with geographic location and a brief insight into the significance of their existence. 6 sections provide continental dividers between often distinct and disparate bathroom cultures. As the back cover professes, "Here, at last, is the ultimate book for the smallest room in your home."

Jim, Week 4, Catalogs

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celmins.pdf
hopper.pdf

The catalog for the Vija Celmins exhibition touches on biography of the artist, methods and modes she works in, conceptual content, and context of her work withiin the art world (and real world) at the time it was created. The pamphlet that I uploaded contains a small excerpt from a book which goes more in depth. For example, in the book, there is an image of a Gerhard Richter painting, with a brief discussion of how other artists were painting from found photographic sources at the time. It also contains full color images of every piece in the show. (I didn't scan the book because it doesn't quite open totally flat. I didn't want to force it because it's a really nice book which is now out of print.)


The Edward Hopper catalog, for a retrospective of his work at The Whitney in 1980, is quite different than the Celmins catalog. Because this was a major retrospective of a very prolific artist, the catalog is basically a textbook about Hopper. I scanned only two pages of text which represent my favorite part of the book. You will notice headers for "architecture" and "cities" followed by comments on these topics influenced and revealed themselves in Hopper's work. These are only two of many subjects approached this way in the catalog. I think this format is perfect for briefly and succinctly covering Hopper's vast bodies of work. This section was preceded by some pretty boring biographical stuff and an equally boring foreward by the director of The Whitney about how proud he is to bring you this show, how important his museum is, blah blah etc.

Will Lakey - New York School style letter to the Queen.

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Dedicated to Her Majesty the Queen (from a departed Subject aged 31 1/3)

Queen: (please excuse the familiar)
I feel the need to express my position with regard to my recent departure from the United Kingdom on May 15th from Heathrow Airport. Specifically Glasgow for eight years prior to that, mostly the beautiful neighbourhood of Bridgeton (it needs attention, just FYI).

Although I changed status in the immigration office of Newark airport, in New Jersey on March 23rd of this year ("Welcome to America!"), I wish to reassure you that this was not an ideological event! And though I adopt the style of the New York School poets to construct this missive please do not feel that I have gone native. They may decide these efforts constitute a "legitimate rape" of the genre, but perhaps my efforts are too fumbling and insincere for the body of the New York School to need to "shut the whole thing down".

And while I am now subject to the whims of that popular international figure, Barack O'Bama, I do not consider myself his Subject. I will always feel more akin (a kin?) to your grandson Prince William, with whom I share a name (or gave my name to? My first steps on your fair isle did precede his by a year).

My status may be immigrationally concrete, it is far from secure in my mind. I am other. I have always felt other, but until now I have put that down to a Creatives perspective. Here I am fish-and-chips, a phrase which has begun to feel uncomfortable even in my mouth, I have only been here two months. I resent my mental preoccupation with minor cultural insignificancies, a knife and fork do not define me, and baked beans with meat flavour is not a crime no matter what my inner Beefeater may be shouting from behind his fifth pint of Real Ale. A bean makes not the (English) man.

I have previously decided to launch myself into this lifestyle to make the best of it, and though I know there is a lot of best to make, it sometimes feels more like shake n' bake. Homesickness is a constant GPS reminding me of where I am not. It repeatedly fails to answer the question of where else I should be. I never identified as a Brummie, a Geordie, a Cockney, or a Manx. The closest bad description was applied in Scotland, where I was a Soft Southerner, occasionally a Fucking Englishman, or possibly a Proddy Bastard. Here, I am at least primarily Artist, which is a nice elevation and balances many quiet doubts and second thoughts.

So I have chosen to build my Englishman's Castle in this former colony. A former coloniser becoming colonised by American culture, an undeniable gigantic dildo that must be accepted with good grace. Artificial as the phallic analogue but still capable of providing great pleasure if you can accept it, which you must or go mad since it is not often allowing of an open relationship.

Pen pals then, it shall have to be, but I cling to the awareness that when traveling far one must travel light. I can choose the baggage I shed and search through my collections for the best things to carry along as keepsakes. Like Kerouak, I resolve to revel in the journey no matter where it takes me. Sifting and shedding on the way to identify those parts of 31 years that are worth framing, and I assure you Your Majesty that there will always be a portrait of you at the back of my cultural suitcase. Representing a beautiful national ideal that is hard to recognise in the mescaline experience of life in the United Kingdom, but is a much stronger structure in the isolation of an expats yearning.

When I fall asleep tonight, six hours out of phase, I assure you, I will dream in England.

Beth: Week 4, Catalogs

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Jason Fulford
The Mushroom Collection
Minneapolis Institute of Arts, 2011
J_Fulford.pdf
This catalog accompanied an exhibition in the New Pictures program of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts earlier this year. When Fulford was given an envelope of annotated mushroom photographs, he used these images as springboards to create new associations and make new images. This new collection became his book The Mushroom Collector, published in 2010. As ideas and associations continued to pop up like, er, mushrooms, this project expanded into other mediums. The MIA asked Fulford to stage interventions within the permanent collection in conjunction with his exhibition, and this interactive catalog was published by the museum. The catalog includes 30 perforated, adhesive stamps with images from the exhibition. These stamps are meant to be removed and affixed on top of "X" marks printed throughout the catalog, including on the cover. This participatory nature allows the reader to make her own associations between the fragments of image and text printed on the pages.

This is an unconventional exhibition catalog in that it is a direct extension of the exhibition and other previous iterations, and works to help people understand the visual and intellectual concepts at play by inviting people to be direct actors in creating their own interpretations. Since I only got one copy of the catalog, I never used the stamps as intended, which also allows me to change my associations each time I view it.

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Tacita Dean
Film
Tate Gallery, 2011
Tacita_Dean_FILM.pdf
This is the catalog that accompanied Dean's 11-minute silent film project in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern Gallery last year. The volume functions as a plea to stop the rapid dismantling of the manufacture and processing of analogue film in favor of digital technology. In the beginning is an introductory essay by Nicholas Cullinan, followed by a long, detailed essay by Dean on the motivations and processes behind her film. This is an impassioned volume, and Dean has enlisted 81 other contributors to support her case that film is it's own specific medium, and that digital is a completely different animal. There is room for both, and need for both.

I loved reading the pieces from her contributors, which range from curators and conservators to directors, cinematographers, and artists. The catalog also includes a short strip of film to give the reader a real chunk of the medium to handle and consider. There is a circle-the-wagons feel to this book, and it's refreshing to see such passion for the medium I love.

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2011-2012 McKnight Photography Catalog
Rochester Art Center, 2012
McKnight photo catalog.pdf
This is the catalog for a current exhibition that includes my work. I chose it because I just got it, and its form is typical for this type of fellowship exhibition. In this kind of exhibition, the only thing the artists and their work have in common is that we received fellowships from a foundation. There is a short piece from Kris Douglas, the chief curator of the art center, followed by an introductory essay by Darsie Alexander that sets up the sections on individual artists, and works to find threads we have in common. Artist sections begin with essays by Lisa Sutcliffe, introducing this new work created during the fellowship period and finding a place for it in the medium's history.

A simple catalog like this does what it needs to do. It is clearly designed, written, and edited, and its ultra-conventional format supplements the photographs yet doesn't attempt to compete. There are times that I just want a catalog to be a record, and this one works that way. Plus, both Darsie Alexander and Lisa Sutcliffe were involved!

Josh, Week 4, Catalogs

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JeredSprecher.pdf
WillieCole.pdf
BruceNauman.pdf

Jered Sprecher
I find the writing in this catalog to be essential for me to really access the work. I think it describes the paintings that attempt to evade a concrete description rather concretely. It makes me a little giddy when she says, "Acting as hunter and gatherer, he finds each image...".

Willie Cole
This exhibition was just at Highpoint, and I was excited that the catalog was free. It was full of beautiful reproductions of the prints of ironing boards that covered the walls of an entire room. I think the catalog is very informative of Willie's history as an artist, and very extensive with the process of this particular project at Highpoint.

Bruce Nauman
"He regularly draws on what is around him, something as seemingly banal as his studio space or a found sign, to instigate his work." I really love Bruce Nauman, and I really enjoy this sentence.

Will Lakey - Week Four - Statement Revisited

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Antony Lakey: Artists Statement: Revisited.

I am a painter. I am not dead. Painting is not dead either. It may however be appropriately described as undead since it has been declared dead so many times. I paint on rubbish. I know you would throw it away but I like that it includes a sense of the domestic and everyday in my work, and then people see how much I really like cornflakes and where I bank. It is also cheap, and easy to store, and a cereal packet isn't as demanding as canvas, that diva of art materials. I reproduce what catches my eye. I want to record these brief points of contact between myself and the fluid cacophony of contemporary life. The few images in the maelstrom that make me pause, get saved. In the process of reproduction I study them, and give more time to a part of myself. I am concerned with the social experience. We exist within an intense whirlwind of images, sound, and ideas. I try to reflect this multitude, many layered existence and the way we select and discard and intermix. I paint in oil. Old as the dinosaurs (of art). Ever since I first used it I have been in love with its many characters and tolerance. Originally I laid it on thick, but now I spread it in thin transparent washes that let the light reflect back through from the surface underneath. I hang my work in installations. Groups of paintings and drawings clustered together. I like the encompassing experience that allows me to control the context of the display. I can reflect the modern human experience as well as the small personalities that fight within it. I hang my work on wire. Like washing on a line, it hangs looking slightly rumpled and pushed up against its peers, but like the clothes on a washing line you might see in the mass the shape of the person it is meant to surround. I sometimes draw on the wall. I want my pictures to look like they are hung in front of a window, but I choose the view. I like to resist the 'white cube' of the modern gallery that could be in any street, in any city. My work has a context and I want to give the viewer a way to see it. I work quickly. I rarely take more than an hour to make a painting. This forces me to 'paraphrase' the image into my own style and reveal my attentions. My pictures come out light with the drawing intact. The viewer can see the lines and brush marks and me. I draw freehand. No projection or grids. This surprises people. I don't shade or hatch, I leave that effect to the paint. I mix the colours and test them on a scrap sheet. I thin the paint with mineral spirits and some medium to maintain the paint film. I brush the colour onto the surface, sometimes I have to dab with a rag to prevent it dripping. Sometimes I make the colour darker then wipe it back to create highlights. Other times I add another darker layer on top to create shadows. I add the date. I like to feel the presence of an artist when I look at their work. I loved seeing Egon Schiele's fingerprints when I looked at one of his paintings, I felt like I was sharing a space with him. The date provides a similar point of contact. I like the possibility that a viewer might remember what they were doing the day I made an image. In the UK I wrote it numerically: day/month/year. However, to avoid confusion, now that I am in the US, I am writing it like this: 25th Sept 2012 (todays date). I listen to music when I work. The headphones isolate me into a world of just me and my painting. What I listen to depends on how I am feeling, but usually includes dancy/pop/rock, stuff with a good beat. Examples include Lady Gaga, LMFAO, Kiss, Guns n' Roses, Fleetwood Mac, and Eagles of Death Metal. I feel light on my feet and energised when I am in this cocoon with my art-in-progress. Everything else fades out. I have stopped making myself a cup of tea before I start a painting, it always gets forgotten and goes cold (a heinous crime). I don't make a mess. Apart from a few pencil shavings. I used to make a terrible mess but somehow now I don't. I have stopped worrying about what I wear when I paint because it is no longer an issue. It seems that as my work has got looser my technique has become more controlled. I like it when the viewer gets right up close to my work. They are sharing the space I occupied when I made it.

Will Lakey - Week Four - Exhibition Catalogues

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(My apologies if the pdf files display sideways, my computer is fighting me on this.)

Luc Tuymans - Retratos y vegetacion

Luc Tuymans cover.pdf

Luc Tuymans Mayor.pdf

Luc Tuymans Director.pdf

A catalogue for the first Spanish solo exhibition of Luc Tuymans work. In spanish with a translation at the back. Lots of full colour reproductions of the work in the show.

Opens with an intro by the Mayor of Malaga, where the exhibition is being held, he strangely (to my thinking) gives a brief overview of the artists work. It seems a little cut and paste. I don't see why the Mayor feels the need to go into "detail" about Tuymans practice, especially in such a trite and definitive way.

This is followed by some writing by the Director of the gallery. This is very broad and speaks in generalities. Much like the mayor he seems to be repeating the approved history of Tuymans, as well as name dropping other artists in lieu of contextualisation and possibly, it seems to me, to raise the profile of Tuymans among a public that may not be familiar with him.

The texts end with a slightly obscure essay that looks at historical Spanish royal portraits and velasquez and links/compares them to Tuymans. I think this is an attempt to segway into the exhibition and provide an historical anchor in the form of Velaquez. I could be cynical (ok, I will be cynical) and say this is an effort to ward off traditionalist criticism of Tuymans style by providing art historical approval of Tuymans in the form of a distinguished ancestry.

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Richard Prince - Exhibition of works from the Goetz Collection

Richard Prince Cover.pdf

Richard Prince Repro.pdf

Richard Prince txt 1.pdf

Richard Prince txt 2.pdf

A catalogue for a sort of retrospective exhibition of Richard Prince's work. It contains reproductions from across the artists career as well as textual work by the artist and two essays. One by the implied author/editor of the catalogue Rainald Schumacher, and one by the director of an arts institute in San Francisco. The exhibition was held at the Goetz Collection in Munich, Germany, and so the texts are in both German and English.

The catalogue starts with images and it is not until page 12 that we find any text, this is just a short explanation of the aims of the exhibition and acknowledgements. I appreciate a catalogue that lets the images come first. In some ways I see a catalogue as being a substitute for the exhibition, or a reminder after the event, and so giving the viewer/reader a look at the work on show makes sense and primes them for the essays.

The essay by Rainald Schumacher is comprised of several types of writing. There are short analysis' of selected works which give information without closing the subject down. They reference the movements and concepts that can be linked to the work as well as giving some explanation about the content of the image. The brief nature does mean that there is little depth of explanation.

Also included are broader texts which are more biographical and include quotes from the artist as well as descriptions of the works. These texts approach the work from a variety of angles, focussing on different elements of the artists output as well as using the artist to illustrate a broader concept. In the 5th part of his essay he even considers his own role in writing the essay for the catalogue, which is a nice addition.

I feel this catalogue is a successful one. It maintains the primacy of the art and provides a wide variety of writing to appeal to a broad cross section of the potential audience. It offers direct considerations of specific artworks in the show as well as expanding on the background of the artist and his oeuvre. The artworks are reproduced whole and with extracted details. All round a successful retrospective catalogue.

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I also found this page online from an old auction catalogue and thought it was entertaining.

Catalogue one-old auction page.pdf

This page provides comments on the artwork up for auction that offer little or no description. Mostly just entertaining.

Josh, Week 4, New Artist Statement

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Personal context influences my creative practice through reflexive observation within my immediate environment. The mundane, spectacular, and irregular aspects of everyday routine find a significant role within my process to investigate anything that tickles my fancy. As an artist that finds he working in a space (a studio) provided by an academic form of the art world, my relationship with this space and the things done in the space become linked to said context. Examining the role of an artist, as an artist, celebrates the open nature of the creative process. Art that talks to art about how fascinating, stupid, smart, clever, ironic, sad, happy, nostalgic, confrontational, dark, light, and limitless it is.
My artistic practice utilizes the transformative qualities of creative exploration to closely examine the nature of my identity as an artist through an in depth analysis of the objects, subjects, and actions present in my day-to-day. When something is done in the studio, the context is transmuted into an isolated experience between the artist and the idea or work. This broad framework remains personal and honest in an attempt to refrain from overly fetishizing an end result (art product); this emphasis on the role of the artist does not aim to glorify it but to examine, manipulate, and have fun with it.
Stressing routine and an extreme interest in repetition and patterning lends to printmaking media. Repetition in repetition: this endless idea is all at once soothing and overwhelming. It also manipulates context through duplication. For instance, the change from unique to multiple highlights a value shift, but my practice embraces the concept of the copy on multiple levels. I beg, borrow, and steal. Embezzlement of images, ideas, and words feeds my process with a nourished infatuation with other artists, but also the use or negation of multiplicity in my own works finds significance in my creative procedure. The use of found crocheted materials created through the repetitive and patterned weaving of fibers, as well as the historic passing of the skill between generations, as a print base supplies a continuous repetition of form and concept.

In my surrounding environment, the personal environmental impact of my creative practice, through reflexive observed. Mundane, spectacular daily routine irregular funny I like to find a significant role in the course of my investigation. Art world as an artist, found him in a space (studio) academic form, the relationship between this space and things to do in the space becomes the environment. Examining the role as an artist's artist, to celebrate the opening up of the creative process. Art, the art of negotiation about how fascinating, silly, smart, clever, ironically, sad, happy, nostalgic, confrontational, dark, light, and unlimited.
Take advantage of changes in the quality of my artistic practice, creative exploration, double-check my identity as an artist through the in-depth analysis of the object disciplinary nature, in my day-to-day actions. When the thing to do in the studio, the context between the idea of the artist or the work is transformed into an isolated experience. This broad framework is still personal and honest, try to avoid too blind fascination with the final result (art products), this emphasis on the role of the artist is not intended to beautify it, check processing, and it's fun.
Stressed the program and a great deal of interest in repetition and patterns suited to printmaking media. Repeat repeat: endless ideas in a soothing and overriding. It also manipulate the background, by repeating. For example, the value of the unique highlights shift change, but I practice contains a copy of the concept of multi-level. I beg, borrow, and steal. The image of corruption, philosophy, and textual information in the process, with the significance of the nourish fascination with other artists, but also to use or deny the diversity found in their own works, in my creative process. Crochet material through repetition and pattern woven fibers, as well as historic by generations between skills, as the use of the printmaking base provides a form of repeated and concepts.

Observe my surroundings, personal impact on the environment of my creative practice through reflexive. Ordinary, become a spectacular day-to-day irregular interesting, in the course of my investigation, I like to find a significant role. The art world as an artist, found him in a space (studio) the relationship between the academic form, space and space activities become environment. Examining the role of an artist's artist, open to celebrate the creative process. Negotiations art, how charming, stupid, smart, clever, ironically, sad, happy, nostalgic, confrontational, dark, light, and unlimited artistic.
Take advantage of changes in the quality of my artistic practice, creative exploration, check my identity as an artist, in-depth analysis of the object-disciplinary nature, in my day-to-day actions. When things do in the studio, the context between the ideas of artists or works as an isolated experience. Broad framework, is still personal and honest, try to avoid too fetishizing End Results (art) the role of the artist, this emphasis does not intend to beautify, check processing, it's fun.
Stressing the program and a lot of repetition and patterns suitable for printmaking media interest. Repeat repeat: endless ideas in soothing and overwhelming. It also manipulate the background, by repeating. For example, the unique highlights shift the value of change, but I practice contains a copy of the multi-level concept. I beg, borrow, and steal. Image corruption, philosophy, and the process of text information, and nourish the significance of the charm of the other artists, also found in the diversity of their own works, or refuse to use my creative process. Crochet materials and skills through repetition and pattern of non-woven fibers, as well as the long history between the generations, as the use of the printmaking base some form of repeated and concepts.

Reading Week 4: Lynne Tillman, This is Not It

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Reading Week 4: Louise Bourgeois: Life as Art

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Reading Week 4: From Here to There: Alec Soth's America

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Reading Week 4: Yves Klein With Full Power, The Voice

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Label: Lorena Molina

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Koyi, since you were handed down to me when I was 17, I've been trying to figure out your purpose. I figure you don't have to worry about your own purpose, dogs don't usually worry about such trivial things such as definitions. Orange, 5 pound with one testicle dog. Fluffy head, short legs. What do you do with your day? What does time mean to you? I figure time is something you do not have to worry about as well. Time just is. You spend your days loudly snoring your life away, yet your snores soothe me to sleep. I've come accustomed to the vibrations caused by your nasal passage that is always partially blocked. Your kisses stink of meat residue. They smell like thirteen years of a dog life. Your aching missing teeth make your tongue stick out to the right when you're sleeping. I wish you could see yourself sometimes. Your begging eyes pierce me. You needy whines I could do without. Oh dog of mine. Sweet companion that waits so patiently for me to come home. You do not need a definition or purpose to be. You just are. And yet here it is.

Kevin O, Week 3 - Label the World

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"Dykes Do Drag"

Cabaret-style performance series, quarterly at the Bryant Lake Bowl Theatre

The stage is tiny and the audience is almost always crammed in, filling the modest space, so that it's too hot in the summer and in the winter - in the winter they open the doors between acts to let the cool air in and the temperature fluctuates erratically all night.

It starts at 10 PM and rarely runs under two and a half hours, in five minute increments, pop song vignettes with elaborate staging, performers returning again and again and again in all configurations of drag, broad slapstick clowns or extremely convincing, subtly formulated characterizations.

As often as not, a whole narrative world is created within a few minutes, the audience laughs and hoots, the fourth wall is shattered again and again, everyone sweats together and shivers, real terrible and beautiful voices sing, bare body parts flap all over the stage, and finally it all comes to an end and audience and performers alike stagger homewards, exhausted, to recuperate in time to do it again tomorrow.

Mara: Label Week 3

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Standing at the bus stop

In this exhilarating moment my entire body seizes, my skin prickled and goose bumped, my eyes water and pooled tears spill over, my nose tingles as cool air washes over me in an on rush of wind and fills my nostrils and lungs. Breathing in and out, my lips stick together. I pull my lips in, moistening them and feel a quick sharp cold sensation on my wet mouth. The air is sweet and refreshing. Bundled in my heavy wool coat I feel my skin shiver against the slick silk lining. Shoulders hunched, seeking warmth inside myself. Icy fingers dart inside shallow, scratchy woolen pockets. Gusts of wind pick up as noisy cars pass by; the vibration on the pavement sends a deep pulse through my legs. I love to feel my whole being affected. I shiver as sensations wash over me simultaneous warmth and currents of cold. My arms cloaked in layers as my feet feel a slight tinge of cold. After this revelry I realize...true cold has not even arrived and everyone around me is seemingly unaffected in sweaters and light jackets.

Kevin O, Week 3, Artist Statements: Research

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Béla Tarr

Right at the center of a seemingly incomprehensible world, at the age of 32, the question "why do I make films" seems unanswerable. I don't know.

All I know is that I can't make films if people don't let me. If I don't receive trust and funding I feel like I don't exist. The last one-and-a-half to two years of my life went by in just such a state of apparent futility - I was given no opportunities to realize my plans through the official channels. Two courses of action were left open to me: to gradually suffocate or search for some alternative. Then followed a terrible year of begging for money and trying to discover whether it's even possible to make a different type of film in Hungary, one that doesn't depend on the official and traditional sources of funding. And once the money's finally all there and I've managed to create some small opportunity, kidding myself that I'm "independent," that's when it hits me that there's no such thing as independence or freedom, only money and politics. You can never escape anything. Those who give you money also threaten you. All that remains is obligation. The film has to be made. Then you desperately clutch onto the camera, as if it were the last custodian of the truth that you had supposed existed. But what to film if everything is a lie? All I can be is an apologist for lies, treachery and dishonor.

But in that case, why make films?

This also leads to internal conflicts, as my self-confidence wanes, the crew start to leave because the venture appears uncertain and I can't pay them enough. And I am left with a general feeling of anxiety. So I flee from this form of desperation into another - the film.

Probably, I make films in order to tempt fate, to simultaneously be the most humiliated and, if only for a few moments, the freest person in the world. Because I despise stories, as they mislead people into believing that something has happened. In fact, nothing really happens as we flee from one condition to another. Because today there are only states of being - all stories have become obsolete and cliched, and have resolved themselves. All that remains is time. This is probably the only thing that's still genuine - time itself: the years, days, hours, minutes and seconds. And film time has also ceased to exist, since the film itself has ceased to exist. Luckily there is no authentic form or current fashion. Some kind of massive introversion, a searching of our own souls can help ease the situation.

Or kill us.

We could die of not being able to make films, or we could die from making films.

But there's no escape.

Because films are our only means of authenticating our lives. Eventually nothing remains of us except our films - strips of celluloid on which our shadows wander in search of truth and humanity until the end of time.

I really don't know why I make films.

Perhaps to survive, because I'd still like to live, at least just a little longer....

ANALYSIS

This rings true for me on several levels, and I like it because it was written early in his career, at age 32 - I saw the Regis Dialogue with Bela Tarr a few years ago and I think that his character comes through quite eloquently in his films, and that I can see both the continuity of his attitude over the course of 30+ years, and also some universal truths about the frustrated young(-ish) art filmmaker.


Albert Maysles

Why

As a documentarian I happily place my fate and faith in reality. It is my caretaker, the provider of subjects, themes, experiences--all endowed with the power of truth and the romance of discovery. And the closer I adhere to reality the more honest and authentic my tales. After all, knowledge of the real world is exactly what we need to better understand and therefore possibly to love one another. It's my way of making the world a better place.

How

1. Distance oneself from a point of view.
2. Love your subjects.
3. Film events, scenes, sequences; avoid interviews, narration, a host.
4. Work with the best talent.
5. Make it experiential, film experience directly, unstaged, uncontrolled.
6.There is a connection between reality and truth. Remain faithful to both.

Some Do's and Dont's

• Hold it steady.
• Use manual zoom, not the electronic.
• Read as much of the PD 170 manual as you can.
• Read book or chapter in a photography book on how to compose shots.
• Use the steady device that's in the camera.
• Never use a tripod (exception: filming photographs, for example).
• You'll get a steadier picture the more wide-angle the shot. In a walking shot go very wide angle.
• Hold the beginning and end of each shot. The editor will need that.
• Use no lights. The available light is more authentic.
• Learn the technique but equally important keep your eye open to watch the significant moment. Orson Welles: "The cameraman's camera should have behind its lens the eye of a poet."
• Remember, as a documentarian you are an observer, an author but not a director, a discoverer, not a controller.
• Don't worry that your presence with the camera will change things. Not if you're confident you belong there and understand that in your favor is that of the two instincts, to disclose or to keep a secret, the stronger is to disclose.
• It's not "fly-on-the-wall". That would be mindless. You need to establish rapport even without saying so but through eye contact and empathy.

ANALYSIS

This no-nonsense, stripped-down, matter-of-fact approach absolutely matches, in my experience, the aesthetics and the priorities of the Maysles Brothers in their documentaries.


Lars Von Trier


I CONFESS

Seemingly all is well: Film director Lars von Trier is a scientist, artist, and human being. And yet I say: I am a human being. But I'm an artist. But I'm a film director.

I cry as I write these lines, for how sham was my attitude. Who am I to lecture and chastise? Who am I to scornfully brush aside other people's lives and work? My shame is only compounded by my apology that I had been seduced by the arrogance of science falling to the ground as a lie! For it is true that I have been trying to intoxicate myself in a cloud of sophistries about the purpose of art and the artist's obligations, that I have thought up ingenious theories on the anatomy and the nature of film, but--and I confess this openly--I have never come close to disguising my innermost passion with this pathetic smoke screen: MY CARNAL DESIRE.

Our relationship with film can be described and explained in many ways. We should make films with the intention to educate, we may want to use film as a ship that will take us on a journey to unknown lands, or we can claim that the goal of our films is to make the audience laugh or cry, and pay. This may all sound plausible, but I do not believe in it.

There is only one excuse for living through--and forcing others to live through--the hell of the filmmaking process: the carnal satisfaction in that fraction of a second when the cinema's loudspeakers and projector in unison and inexplicably give rise to the illusion of motion and sound like an electron leaving its orbit and thus creating light, in order to create ONLY ONE THING--a miraculous breath of life! This is the filmmaker's only reward, hope, and craving. This carnal experience when movie magic really works, rushing through the body like a quivering orgasm . . . It is my quest for this experience that has always been and always will be behind all my work and efforts . . . NOTHING ELSE! There, I've written it, and it felt good. And forget all the bogus explanations about "childlike fascination" and "all-encompassing humility." For here is my confession: LARS VON TRIER, A SIMPLE MASTURBATOR OF THE SILVER SCREEN.

Still, in part three of the trilogy, Europa, I have not made even the slightest attempt at a diversion. Purity and clarity have been achieved at last! Here nothing conceals reality under a sickly layer of "art" . . . No trick is too tacky, no device too cheap, no effect too tasteless.

JUST GIVE ME A SINGLE TEAR OR ONE DROP OF SWEAT; I WILL GLADLY GIVE YOU ALL THE WORLD'S "ART" IN RETURN.

One final word. Let only God judge my alchemic attempts at creating life on celluloid. One thing is certain. Life outside the cinema can never be equaled, for it is his creation and therefore divine.

ANALYSIS

This is utterly lovely - it was written pre-Dogme 95, also relatively early in Von Trier's career and on the brink of his international reputation as a filmmaker. It's totally overwrought and melodramatic and repressed, reflecting his directorial sensibilities quite accurately.

Mara: Artist's Statement Research

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Erin Paradis, Week 3, Artist Statements: research

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Brian Jones

"My current work lies in my interest in the investigation of the transformative character of memories. In particular, I am thinking of pots that belonged to my grandmother. A remembrance of a jar, cup, and plate serves as the point of departure for contemplation of form, color, and tone. The nature of how a pot reveals itself over time to an audience is the long echo of that initial reverie. The pot is both a reservoir and an initiator of memories.

The convention that a pot is "complete" after it has been fired is something that I am working to subvert by the addition of other materials following the glaze firing. Ways of questioning a pot's function, both as an object and a narrative element, naturally arise as different materials are composed to create new layers. This juxtaposition complicates the reading of the work, slowing the comprehension and experience of what may appear to be a simple object. The pot's domestic surroundings, the casual way in which it is constructed, and its surface against that of another material give the work a constructed and contemplative significance that will divulge its identity over time."

Analysis:
In Brian Jones' artist statement, he is very direct and too the point when he explains the motives of his work. He sets the stage for where his interest in functional ceramics comes from, the ideas behind his pots, and the importance he thinks pots have in the world. He doesn't leave much room for you to question what kind of functional work he makes and for what reasons.

I think he could go into more detail about the other materials he uses and to what function they have with his pots. Without seeing his work, I don't think you would know what he is discussing when he talks about the "juxtaposition of the new layers" in his work. It is unclear how his concepts are translated to this other form without seeing his work.

Knowing his work though, you can understand and more clearly see the function of his wall pieces. You can tell why he seems to be so abstract and simplified with his shapes and colors.

In any case, even though his ideas are not too involved, he explains the reasons for the concepts and the way his work supports them.


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Nina Rizzo

" 'Rizzo's paintings are equal part fact and fiction. Using her direct experience with a place, event or object as a catalyst, she abstracts, invents and explores new realities in painted space and form. Rizzo imagines places unseen or hybrid spaces, creating a world that is full of wonder and possibility. Her use of exaggerated color, fluid brush strokes, and spatial ambiguities reveal sensual environments where interiors and exteriors collide and our notion of reality is questioned.' -Stephanie McMahon"

Analysis:
The description of Rizzo's paintings is very accurate and demonstrates the effect she desires from her paintings. The wording is ideal when matched with her work as well. The statement starts to create a visual of her pieces and where she is getting her inspiration.

As well as her work is described, I think it would work better if it was from her perspective and give a clue into her own thoughts and inspirations. I think personal artist statements are more successful. You get a clue into the thoughts of the artist and it is where you see their excitement about their medium and their art. I appreciate her work and how it has changed and evolved over time, but her statement would be much more successful if she explained her ideas and interests in her own words,.

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(I apologize about the centering of the image. I tried every position choice and it still wouldn't come up centered! -Erin)

Emily Schroeder

Elements of touch, intimacy and mark making are extremely important to the work that I make. I create subtle forms on which I draw imagery that is sensitive to how each pot was touched and formed. An aspect unique to my work is that every movement and gesture is marked and recorded on the surface of my pots. I have chosen this rather slow and tedious process of pinching because I believe that pinching pots instead of throwing them on a wheel or building them with slabs creates a different type of intimacy. I see my fingerprints as a sort of brush stroke. In the way that a painter paints a canvas and creates a certain sensibility in the image, I create an intimacy in my work by the way that my fingers touch the clay. Human presence and the mark of the hand are important to my work, which steps back to a time where work isn't about production, but the touch of a fingertip.

Analysis:

Emily Schroeder's artist statement is clear and to the point. She explains the reasons she makes her pots the way she does, why she is intrigued by that way of working, and the importance these ideas hold in her eyes. She sets the tone for what the work looks like and must feel like. I appreciate her ability to talk about why her work stands out and is special. The way she presents it isn't presumptuous or boastful. If there's a way an artist can talk about their art and explain why it is important to the world in a humble way, I think it is important to present this in an artist statement.

I think out of all three artists I chose, she clearly states every aspect of her process and her ideas clearly and concisely. There is no room for wonder or misunderstanding in her statement.

Erin Paradis, Week 2, Intentions

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My objectives for my MFA are to have extensive progression in my work, solidifying my ideas and my processes. I would like to investigate further the relationship between my sculptural ideas and how they relate to my functional pots. It is very important and pertinent to me to have these two forms of working, and having the time in a program like this to fully explore both ways of creating is exciting. I want to take advantage of this time and the resources I now have to help me work through my thoughts with out much limitation. Having some barriers in the way to access tools like a table saw or receiving a critique from a professional in the past, I want to be in touch with what is offered to me here. Not just as the U of M but Minneapolis.
I would also like to develop my voice in talking about and writing about art. There is much for me to work on and I would like to better articulate myself when it comes to discussions, critiques, and writings.
Establishing myself with in the ceramics community even further is also a goal of mine. I would obviously like to do that with my work but also with the skills I would like to learn to become a professor and teacher. Even if I don't end up in an academic setting, I would like to learn the tools to put me in a position at a residency program or other artistic program.

Lorena Molina: Artist Research

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Elinor Carucci:

Website

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Statement

This is the only statement I could find about Carucci talking about her work. This is of the series Closer. Sorry this is long.

My mother was the first person I ever photographed and I still take pictures of her obsessively. Quite literally, in more than one way, she was - she is - my natural point of origin. My connection to the world. I used to think that the struggles with her, as well as the sense of closeness, security and warmth, the whole way I related to her during childhood, would somehow naturally end with the end of childhood. Perhaps they were transformed, elevated to other levels. But in many ways, they never lost their power over me.

I started taking pictures of her when I was fifteen. I used my father's old Canon camera. Gradually, in concentric circles, the subjects of my work expanded. From my mother, to my father and brother, to the extended family, until, in recent years, the center shifted, at least partially, to my husband, Eran. I no longer see my mother only as a strong person, she is no longer my only source of security, of power, of beauty, but I do measure my own femininity, my own self, as a distance from her. When she prepared me for the world, she showed me the world through her eyes. It was, or is, a long process. When I was twenty-two she put lipstick on my lips, her lipstick. This was one of many things that were both, somehow, continuity and separation. My own femininity, yet always drawing on hers. Oddly I still felt her lipstick would somehow protect me. But this closeness was, in a way, also what enabled me to move away, to enlarge the circles of both life and work, and finally to shift much of the focus to Eran, even to myself. The camera was, in this sense, both a way to get close, and to

break free. It was a testimony to independence as well as a new way to relate. A boundary, a distance, as well as the documentation of closeness. I could see my mother, my husband, my father, at once in a detached and a related way. In the first few years I was mostly intuitive, even impulsive, in the way I shot. After a while, however, I tried to turn to what I thought of then as more professional photography. I began shooting series of black and white pictures, my mother and myself as their subjects. They were structured, posed: Mother looked too ready to be in a photograph, well prepared, presenting herself to me. It's not that we weren't candid or open. We were, and we did try to recreate real scenes, actual situations. But something was missing. I didn't like what came out. I stopped, took a break for a few months.

When I returned to photography -- I was about twenty-one years old then -- I took one step back. I stopped trying to recreate, stage, things that happened, in a controlled way. Rather, I tried to do what I did when I first started: shoot things as they were happening. I began to work in color too which is, for me, warmer, more vivid. I gave no advance warning, required no cooperation, shot in quantity. Snapped, developed, looked at the results, and over again. For the most part it was still my mother and myself, but working intensively, and instinctively, everyone who was intertwined in our lives - my father, my brother Pinni, Eran, my grandparents, my cousins - all were drawn in. The frame became flexible and hospitable. Things I had previously considered marginal drifted to the center and often became themes in their own right. Ironically, the closer I got to the details, the more I zoomed in the more universal the themes turned out to be. Moving in turned out to be moving out. Work on minute details - a mark on the skin, a stitch, a hair, an eye, a kiss - carried the work beyond the boundaries of my family.

The presence of the camera too became more familiar, more relaxed. Still, it generated, not just documented, situations. Not because it had a personality, but because it aroused an attitude. By the very fact of documenting, the image competed with its object, showed it in a different, yet not at all false, light. It's like facing a mirror: when you look into it, you tighten your face muscles slightly, change your expression. I found myself and my family discovering more about ourselves, or at least, discovering nuances we couldn't otherwise see. Sometimes, the photographs came before I could articulate what it was that triggered them, giving form to some unformed feeling. More than that, the camera sometimes dares say what I don't dare think. These lines, between what I thought I saw in life, what I saw in the photographs, what I thought I saw in the photographs, became confusing in many ways. Like a permanent double take, I was not always sure if something - a mood, a sigh, a frown - captured an actual event, or if I was imposing on my memory a fraction the camera had caught. It often feels like I have two, parallel sets of memory. And yet, as complicated as the relations between representation and life may be, I do trust the camera, and what it captured is,

in many ways, real. The camera is, in fact, often less biased than my eyes. And since it preserves something from life - It would not otherwise be valuable for me - it is also a record. When I have something in a photograph, I feel like it is safe from time, I feel like I can also part with it. It gives me the illusion of having the actual past for safekeeping.

The work was never a burden for my family. As revealing as it might be, I never subscribed to the idea of art over life. Certainly in my relationship with them. That is not to say there are never any temptations. I caught myself once, when my father was ill, in bed with high temperature, running for the camera. I stopped. These would be too alienated. Too alienating. Both in terms of human relations, and in terms of art. It is the temptation of the provocative and the vulgar and I try to resist it. Then there is also the relationship between art and life that can't be preserved, as I see it, if my photographs become too intruding. They thrive on intimacy and can't afford to undermine it. I can't show intimacy in any general way, if there is such a thing as general intimacy. I can only say something universal about intimacy through actual intimacy. Mine. The actual real relationships I have with specific people. With these people that I love. The deepest I can reach is within what is most familiar and close. And so I set limits. I don't pounce on my mother when she's waking up. Don't get the camera when I have a fight with Eran. Don't stand aside to document when someone is crying. In many ways, they not only helped me. They became part of the work to such an extent that I can't consider it only as my own. It is, truly, also theirs.

Elinor Carucci

My analysis:

The first time I saw Carucci's work. The work resonated with me, and stuck around like a splinter. I knew the work too well. This is the work that if I was brave enough, I would make. Enforcing some sort of intimacy comes easy to me when it comes to strangers. Everybody wants to be listened to, everybody wants somebody to notice them, to pay attention and to care. I care for them and know how to ask the right kind of questions and share the right amount of myself. Our intimacy although enforced, it is true for the short time being. For some hours, for a night; the safety that we probably won't see each other again is too comforting. They can open up to me and tell me everything, because they know I'm safe, I don't know their friends, girlfriends, boyfriends and family. Yet, intimacy with the people close to you, especially family can be arduous, problematic, complicated; especially when the relationships carry a baggage of their own. Unresolved feelings photograph too well. Carucci's work to me brings the vulnerability, closeness, chaos, rawness, beauty, ugliness, softness, hardness, and everything else that comes with intimate relationships. Her images are the punctum that Barthes describes in Camera Lucida; The photos prick me.

As silly as it may sound, her photos make me envious of her photographic relationship with her mother. In her website's statement about the series Closer, Carucci mentions her relationship with her mother from her first paragraph. "My mother was the first person I ever photographed and I still take pictures of her obsessively. Quite literally, in more than one way, she was - she is - my natural point of origin. My connection to the world. I used to think that the struggles with her, as well as the sense of closeness, security and warmth, the whole way I related to her during childhood, would somehow naturally end with the end of childhood. Perhaps they were transformed, elevated to other levels. But
in many ways, they never lost their power over me." She continues to write about her relationship with her mother, quite sentimentally, and not as straight to the point or academically, as the artist statements I am used to reading. However, I think the artist statements are to serve the purpose that the artist wants it to serve. What I mean by this is that if her photographs are about human relationships and aim to photograph some kind of sentimentality, why would her artist statement be overly rigid and emotionless? She is the only one to decide which kind of writing suits her images best.

She questions the veracity of her photos like semiotics would do or the deconstructionists or Susan Sontag would do. She yet defends the trueness of the photographs and claims that the camera might see more than she's capable of understanding. "By the very fact of documenting, the image competed with its object, showed it in a different, yet not at all false, light. It's like facing a mirror: when you look into it, you tighten your face muscles slightly, change your expression. I found myself and my family discovering more about ourselves, or at least, discovering nuances we couldn't otherwise see...as complicated as the relations between representation and life may be, I do trust the camera, and what it captured is, in many ways, real. The camera is, in fact, often less biased than my eyes. And since it preserves something from life - It would not otherwise be valuable for me - it is also a record. When I have something in a photograph, I feel like it is safe from time." I might disagree with her stance on photography photographing the real, yet true and honesty are not the same. Her photographs seem honest to me, and so does her writing about them.

My favorite part about her statement is when she states " They (the photographs) thrive on intimacy and can't afford to undermine it. I can't show intimacy in any general way, if there is such a thing as general intimacy. I can only say something universal about intimacy through actual intimacy. Mine. The actual real relationships I have with specific people. With these people that I love. The deepest I can reach is within what is most familiar and close" -Is it intimacy if you're not truly risking something about yourself? I think this portrayed really well in her photographs.

Duane Michals

It was difficult to find an artist statement for Duane Michals. Everything written about him since to be written in biography form such as that states accomplishments and backgrounds. I found a good paragrah at the Pace/McGill Gallery summery about his work.

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Analysis

Duane Michals was the first photographer to create a permanent influence in the way I see photography. His work questioned the medium of photography and it's ability to photograph any kind of truth. He did this in a time that photographers were getting recognition from their photo essays in Time Magazine. He is interested in photographing the things that he thinks photography lacks the capacity to photograph, such as human emotions, metaphysics, philosophical questions about life and death, desire, and relationships. One of his famous quotes that he likes to repeat in lectures states, "The best part of us is not what we see, it's what we feel. We are what we feel. We are not what we look at . . .. We're not our eyeballs, we're our mind. People believe their eyeballs and they're totally wrong . . .. That's why I consider most photographs extremely boring--just like Muzak, inoffensive, charming, another waterfall, another sunset. This time, colors have been added to protect the innocent. It's just boring. But that whole arena of one's experience--grief, loneliness--how do you photograph lust? I mean, how do you deal with these things? This is what you are, not what you see. It's all sitting up here. I could do all my work sitting in my room. I don't have to go anywhere"
Michals' work sometimes in sequence, using narrative and texts written to provide other layer of complicity to the images is usually either poetic, humorous or tends to ask complex questions. I agree with the statement given by the gallery that the text is not there to provide an explanation, rather to further complicate things. "Rather than serving a didactic or explanatory function, his handwritten text adds another dimension to his images' meaning and gives voice to Michal's singular musings" I think the small paragraph provided by the gallery sums up very well his work in such short words. It's precise and to the point.

Sophie Calle

Take care of Yourself

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Statement:

I received an email telling me it was over.
I didn't know how to respond.
It was almost as if it hadn't been meant for me.
It ended with the words, "Take care of yourself."
And so I did.
I asked 107 women (including two made from wood and one with feathers),
chosen for their profession or skills, to interpret this letter.
To analyze it, comment on it, dance it, sing it.
Dissect it.  Exhaust it.  Understand it for me.
Answer for me.
It was a way of taking the time to break up.
A way of taking care of myself.

Analysis

Sophie Calle's work to me plays between the lines of curiosity, admiration, longing and voyeurism. The use of her personal life, intimate moments, and honest curiosity about the subjects she chooses to investigate show in the text she writes along her photographs. I find her curiosity for closeness genuine. Sometimes, there seems to be no distinction where her life and her investigation for art begins. This is the case for, Take care of Yourself, where she asked 107 women to help her understand her break up letter that she received through email. Her statement for the series is short and explains the reason of the project and how it was done. It is short and poetic in explaining the viewer what he/she is about to see. The statement doesn't seem to need that much explanation because of the amount of writing and video that happens at the exhibition. This is all the viewer needs to know to understand. It answers the questions to, "This is what I'm doing" and "This is how I'm doing it."

Emily, Week 3: Label

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A meditation on the soundtrack of my day
(or, "when did you forget to pay attention?")

I think I stopped noticing them years ago, the creaks in my wooden floors. They groan the same groans when I walk the same paths I walk every day, from the stairs to the kitchen to the table to the door. They say "why is it so cold in here," and "when was the last time you swept," "I hope there's something to eat in this house," and "are you forgetting anything?" And I seldom hear the leaves this time of year, whispering high on my ancient flame-tinged red oak that I used to admire so fervently. They now ask "shouldn't you be outside?" and "why aren't you getting ready for winter?" The kids on the street still shriek when the ice cream truck makes a pass, or holler over some basketball offense, but I forget to look up and smile inside. I sit instead, staring hard at some words someone somewhere once wrote, and wait for the old whistle-less kettle to boil, for the black Bakelite handle to clank to one side and wonder "how many cups of coffee is this again?"

Emily, Week 3: Research Statements

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Will Lakey - week three - Research Statement

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Peter Doig

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Statement:
I sometimes wish I had never had to sell a painting. Every painting you make represents the time it was made and how you were feeling and what your influences were. It represents a stage in your development and in that sense, it is unique. You are never going to feel that way again, so you can never repeat it. Because the paintings represent so much, I do sometimes wish I still had them.

I started painting this idea of landscape in London via my memories of Canada, but that didn't happen for a long time, not until I'd been in London for almost ten years. And they were filtered through found images. It was an escape to make these paintings in London, because what was outside the door was so different. The work became a different world. I guess that's always the case, but this was the excitement, trying to find this other place in my head. In Trinidad, the landscape is so present and powerful; it's everywhere, even in Port of Spain. I'd experienced this growing up in Canada, and here it hit me again.

Response:
Although he doesn't offer any formal descriptions of his work, these statements express well his underlying ideas and feelings(at least at this point in his life). It is successful at creating a sense of his movements, and nostalgia for past lives, and I believe would enable someone who was about to look at his work from this time to get a better engagement. I like the way he describes his relationship to the work, it creates a sense of a very personal artistic experience. It fails to offer any theoretical context which would be useful for understanding him contextually, but that also makes it more accessible. I would appreciate more information on his process.

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Marlene Dumas

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Statement:

Woman and Painting
1
I paint because I am a woman.
(It's a logical necessity.)
If painting is female and insanity is a female malady, then all women painters are mad and all male painters are women.
2
I paint because I am an artificial blonde woman.
(Brunettes have no excuse.)
If all good painting is about colour then bad painting is about having the wrong colour. But bad things can be good excuses. As Sharon Stone said: 'Being blonde is a great excuse. When you're having a bad day you can say, I can't help it, I'm just feeling blonde today.'
3
I paint because I am a country girl.
(Clever, talented big-city girls don't paint.)
I grew up on a wine farm in southern Africa. When I was a child I drew bikini girls for male guests on the back of their cigarette packs. Now I am a mother and I live in another place that reminds me a lot of a farm - Amsterdam. (It's a good place for painters.) Come to think about it, I'm still busy with those types of images and imagination.
4
I paint because I am a religious woman.
(I believe in eternity.)
Painting doesn't freeze time. It circulates and recycles time like a wheel that turns. Those who were first might be last. Painting is a very slow art. It doesn't travel with the speed of light.
That's why dead painters shine so bright.
It's ok to be the second sex.
It's ok to be second best.
Painting is not a progressive activity.
5
I paint because I am an old-fashioned woman.
(I believe in witchcraft.)
I don't have Freudian hang-ups. A brush does not remind me of a phallic symbol.
If anything, the domestic aspect of a painter's studio (being 'locked up' in a room) reminds me a bit of a housewife with her broom. If you're a witch you still know how to use it. Otherwise it's obvious that you'll prefer the vacuum cleaner.
6
I paint because I am a dirty woman.
(Painting is messy business.)
It cannot ever be a pure conceptual medium, The more 'conceptual' or cleaner the art, the more the head can be separated from the body, and the more labour can be done by others. Painting is the only manual labour I do.
7
I paint because I like to be bought and sold.
Painting is about the human touch. It is about the skin of a surface. A painting is not a postcard. The content of a painting cannot be separated from the feel of its surface. Therefore, in spite of everything, Cezanne is more than vegetation and Picasso more than an anus and Matisse is not a pimp.

Response:
This statement reads more like a manifesto than a statement. Although it fails to give any formal description I like the way it is written and feel it embodies a lot of the character of her work. It could almost be a textual version of one of her paintings, with humour and hints at deeper narratives and double meanings. It touches on issues of gender, appearance, class, faith, fashion, and commodity, all recurring subjects in her paintings. Her style is light like her paintings, not over burdened with heavy words or paint it could be described as casual, but the weight is hidden under the surface. This is one of the more interesting and poetic artists statements I have read and it stands apart.

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Rydal Hanbury

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Statement:

For seven years, Rydal has been captivated by the almost magical process of Drawing. She prefers to draw in an area with a defined boundary, where she can pick up it's daily rhythms, patterns and narration. Her favourite 'draw' is standing in front of the Mansion House, London's Square Mile at 7.00-9.30 am trying to catch the forms and nuances, of the focused early morning commuters as they 'explode' from the many entrances and exits of Bank Station. She enjoys translating this visual feast, from the smallest piece of paper and stubby pencil, to the largest roll of paper, with chunks of charcoal. She hopes to enthuse her students to do similar exploits.

Response:
This statement describes well the energy and movement apparent in her drawings of London commuters, but fails to reflect the elegance of line and form she manifests in her work. This statement also doesn't account for her other drawings from different projects that can also be seen on her website. These drawings have a calmer tone that separates them from her hectic commuter studies. She also doesn't offer any contextual information or background which might help to place her among her contemporaries. It seems too brief, more like an elevator pitch.

Josh McGarvey, Week 3, Label

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Sitting on my porch
First things first, I need a sweater because it is chilly. Then the sun comes out to touch my skin with warm rays that make me squint as I watch the street in front of me buzz with lunch traffic. I can feel my porch rattle when the bus drives by in a rush. It is soothing. When the cars clear, the yards across the street are bountifully green with accents of color, like the tree the neighbors painted in orange, green, blue, and purple stripes. It smells like fall, which is hard to describe, as I immediately smell pumpkin pie and other autumnal bringings. People are parking and slamming their car doors to walk to local eateries. Crackling and crunching leaves that have fallen further highlight the smell of fall and emphasize this lunch bound migration as well as the movement of everything.
Oh wait, I forgot about the repairs being done to my next-door neighbors' house. I hear saws and echoing cracks of hammers that somehow bring out the endless hum of the nearby interstate. It is hot now; I am sweating.

Jim Hittinger, Week 2, Self Syllabus

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Self Syllabus, Version 1.0:

Open space
Atmosphere and weather - strange light, fog, snow, near-darkness
Maps- sense of place
Memory
Obscured visual information - blurs, barriers, windows, reflections
Horror movies
Black metal album covers
Small towns
Ghost towns
Suburbs
Highways

Jim Hittiger, Week 2, Intentions

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Goals/Aspirations for MFA Program

I see being in an MFA program as a chance to develop as an artist and as a professional. Above all, I plan on making the best work I have ever made in my life. I have three years to work and develop surrounded by the faculty and other students in the program, without needing a job outside of school to pay for a studio or student loan payments. I can focus completely on my art practice. Even my job during these three years is in the same building as my studio. I can train and prepare to teach art while I'm here. This is certainly better than any nine-to-five job I could have gotten with just a BFA. Maybe I should have more a plan, but that's all I've got right now. I'm happy with where I am now, and I can't wait to see what opportunities arise over the next three years.

Jim Hittinger, Week 2, Label

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Label No. 1, 9/10/2012

The guy I saw at the bus stop.

A few weeks ago, I walked up to a bus stop on Franklin to find perhaps the craziest person I have ever seen sitting on the bench. The first thing I noticed was his hair, a style I was later told is known as a "Kentucky Waterfall," consisting of a bald spot on top with a mullet on the back. He was wearing what had probably been a nice dress shirt when he bought it, but the sleeves had been torn (obviously TORN, not CUT) off. The back of the shirt had the names of various cities in The United States written on it in Sharpie. "HOUSTON," "LITTLE ROCK," "DAYTONA BEACH." It was a homemade attempt at one of those t-shirts you can buy at a concert that lists all of the stops for a touring band. There was no band name on the shirt, only the hand-scrawled list of cities: "BOSTON," "ALBANY," "DES MOINES." As he sat listening to Rush, or Journey, or The Eagles, or whatever similarly cheesy classic rock band was blaring out the portable boom box he had on his lap, he produced a 24-ounce can of beer from his backpack and emptied it into a McDonald's cup. When the bus pulled up, he dropped the empty can to the ground and boarded with cup in hand. At the next stop, a man wearing a t-shirt advertising his membership in the Libertarian Party got on the bus and sat across from my new friend, who began berating him for his political ideology and informed him that he "looked like an asshole." That was all I heard before I got off the bus.

Jim Hittinger, Week 3, Label: Smoking

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It starts with the sixth sense: knowing it's time. Really, it's physical. Something about nicotine receptors in my brain and chemical reactions. I am a firm believer in science though I don't understand how it works. Reaching for the box and the lighter, always in my left pocket. Left pants pocket if I'm not wearing a coat, left breast pocket if I am. Most people like to pack cigarettes tighter, but I roll mine lightly between my fingers to loosen it up. Lighter click, horrid smell and taste that I love anyways (even better paired with coffee or beer), feeling of lungs filling with terrible toxic poison. My nerves are instantly calmed and my thoughts clearer. Not just physical addiction, but a ritual that serves as a break from everything else and a marker of time. Get this homework done then have one. Smoke at the bus stop to make the bus come faster. Eight hour shift at work not so daunting when broken down into four two-hour shifts reset after each cigarette break. I really need to quit.

Lorena Molina: Artist Statement

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Through my work, I explore the idea of human intimacy, whether by forced encounters or genuine connections; I attempt to investigate our intentions for closeness, as well as our discomforts and limitations that keep us alienated. By using photography, performance art, handmade books, and installation art: I place myself in situations that demand an immediate response for intimacy.

In my Sleeping with Strangers series, I was inspired by the conversations we have in bed before we fall asleep. I was interested in exploring how much a person can open up in their bed when just meeting you. I joined each stranger late at night, sharing as much of myself, as they shared with me. I photographed them throughout the night, recorded their sleeping habits, and transcribed our conversations

Since my work expressively embodies the actual experience, by using text to document the encounters with my subjects, I force the viewer to experience the meeting, through my personal narrative, and subjective position. Therefore, by either approaching strangers in the street, inviting myself to my neighbor's homes, or asking strangers to let me spend the night with them, I record my genuine longing to establish some kind of connection.
My latest work delves into the idea of intimacy and the internet, especially within social networks. As technology progresses, our ability to stay connected 24/7 increases; The question I ask with my work is, to what extent are we being intimate? Is there such thing as intimacy without privacy? I am furthermore interested in the distribution of data that we are becoming. We are no longer a human being with distinctive characteristics, but we are becoming pieces of information that are constantly being distributed from screen to screen.

This interest in human interaction and intimate relationships is inherent to my artistic practice. By placing myself in situations that demand as much from myself as I ask from my subjects, I am challenging my own discomforts and limitations that shape my personal intimate relationships.

Jim, Week 3, Researched Statements

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Zachary Thornton

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The paintings of my night series are set in the midst of anonymous, silent streets, and illuminated by the isolated lights of the nocturnal world that turn otherwise ordinary moments into mysterious and provocative tableaux. 
I have been investigating the unique effects of this charged atmosphere, and try to create images that are ambiguous in narrative and evoke complex emotional responses. 
I wish for the paintings to go beyond (or beneath) the surface drama of the scenes to reveal, in half-lit moments, a private realm of experience. Surrounded by sheltering trees and glowing houses, against the looming darkness and a silence at once ominous and reassuring, the solitary figures of young women encounter the promises and hazards of the night, as the viewer in turn encounters them.

Analysis:
I think this is a great artist statement. It gets straight to the point in simple, concise language. It is descriptive of the formal qualities of his work while also addressing its conceptual content. Many artist statements I have read focus too much on one or the other of those things.

Brett Amory

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The painting series entitled "Waiting" depicts the urban individual's yearning for presence and the seeming impossibility of attaining it. The paintings portray commuters in transit immersed in either a quiet, even hopeful state or, alternately, an anguish of unfulfilled anticipation.
At first, the series, begun in 2001, depicted travelers waiting underground. But as the paintings evolved, the people ceased to be exclusively travelers, and began to emphasize figures selected from anonymous snapshots of city streets. Although the experience of waiting remains, the perception of it has changed from one of mundane task to one leavened with transcendence.
The series has also charted the evolution of an artist--the reductive elements of the compositions provide an outward echo of the inner states of the figures. By reducing the elements of the painting as far as possible, a frozen moment is extended.
Lastly, I have developed favored motifs in the series, a kind of visual music, such as repetition of a human image, to show not only the passage of time but of the human being through it.

Analysis:
This statement also summarizes well the formal and conceptual aspects of the work. I don't think the part about the chronology of his work and "evolution of an artist" is necessary. There may be a place to talk about those things, but it doesn't inform the reader about the work right in front of them which the statement is supposed to be about.


Adrian Hatfield

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My art takes its cues from visual languages developed in various scientific arenas and which are used, in part, to make huge amounts of information digestible. These include scientific illustration, museum presentation and diorama. I am interested in exploring how the reductive nature of these languages creates the comforting illusion of a more complete understanding of their subjects. Simultaneously, I borrow from the language of nineteenth-century Romantic landscape paintings and religious iconography, which also attempt to distill vast and mysterious subject matter into comprehensible portrayals.
Recently, I have begun to include pop culture references such as Godzilla and Freddie Mercury in my work. I use this imagery alongside the scientific, religious and romantic elements in an attempt to further question the accepted hierarchy of visual culture. I position the pop-culture references parallel to the philosophical, scientific and spiritual to consider both their disparities and their similarities. Additionally, I hope to examine the way lowbrow figures are imbued with meaning. This can happen in obvious ways, such as the hero worship of entertainers, or in more complex ways, such as how Godzilla, a man in an unconvincing rubber monster costume, can simultaneously exist as an enduringly popular B-movie icon, a complex symbol of the U.S./Japan political relationship, and as a metaphor for the destructive potential of nuclear power specifically, and humanity's tampering with nature in general.
I am not implying that science, religion, fine art and pop culture are equivalent. I am, however, interested in how our yearning for meaning, comprehension and control affects the development and function of all of these disciplines. This sometimes causes an interesting blurring and overlap, where one or more of these areas begin to operate in a way traditionally reserved for another.

Analysis:
This statement not only describes very well what his work looks like, but also helps to establish context for the work. The artist gives insight into the logic behind combining seemingly disparate elements in his imagery. This is not to say that the work does not stand on its own without his explanation, because I think it does. Rather than act as a defense of or excuse for the work in question, the statement serves to deepen my appreciation for what I am seeing.

Chris, Week 3, Statement Research

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Felix Hess is a trained physicist who wrote his doctor's thesis on the flight of the boomerang. Much of his work now involves automatons which make/react to sound. Below is a statement from Hess titled "THREE WAYS OF LISTENING" from his book "LIGHT AS AIR".

There are three ways of listening, or so it seems to me. The first way is listening to MEANING. This is the most common way of listening, and also the most useful. It belongs to the life of human beings and to the lives of other animals with ears as well. Listening to meaning is done with intelligence with discrimination. We do it all the time, in particular when we listen to spoken words. When we hear a motorcar approaching as we cross the street. When a bird lover notices the call of a certain bird. This way of listening has been perfected through a lot of experience, a lot of training; it can be very refined indeed. It is also heavily dependent on habits. We can do wonderful things with it, like picking out one particular conversation in the midst of very many people talking in a crowded restaurant. It involves ignoring, throwing away, all sounds that are deemed to be irrelevant, as having no meaning, turning them into mere noise, making them unnoticed. This way of listening works quickly and acts almost automatically. Although it is highly active, we seem to be unaware of it, unless it is hampered by resistance, an apparent unwillingness of a meaning to become evident. Once a meaning has been determined, immediately this listening stops, then starts again, focusing on the next possibility. Even when we are not engaged in this kind of listening it can be aroused at any moment; unless we are asleep, we are ready for it.

The second way of listening is to TIME. This we do when we listen to music, or when we enjoy the sounds of nature. Our hearing follows the sounds in time, is led by the succession of sounds. Listening is receptive, it goes with the flow, it seems to come naturally, without effort. It is as if our hearing is taking a bath in the sounds of the world. We sense how things are proceeding, we feel rhythms, we taste the textures and colours of sounds. When given this way of listening, our struggles are over, at least for a while. (This is how music, or nature, can free us from our compulsive listening to meaning.)

The third way is listening to SPACE. This is being sensitive to where the sounds come from. Taking shelter from a summer rain shower underneath a large tree, we listen to the sounds of rain drops on thousands of tree leaves coming from everywhere above our heads. Or at the end of a concert, when the audience applauds, we hear the clapping of hands all around us. The size of a room, the nearest wall, the vastness of an open plain in the evening, they may be revealed to our ears by the reflections of sounds. Mostly we tend to forget that we are hearing space, overwhelmed as we are by our visual impressions. It is simply a matter of attention. Just listen to the singing of insects on a warm summer night: how finely spread out, how spatially rich and delicate, this chorus of insect voices!

August 1999

Felix Hess. It's In The Air. 1996

Felix Hess. It's In The Air. 1996

This Statement or essay by Hess is not particularly descriptive of his practice of making or specific works. He does however, reveal his theory and logic behind the way in which his mind interprets vibrations in air. It cues the reader to the mental or internal syntax in which Hess relates to the content of his work. It provides simple, relatable, rudimentary experiences one gifted with the sense of hearing can relate to. Nowhere in the essay does Hess clearly relate these experiences directly to his work.

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Another artist I reviewed is Michael Joo. This is a course on writing and an exercise in analysis of writing artist statements, but we are also faced with talking about our work as well as writing and so I have included a video.


The following is from an interview with artist Michael Joo in which he is asked to address a cyclical process inherent in his work.


MJ: My work has always dealt directly with an overload of information as a way to access the intuitive in the art-making (and receiving) process. In the video works, seemingly unorganised and shapeless content is given structure by time and actions.

This structure has elements of the linear and cyclical; it is present in some way in all of my work. Just as information implies a truth, so do the contradictions in this content; they inform our choices, and therefore our individual identities imply a balance point.

The moment of balance defies choice and could be seen as both eternal and ephemeral. Perhaps one idea of faith and spiritual renewal could be seen as the human drive to repeat that moment of balance combined with the fear of losing one's identity.

I imagine the diagrammatic shape of this process to be like a spiral from above and spring-like from the side. This relates to an optimism in the work, as the form is both two and three dimensional, real and imagined, and therefore perfect and something to aspire to.

The idea of the cyclical reflects the nature of the work as well. I am not interested in producing identifiable groups of art along a linear timeline. I guess there is "spiritual renewal" through "re-incarnation" of themes within the work (to twist your words), with their significance to the larger project of the whole body of work existing as an evolving proposition.

video statement- FLAWS IN DESIGN

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Michael Joo. The Saltiness Of Greatness. 1992.

I chose these statements because of the way in which Joo addresses themes present throughout his work. Addressing, noticing, and analyzing themes in my own work can be a limiting and troublesome way of defining what I do. At the same time it is helpful and vital to the process of understanding what I do. In the video Joo gives specific examples of how a theme of flawed design is present in a specific piece. The coyotes are made in plasticine to address their artificial and unnatural display. As he elaborates on this connection/motive, he is providing a specific lense for a viewer to look through. Much of his work is very information rich but most of this information is not expressly provided in writing with the exception of a sometimes telling title.

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Tara Donovan

"My investigations into the properties of different media each address a specific trait that is unique to a given mass-produced material. By experimenting with the more phenomenological aspects of a material, my process develops through a kind of dialogue that leads to a specific repetitive action (e.g. stacking, bundling, heaping, etc.) that builds the work. The breadth and diversity of the consumer landscape has expanded to such a degree that the supply of materials that can be adapted to an artistic context seems limitless. The idea that art can be manufactured or that it can radically complicate the standard notions of value attached to mass-produced objects is no longer a point of serious contention in contemporary debates. I think the new fertile territory, for myself at least, encompasses a range of practices that capitalize on the iconic identities of commercial and industrial materials by pressing them further into the realm of abstract seduction. I prefer the phrase "site-responsive" to describe the affiliation of my works to the spaces they inhabit. While this term makes a convenient allusion to the chameleonic visuals I prefer to exploit, it also suggests a dependence on the architectural particulars and lighting conditions of a given space that environmentally impact the growth of my work in terms of scale, direction, and orientation. This reliance on spatial conditions is primarily responsible for forming the understanding of my works as "fields" of visual activity, which have been compared to everything from landscapes to biomorphic forms and even cellular structures."

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Tara Donovan. Toothpicks. 2001

Donovan points out very clear themes within her methods of making. She addresses the materials, means, and concepts of her practice in a very straightforward way. She also establishes the context in which she is working and displaying. Donovan references how her work and materials relate historically and culturally. There are no specific references to pieces and no biographical tidbits. However, she does say "I think" and "I prefer" highlighting the presence of her personal decisiveness and artistic voice while developing a piece.

Chris, Week 3, Label- Coriander Chutney

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A dollop of coriander chutney sizzles in a hot skillet emitting a sweet, spicy, and acidic steam cloud. I draw the warm vapor in with a giant waft. The paste quickly separates. A watery green culinary secretion oozes out from the bubbling blob before jumping across the pan. An intense sizzle cues a quick stir bombarding the chutney with an array of chopped vegetables. Any lingering eye-blurring onion fumes are now futile in the shadow of the mouth-watering simmer before me. Juices coat the smooth skin of green pepper pieces buffing them to a new car sheen. Bits of coriander cling to chunks of potato, foreshadowing their inevitable speckled presence upon my teeth. Ignorant of the sizzle ringing in my ears, I quickly shove a small wrinkling tomato into my mouth. Its boiling contents explode on my tongue. I tip my head back slightly and breathe through clenched teeth as if I just witnessed another's painful act. With a tongue burned numb, I swallow the sweet warm tomato's juice and reach for the stove knob to signal its poignant pop.

Chris, Week 3, Personal Artist Statement

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My artistic practice began as a young boy wandering the woods and alleys of the small Wisconsin town I grew up in. While collecting mysterious bits of discarded treasure on my adventures I was overcome with a great sense of awe. I placed these objects in my sock drawer, saving them for a purpose unknown. Revisiting the treasures years later I am still struck with wonder while considering the form, purpose, and material of my discoveries. I am instilled with the same sensation of wonder when breaking off each bit of hard shell surrounding the metal castings I create. I make Art in order to share the sense of awe I felt as a boy and continue to search for today.

While attending St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota I fueled my desire to create Art. By the end of my sophomore year I found myself spending night and day in the studios. After receiving a BA in Studio Art in 2009, my professors elected me to continue my education in their department for a fifth year. My extra year at St. Olaf was spent creating two bodies of work for exhibition, helping with Art Department operations, and engaging the undergraduate students. Devoting my time to making Art and being part of an Art community has strengthened my passion to pursue a life of art and academia.
The focus of my Art is rooted in materials, methods and techniques of making. Utilizing a myriad of processes to manipulate materials is at the core of what I explore. The variety of methods I use to create Art are as influential as my subjects. I am constantly working to understand my perceptions of the world around me by searching for details which hearken back to my childhood discoveries. My Art involves interpreting an idea or experience and presenting it in an elemental fashion. In order to simplify my ideas, I cut out extra visual material which can distract from my intentions. My current work revolves around my small aluminum foundry and forms I study while employed at an industrial iron foundry.

Beth, Week 3, Artist Statements: Research

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I had the frustrating problem of choosing three artists who appear to not have simple first-person narrative statements. In the case of Richard Wentworth, he is the frequent subject of print and broadcast interviews, but has never followed the simple form that has become the conventional artist's statement. I have located small extracts where he summarized his basic approach, and I hope these will work here. I have also included links to longer interviews where he attempts to summarize his practice.

Tacita Dean is another artist I admire, and another who seems to not have ever had to summarize her work in nutshell. I have included information supplied by her London gallery, Frith Street, with the assumption that this was written with Ms Dean's approval. Likewise in the case of John Stezaker, I have used the third-person information provided by the Whitechapel Gallery, again under the assumption that this was approved by the artist.

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ARTIST: RICHARD WENTWORTH
from Art Photography Now, by Susan Bright, Aperture, 2005

". . . I have always been very puzzled about the raw and the cooked. Am I sitting on a tree or is this assemblage of wood a chair? What draws me in is how things are convertible and how humans give meaning. There is something about mutability that I have always been attracted to. I mean, what is a television that is sitting on the roadside miles away from the electricity supply? Is it still a television? It's something to do with being dead yet alive. It's the small human acts that reach out to my way of seeing. Without someone being able to raise a brick and deposit the right amount of mortar then there would be no walls. That's all a wall is really - a lot of brick raising. A little human act multiplied. A half brick raised, though, can be a murder weapon.

My work is also attached to the limits of purposefulness. If something is discarded you can read that and see that it's been rejected. To me, there is something terribly beautiful in that. Formal things are incredibly important to me. I always see the crack in the glass before I see the window. I have always had this "sickness". I am interested in the aberrant."

from The White Review

". . . I become more and more interested in organisational imagery, which is a kind of text. Everything can be read. Floorboards can be 'read'. The fact that you're sitting comfortably in this room suggests that you've 'read' from the surroundings that the ceiling is unlikely to cave in. A lot of these things you can test by reversing them, by finding those times when you read things wrong. You can become alert to misperception. You have to work hard at it though because the whole point of misperception is that you correct it. So, just as you start to trip or misjudge the height of a step, you correct yourself. What I've enjoyed doing is trying to collect up those moments, those milliseconds."

In this interview, Wentworth offers insight into his work by way of metaphors, which is an apt entry point. He is a generous, gregarious thinker, and the many interviews available online get me thinking not only about his work, but about the machinations of the universe. He has an addicting charm which makes me love his work and adore him as a person. The wit he spills while discussing art reflects the context in which his work is made, and I can see art and artist are of a piece.

from the Nicoletta Rusconi Gallery

"Richard Wentworth has played a leading role in New British Sculpture since the end of the 70s. His work, encircling the notion of objects and their use as part of our day-to-day experiences, has altered the traditional definition of sculpture as well as photography. By transforming and manipulating industrial and/or found objects into works of art, Wentworth subverts their original function and extends our understanding of them by breaking the conventional system of classification. The sculptural arrangements play with the notion of ready-made and juxtaposition of objects that bear no relation to each other.  Whereas in photography, as in the ongoing series Making Do and Getting By, Wentworth documents the everyday, paying attention to objects, occasional and involuntary geometries as well as uncanny situations that often go unnoticed."

This aptly summarizes what Wentworth does and what motivates him, and I think this kind of narrative summary is tidy and succinct. It made me realize that an artist's statement perhaps works best when it is like a simple elevator speech. As novice writers are frequently told: show, don't tell. I took this approach to my (very brief) statement that I'm submitting here today. When I draft a statement about a specific body of work, I usually write something that is two or (many) more paragraphs long, depending on the situation. This brief summary of Wentworth's practice is simple yet descriptive.

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ARTIST: TACITA DEAN
from the Frith Street Gallery, London

"The films, drawings and other works by Tacita Dean are extremely original. Her recent film portraits express something that neither painting nor photography can capture. They are purely film. And while Dean can appreciate the past, her art avoids any kind of academic approach. Dean's art is carried by a sense of history, time and place, light quality and the essence of the film itself. The focus of her subtle but ambitious work is the truth of the moment, the film as a medium and the sensibilities of the individual."

This short blurb put out by the Frith Street Gallery is dull and annoying. When I'm told by a stakeholder that something or someone is "extremely original," I feel like I'm being sold something. I would rather read a list of things Dean has done that leads me to draw my own conclusion about her originality. In her case, this should be easy. While I was able to find examples of Dean addressing her own work, and an especially good one is the long essay she wrote in Film, the catalog to her recent large installation at Tate Modern, I think this short piece that appears later in the catalog is an impassioned declaration of intent:

from Film, exhibition catalog, Tate Modern, 2011

"This book and this film are not valedictory; they refuse to be. But they are, nonetheless, a call to arms. Culturally and socially, we are moving too fast and losing too much in our haste. We are also being deceived, silently and conspiratorially. Analogue, the word, means equivalent. Digital is not the analogue of analogue. At the moment we have both, so why deplete our world of this choice? But we must persuade a disheartened industry of film and photo manufacturers and those few remaining labs to persevere through this darkest of storms. Increasingly people are returning to non-digital film and photography, as they have been returning to vinyl, because they want the option of using both, despite what is being decided for them. We must fight to keep a foothold on Mount Analogue*, or risk a colossal depletion of irretrievable knowledge and skill, as well as the experience and history of over a hundred years of film and photographs made on film. If we do not, we are in danger of losing something of our humanity's heart."
* Dean refers to the book Mount Analogue: A Novel of Symbolically Authentic Non-Euclidean Adventures in Mountain Climbing by Rene Daumal (1952), which she discusses in her introductory essay

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ARTIST: JOHN STEZAKER
from the Whitechapel Gallery, London

"The work of British artist John Stezaker (b. 1949) engages with the ceaseless flow of images that is the consequence of popular culture, the mass media and mechanical reproduction. Instead of creating new images from scratch, Stezaker uses existing material: classic movie stills, vintage postcards and book illustrations. By means of minimal intervention, such as cropping, excision, rotation or occlusion, the artist removes these images from their original context, and allows them to acquire new meaning. Stezaker's emphasis on the image itself reflects his fascination in the visual:

"I am dedicated to fascination - to image fascination, a fascination for the point at which the image becomes self-enclosed and autonomous. It does so through a series of processes of disjunction."

This exhibition presents a survey of Stezaker's work on paper from the 1970s to today. It focuses on 'processes of disjunction' in his use of collage, found images, and image fragments.

The artist's collages often add or take away visual elements. The unexpected encounter of diverse images create surprising new narratives; the precise cut-out opens up new interpretations. His found images and image fragments take such approach of re-contextualisation even further. Through simple rotation or mere cropping, the previously forgotten images acquire a renewed poetic resonance, and, in many cases, disquieting allure."

John Stezaker's work combines simple objects, in this case images, in simple ways that open new ways to understand the possibilities of the constituent components. These components are sourced and archived with the aim to pair them up later. By describing this process as providing "new narratives" and opening up "new interpretations," the artist is able to remain vague in his intent. "Renewed poetic resonance" and "disquieting allure" are also open-ended phrases used to describe open-ended photographs. I think this summary of the work perhaps needlessly spells out points we can easily glean on our own, but his collages are made with a simple process, and part of their magic is that everything is so obvious yet we still feel the quiet wonder that is borne of that simplicity.

Will Lakey - week two - Context to my practice

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www.antonylakey.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/antony_lakey/
http://antonylakeyaviationartist.com/ (just to be thorough, its not particularly relevant)

My practice consists of drawings and paintings on a variety of found surfaces, homemade surfaces, and more recently in site specific locations.

I source the images I make from the media, personal photographs, and occasionally objects or scenes. I choose images and subjects without thinking too hard about why. If something catches my eye, I think it might be fun to draw, or it marks an interesting story, I take it and work from it. I am trying to create work that contains insignificant reflections of my character/personality. They sit at the outer edge of meaning but for me mostly represent a kind of distant tide line that marks a point of contact with the world.

I work quickly and honestly (I avoid making corrections if I can). I like to keep my paint and linework simple.

The process of reproduction involves a period of intense study of the image I have chosen. This enables me to engage with the image more intensely than I would ordinarily, or might be expected depending upon the context in which I found it.

Over the last few years I have begun experimenting with methods of display, organising my pieces into panels, columns, and other arrangements by attaching them to wires strung between points. This lifts them off the wall and into space. I hope this resists a traditional 2D reading of the work and gives them more presence in space that they might lack if attached flat to a wall. It also makes it possible for the viewer to see the reverse of the surface the image is on.

Will Lakey - week two - Aspirations

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Aspirations/Intentions for my MFA

This MFA represents a chance for me to engage with my practice more intensely than I have been able to before now.

I am hoping to develop a much deeper theoretical and critical understanding of my work and its context in the art world.

I hope to develop new networks.

I hope to develop more professional practices that will help me to keep my art closer to the center of my life after I leave the MFA.

Will Lakey - week two - Label

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Coffee

Coffee is a caffeinated beverage that is drunk for pleasure, for the stimulating effects of the caffeine it contains, or both. Drunk socially as part of a dinner ritual, or individually as a personal habit and preference.

Made from a bean that is grown across the world but particularly in South America and Africa, the bean is roasted and ground, then through a variety of processes allowed to infuse with water to create a usually dark and bitter hot liquid. Variations can be achieved by using beans from different areas of production, as well as different methods and styles of processing. A longer roast will achieve a darker and more bitter flavour, a finer grind of the bean will result in a stronger flavour and higher caffeine content. "Instant" coffee is achieved by a freeze drying process, this is widely considered to be inferior in flavour and strength to traditional coffee. It is, however, quicker to make as the name implies. Further variety can be achieved by the use of milk derivatives (i.e. milk, cream, soy milk, powdered whitener) and sweeteners such as sugar (or an artificial alternative) and honey.

Will Lakey - week two - Self Syllabus

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Self Syllabus

Painting
Drawing
Site specific wall drawings
Installations

Egon Schiele
Douglas Gordon
Horst Janssen
Peter Doig
Brassai
Susan Turcot
Hiroshi Yoshida

Oil paint
Watercolour
Acrylic
Graphite
Galkyd medium
White/Mineral spirits

Handmade paper
Used envelopes
Primed cereal packets
Used printer paper
Invoices

Newspaper clippings
Objects
My own photographs
My own face

Arthur C Danto
Walter Benjamin
Susan Sontag
Gen Doy
Roland Barthes
Richard Wollheim

Patrick O'Brian
Charles Dickens
Tom Clancy
Phillip K Dick (although he always leaves me feeling melancholy)
Terry Pratchett
Iain M. Banks
Isaac Asimov

DIY furniture projects
Mending stuff
History
Science
Shooting (25-1000yd targets/clay pigeons/deer hunting)
Walking
Reading (although I don't have so much time to read these days so to escape I now mostly watch movies)
Movies (action/adventure/comedy/sci-fi/rom-com)
& TV (Dexter/Star Trek (TNG/Voyager)/21 Jump Street/King of the Hill....)
To really relax I need to spend time with Amanda.

Will Lakey - week three - Label

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The daily commute

Dark and quiet, the satisfying sensation of smooth tarmac that holds little resistance. Rough gravel that grinds and rings musically off my fenders is broken by shining metallic lines and wood that carry loud noises, and a slight primal fear. I tense and lift off the saddle when I cross them, always looking. Grey, rough, vibrating, bright industrial concrete. It takes me over the bridge where the winds are stronger and resist me. A slight incline joins with the cool wind and vibration, resisting my progress, sapping my energy. The ache builds in my thighs but I struggle not to give in to the concrete. I tell myself that soon I will be stronger than the slope and the wind, because unlike the concrete, the more I ride over it the stronger I get. The paths on campus are a sanctuary from the the cool wind, rough concrete, and the loud vehicles with their implicit threat of injury and death. The paths curve and I glide through their turns into school with tree branches whipping green and clattering on my helmet.

Will Lakey - week three - Artists Statement

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I have lived in different regions of the UK and for short periods in the USA, and through these experiences among different socio-cultural groups I have developed an interest in the nature of identity and how it is constructed, maintained, and developed through life, which has become the primary interest of my practice.

My undergraduate practice at Northbrook College consisted of exploring ways to reflect what I perceived as the fractured play of remembered images on the lived experience. As my practice developed, I broadened my use of materials to increase visual complexity and produce a sense of coexisting/parallel thoughts. The work of Douglas Gordon and Marc Quinn were a strong influence on me at this time, the way they recontextualised existing 'culturally-loaded' materials (feature films for Gordon and Quinn's own blood) were exciting signposts to the possibilities of my practice. Also at this time, through the writing of Arthur Danto, I became interested in the contribution of critical responses in the development of theoretical understanding.

During college, I also started developing my ideas in video. With representation being inherent to video, I learned new ways to manipulate an idea without direct control of the image. After graduation, I continued to work with video, using close crops and zooms to isolate an activity from its context and offer a new experience to the viewer. These videos often featured mesmeric rhythms and repetitions that I found visually stimulating. One of my videos was selected by the Society of Scottish Artists for a live web cast, and a touring group show across Scotland. These exhibition opportunities showed me the importance of context and environment when exhibiting and how an artwork is influenced by its surroundings.

I perceive my current work to exist as flexible collections, each painting or drawing being just a single 'frame' in the series. Each can be considered singly but always exists in relation to its peers. Each exhibition is an opportunity to explore new arrangements, generating different dialogues and contexts within the work.

The images come from a variety of sources; newspapers, holiday snaps, personal objects, etc. These come and go in phases. I reproduce them using marks of line and paint that are important as direct evidence of my presence, a subjective trace of my involvement that the viewer can identify. This Morellian signature can also be found in the surfaces I choose to work on, cereal packets, envelopes, used printer paper; used overtly or as the raw material for my homemade paper, reflect my tastes and preferences on a fundamental level. The act of dating each piece serves to incorporate it into an ongoing diaristic process and provides another dimension of engagement for the viewer. Some artists I consider to have relevance for my work are Marcel van Eeden, Elisabeth Peyton, and Susan Turcot.

The writing of Walter Benjamin and Roland Barthes has been important in my current understanding of my work, especially with regard to ideas of the decentred self and fragmentation of identity in mass culture. Benjamin's "Constellation of Fragments" holds particular interest for my work and the way it is displayed. The abandonment of conventional narrative structures in favour of collections of "fragments" that, when combined, offer multiple routes of interpretation to the observer is a methodology I hope to continue exploring. Future research will include the work of Didier Anzieu, Jacques Lacan, and Michel Foucault, specifically where their writing touches on the subject of identity. After reading Gen Doy, I am interested to further explore issues of the subject and identity creation in feminist and minority art theories. Bell Hooks is on my reading list in this regard.

Since moving to Glasgow, I have participated in a number of exhibitions. I have been invited to participate in group performances, including a piece by the internationally acclaimed artist Pietro Fortuna at the Tramway. I was involved in a group residency with IRONBBRATZ and the artist-run collective The Mutual at Market Gallery. These opportunities enabled me to engage with other artists, learn about their practices, and consider the social environment in which we operate as artists and how this influences us as individuals and groups. In the residency, we were required to quickly produce work in response to a limited brief. The short deadlines the Market Gallery imposed required a tempo of production that undermined my existing processes and made me more aware of the value systems and meanings I associated with the speed at which I made my work.

Over the last few years I have come to value greatly the contribution made to my practice by theoretical research. It has offered insights and interpretations that have enabled my work to grow in strength and depth and charged it with new energy. However I feel I am at a point where I would greatly benefit from a challenging critical and supporting environment that would help me establish more effective research methods, push my understanding, and guide my ongoing professional development.

I have been in communication with several members of staff and a student at the University of Minnesota. I had the privilege of touring the facilities at the Regis Centre for Art last December and as a result I believe that the MFA at UMN would offer me the ideal theoretical and critical environment in which to expand and advance my practice. I am particularly interested in the weekly art theory and discussion classes, the opportunities for dialogue with undergraduates offered by the various TA positions, and the visiting artist and critics program which has included a number of people that I am sorry to have missed. E.g. Arthur Danto, Doug Aitken, and Tony Hepburn.

The source images for my art production come loaded with cultural references that carry over into my work. In the post-modern theory of the decentred self these cultural references are signposts to expressions of the cultural in my identity. The shift I would experience by moving to America would isolate and contrast the exploration of the decentred self that underscores my practice and open up new possibilities. On this course I hope to refine the direction of my process and discover the new contextual dialogues available to me through the use of installation.

Kevin Obsatz - Artist Statement

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It's only been a few years since video cameras have been incorporated into every cell phone, but it won't be long until the previous era, before this phenomenon of ubiquitous image capture, fades into history.

Since we all have the power at our fingertips to create and view moving images, every hour of every day, it's easy to begin to take it for granted, to lose sight of the fact that this ability is, in fact, magic.

Only powerful magic could allow us to witness an event and store it, via a device that records the impressions made by photons of light on a tiny sensor, in perfect detail, for review at any time, in any place, even transmitted halfway around the world in mere moments.

Reconnecting with the very real magic of the moving image is an integral part of my practice as an artist. In parallel with my filmmaking adventures of recent years, I've been exploring the sociological roles of mythology, folk tales, fairy tales and Jungian archetypal psychology as tools for making sense of human experience. I believe that this academic study is closely related to the filmic techniques to which I'm drawn - I find that the primitive, textural images of hand-processed black and white film, and the geometric, architectural configurations of my video installations are evocative of the same kinds of ritualized abstraction, symbolism and metaphor that exist in the realm of half-dreams where fairy tale logic makes sense on a deep, subconscious level.

I believe that this work is important to share with other artists, with students, and with a broader audience today, as the quotidian images that pass before our eyes become progressively more banal. I'm happy to argue on behalf of magical and ritualized cinema as a mode of moving image art highly worth revisiting and reviving, and I've seen audiences respond to this work with a deep sense of recognition and an intuitive grasp of its organic integrity. Even if they don't know exactly why it looks the way it looks, they find it strangely familiar and satisfying - it speaks to them.

Josh McGarvey, Week 3, Artist Statements

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Monica Kulicka

In Monica Kulicka's piece, Reconstructions , over 90 gallons of grass and clover chlorophyll were ground by hand and refrigerated in a large container. Plastic tubes transfered the chlorophyll throughout the rooms of 1414 Monterey Street--the Mattress Factory's satellite building. Kulicka also rubbed the chlorophyll into the wooden structures of the floor over the course of a ten-day performance that followed the exhibition's opening.
Plants were gathered from throughout the neighborhood and liquefied into green "juice" with a hand-cranked meat grinder. After grinding pounds and pounds of plants, the liquid was poured into a clear, rectangular box. After pouring the liquefied green matter into the large container, she used refrigeration and added alcohol to keep the watery vegetation from going bad.
"Without the additive of alcohol and without refrigeration it would spoil and rot very quickly, just as any fresh fruit juice left on the kitchen counter for a couple of days," Monika explained during an interview. The liquid ran through the building to the exposed wood surfaces of doorframes, flooring, and window frames. Plastic tubes traveled from the main tank to the rest of the room's installation. The main room was kept darker to avoid killing the chlorophyll with harsh light.
After the opening evening, artists stayed to continue rubbing the chlorophyll into the floors. Rubbing old wooden floors all day without any protection gave the artist their fair share of splinters and cuts from rusty nails. Additionally, the chlorophyll stung the nicks and scratches, but luckily it actually helped to heal them. The type of clover used, melilot, has been used in medical practices to heal bad wounds, like the artist's beaten hands. "It was an experience that touched me, and taught me, very much" recalls Kulicka

"In Reconstructions I build my own machine to give an old, wooden building a (green) blood transfusion; I gently rub fresh chlorophyll into old planks of the floor. It's a mockery of technology, it's a mockery of good intentions. My aim is to stir our hidden appreciation of absurd, to startle minds set by the logic of cause and effect."

Analysis:
I think Monica Kulicka's statement gives an incredible description of intent behind the project. The last paragraph just really makes me fall in love with the installation. It is not highfalutin but simply put and still very interesting. I think it is accessible to a wide range of viewers and not just an art world regular.

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Marcus Coates

"...My work is all about our relationship with animals and nature...There is humour in the work, but a serious side explores how we use our relationship with animals to define our humanness."

Coates often assumes the identity of an animal, such as a fox, goshawk or stoat, by simulating its appearance, enacting its habits and appropriating its language. In the film, 'Stoat' (1999), for example, Coates totters around on ramshackle platforms, learning to recreate the animal's bounding movements; in 'Goshawk' (1999), a telephoto lens captures the artist as a rare bird perched precariously at the top of a tree; while in 'Finfolk' (2003), the artist emerges from the North Sea spluttering a new dialect, as spoken by seals.

Coates has also trained as a shaman and the exhibition includes films of his rituals, where he achieves a trance-like state and communes with the animal kingdom to address social issues. Wearing an array of costumes such as a badger's hide, a stuffed horse's head, a blonde wig and a necklace of money (all of which will be on display), Coates has addressed issues including prostitution, regeneration and swine flu for communities worldwide and most recently in Israel, Japan and Switzerland.

"...I feel that my imagination can be put to good use socially, even politically."

Analysis:
I think the strongest aspect of this statement is how he words it in a way that allows the viewer to access his content in a clear and concise manner. This last quote about the use of his imagination gives a clear glimpse into his intentions behind his rather absurd performances. He does not, though, describe well enough his performative antics that would highlight to the reader the humor that is very evident in his process.


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David Hammons

1. I CAN'T STAND ART ACTUALLY. I'VE NEVER, EVER LIKED ART, EVER. I NEVER TOOK IT IN SCHOOL.
2. WHEN I WAS IN CALIFORNIA, ARTISTS WOULD WORK FOR YEARS AND NEVER HAVE A SHOW. SO SHOWING HAS NEVER BEEN THAT IMPORTANT TO ME. WE USED TO CUSS PEOPLE OUT: PEOPLE WHO BOUGHT OUR WORK, DEALERS, ETC., BECAUSE THAT PART OF BEING AN ARTIST WAS ALWAYS A JOKE TO US.
WHEN I CAME TO NEW YORK, I DIDN'T SEE ANY OF THAT. EVERYBODY WAS JUST GROVELING AND TOMMING, ANYTHING TO BE IN THE ROOM WITH SOMEBODY WITH SOME MONEY. THERE WERE NO BAD GUYS HERE; SO I SAID, "LET ME BE A BAD GUY," OR ATTEMPT TO BE A BAD GUY, OR PLAY WITH THE BAD AREAS AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS.
3. I WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHY BLACK PEOPLE WERE CALLED SPADES, AS OPPOSED TO CLUBS. BECAUSE I REMEMBER BEING CALLED A SPADE ONCE, AND I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT IT MEANT; NIGGER I KNEW BUT SPADE I STILL DON'T. SO I TOOK THE SHAPE, AND STARTED PAINTING IT.
4. I JUST LOVE THE HOUSES IN THE SOUTH, THE WAY THEY BUILT THEM. THAT NEGRITUDE ARCHITECTURE. I REALLY LOVE TO WATCH THE WAY BLACK PEOPLE MAKE THINGS, HOUSES OR MAGAZINE STANDS IN HARLEM, FOR INSTANCE. JUST THE WAY WE USE CARPENTRY. NOTHING FITS, BUT EVERYTHING WORKS. THE DOOR CLOSES, IT KEEPS THINGS FROM COMING THROUGH. BUT IT DOESN'T HAVE THAT NEATNESS ABOUT IT, THE WAY WHITE PEOPLE PUT THINGS TOGETHER; EVERYTHING IS A THIRTY-SECOND OF AN INCH OFF.
5. THAT'S WHY I LIKE DOING STUFF BETTER ON THE STREET, BECAUSE THE ART BECOMES JUST ONE OF THE OBJECTS THAT'S IN THE PATH OF YOUR EVERYDAY EXISTENCE. IT'S WHAT YOU MOVE THROUGH, AND IT DOESN'T HAVE ANY SENIORITY OVER ANYTHING ELSE.
THOSE PIECES WERE ALL ABOUT MAKING SURE THAT THE BLACK VIEWER HAD A REFLECTION OF HIMSELF IN THE WORK. WHITE VIEWERS HAVE TO LOOK AT SOMEONE ELSE'S CULTURE IN THOSE PIECES AND SEE VERY LITTLE OF THEMSELVES IN IT.
6. ANYONE WHO DECIDES TO BE AN ARTIST SHOULD REALIZE THAT IT'S A POVERTY TRIP. TO GO INTO THIS PROFESSION IS LIKE GOING INTO THE MONASTERY OR SOMETHING; IT'S A VOW OF POVERTY I ALWAYS THOUGHT. TO BE AN ARTIST AND NOT EVEN TO DEAL WITH THAT POVERTY THING, THAT'S A WASTE OF TIME; OR TO BE AROUND PEOPLE COMPLAINING ABOUT THAT.
MY KEY IS TO TAKE AS MUCH MONEY HOME AS POSSIBLE. ABANDON ANY ART FORM THAT COSTS TOO MUCH. INSIST THAT IT'S AS CHEAP AS POSSIBLE IS NUMBER ONE AND ALSO THAT IT'S AESTHETICALLY CORRECT. AFTER THAT ANYTHING GOES. AND THAT KEEPS EVERYTHING INTERESTING FOR ME.
7. I DON'T KNOW WHAT MY WORK IS. I HAVE TO WAIT TO HEAR THAT FROM SOMEONE.
I WOULD LIKE TO BURN THE PIECE. I THINK THAT WOULD BE NICE VISUALLY. VIDEOTAPE THE BURNING OF IT. AND SHOOT SOME SLIDES. THE SLIDES WOULD THEN BE A PIECE IN ITSELF. I'M GETTING INTO THAT NOW: THE SLIDES ARE THE ART PIECES AND THE ART PIECES DON'T EXIST.
8. IF YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE THEN IT'S EASY TO MAKE ART. MOST PEOPLE ARE REALLY CONCERNED ABOUT THEIR IMAGE. ARTISTS HAVE ALLOWED THEMSELVES TO BE BOXED IN BY SAYING "YES" ALL THE TIME BECAUSE THEY WANT TO BE SEEN, AND THEY SHOULD BE SAYING "NO." I DO MY STREET ART MAINLY TO KEEP ROOTED IN THAT "WHO I AM." BECAUSE THE ONLY THING THAT'S REALLY GOING ON IS IN THE STREET; THAT'S WHERE SOMETHING IS REALLY HAPPENING. IT ISN'T HAPPENING IN THESE GALLERIES.
9. DOING THINGS IN THE STREET IS MORE POWERFUL THAN ART I THINK. BECAUSE ART HAS GOTTEN SO....I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK ART IS ABOUT NOW. IT DOESN'T DO ANYTHING. LIKE MALCOLM X SAID, IT'S LIKE NOVOCAINE. IT USED TO WAKE YOU UP BUT NOW IT PUTS YOU TO SLEEP. I THINK THAT ART NOW IS PUTTING PEOPLE TO SLEEP. THERE'S SO MUCH OF IT AROUND IN THIS TOWN THAT IT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING. THAT'S WHY THE ARTIST HAS TO BE VERY CAREFUL WHAT HE SHOWS AND WHEN HE SHOWS NOW. BECAUSE THE PEOPLE AREN'T REALLY LOOKING AT ART, THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER AND EACH OTHER'S CLOTHES AND EACH OTHER'S HAIRCUTS.
10. THE ART AUDIENCE IS THE WORST AUDIENCE IN THE WORLD. IT'S OVERLY EDUCATED, IT'S CONSERVATIVE, IT'S OUT TO CRITICIZE NOT TO UNDERSTAND, AND IT NEVER HAS ANY FUN. WHY SHOULD I SPEND MY TIME PLAYING TO THAT AUDIENCE?

Analysis:
I could not find any actual "artist statement" for David Hammons. This was a grouping of quotes I found in one location that seemed to work well as an "artist statement". This is very consistent with the content of his work, which to quote him, "doing things in the street is more powerful than art...". It could be seen as hypocritical for him to have an "artist statement", written in his private residence, paid for by his art sales, made in new york galleries.

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Emily, Week 3: Artist Statement (2010)

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photo (14).JPG
(I'm substituting a Letter of Intention, written in a busy coffee shop on a brutally cold day as an exasperated freeform attempt to understand why I was applying to a graduate program. I rewrote before submitting, but this has served as my mission statement and my touchstone when I no longer understand where I'm going.)

What are my intentions? I intend to take a nap today. I intend to spend some time huddling with cats under an electric blanket and trying desperately to warm my blood to a healthy temperature. I intend to take a bath if my water heater will cooperate. I intend to keep making eyes at curly-headed boys. I intend to get a refill.

Beyond that, I intend to write a letter of intention today. I intend to apply for a Masters of Landscape Architecture. I intend never to convince myself I'm in love just because I can palpably feel my youth caught in a vortex, slipping away with the bathwater. I intend to pull myself out of the depths of sunny winter despair and self-pity and make a difference with my day. I intend to make beautiful things for people who need beauty. I intend to get rich people to pay for beautiful things for people who need beauty.

And, here's the sneaky plan that warms me in these sub-zero days: I intend for these little things of beauty to transform into places of beauty, places where beautiful things happen perhaps against the better wishes of rich people. I intend for these places to be where people who feel they can't afford beauty in their lives can understand that beauty is for everyone, and doesn't just live on walls up in fenced-off hills. I intend to make places where connections are possible, where ideas are born, and where a sense of curiosity can sneakily worm its way into the cultivated humdrum of adulthood. I intend for these places to be peaceful for those who need peace, and exciting for those who can't remember what it feels like to be excited. I intend for people to think, "Oh, I wish I could be a kid again," and then, "look at that tiny yellow light peeking from behind a dark cloud. I wonder who lives back there."

I intend to make beautiful places for people who need beauty, who feel they can't afford beauty, who are bent back by the hard and ugly weight of their daily lives. I intend for these people to realize that part of them is still a child who wonders about clouds.

Josh McGarvey

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My work draws strongly from personal experience. I believe our strongest influences come from living out our everyday routines.

"...a continuous oscillation, a constant repositioning between positions and mindsets that are evocative of the modern and of the postmodern but are ultimately suggestive of another sensibility that is neither of them. A discourse that negotiates between a yearning for universal truths but also an (a)political relativism, between hope and doubt, sincerity and irony, knowingness and naivety, construction and deconstruction."
-­‐Van Den Ekker and Vermeulen from "Notes on Metamodernism"

I mirror my experiences through metaphor, juxtaposition, and repetitious imagery. The layering of these elements symbolizes the complexities of the human condition. An endless narrative presents constant cultural, artistic, and personal bombardment. Dumpy is the protagonist and relates the complexities to the viewer. He manifests himself through my personal attachment to the ego-­‐driven essence of life. He is I. He is you. He embodies the cheap, primitive, vulnerable, complex, ego-­‐ driven anti-­‐hero in all of us. An embodiment of duality, he is humorous, sad, mundane, sublime, sarcastic, serious, good, evil, and indifferent.

This protagonist deals with the development of icons and the language of artists. I grapple with my ever-­‐increasing list of influences during an on-­‐going conversation with art history. Inspiration and jealousy motivate ambition in my artistic process. The imagery, materials, and process all lend to the content of a piece. It is these layers that construct and deconstruct the personality of Dumpy and the overall expression of my work.

I work in several mediums including etching, woodcut, artist books, works on paper, and collage. They all provide unique qualities capable of accentuating my imagery and/or content. An immortalization of mark making in metal, etching provides a deep, rich image juxtaposed with the scrawls depicting the icons of mediocrity. Woodcut's immediacy and bold emphasis on shape provides my imagery with impact and primitiveness. Printmaking offers my work repetition of repetition, and the methodical processes often contradict the imagery, shouting duality. Books have complemented the narrative quality of my work and provide an intimate setting for the viewer to experience the work not capable with an untouchable work on a wall. The works on paper and collage allow for the layering of surfaces and evolution of content. These pieces are often developed over long periods of time, so the collection of materials and imagery possess an honest depth. I also pursue the interaction of all these mediums and processes.

Erin Paradis, Week 3, Label

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Finding the White Album

In my childhood home's basement, the cold cement floor seeps through your socks as you walk through the clutter in dim light to the back wall of cobwebbed shelves. Stepping over old furniture, dated fitness machines, and boxes of random items, you pass the shelves of canned food with labels from grocery stores that aren't open any longer. Nearing the back of the cellar where there's been a dangling string since 1990 attached to a bulb for extra light, you tug on the frail string and the dusty shelves are illuminated.
After my parents divorce in 1992, everything was split in half. Apparently, this included their extensive record collection starting before their marriage in 1974. Luckily, some of the collection ended up on these old shelves in my father's basement rather than the garage sales my mother had.
Underneath some old John Denver records and probably some Jethro Tull, The White Album was preserved with no scratches, the full, shiny pictures of each band member, and the poster sized sheet with the lyrics on one side and the collage of them on the other.

Mara Duvra: artist statement

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My work investigates the nuances of identity through a progressive use of the female figure. I am interested in finding ways to reveal and obscure identity. Within my work the silhouette has served as a point of entry in exploring the emotive qualities possible with simple distilled forms that suggest for the viewer something more, a layered reality. My most recent work employs photography and digital printmaking as a means to convey a more visceral form of investigating the ephemeral relationship between identity and anonymity.
I create parallel realities with the recurring use of diptychs; allowing the viewer to use the context of their own experience to consider the connection present within a composition. In my work there is a creation of a sensuous portrait in the hopes of creating a feeling of the work before an intellectual understanding.
There is a sense of memory within the palette of black and white and tones of gray and brown. Within the movement and blur of the figures it brings about a sense of interiority, a depiction of an emotional state captured in the clarity of a photographic image.
The titles inspired by excerpts from novels and phrases from lyrics give the work an underlying narrative creating an elusive suggestion of memories from a distant past. I have become increasingly interested in this idea of loose narrative in my work. The artist book format adds an additional point of entry and understanding to my art. I want the viewer's senses to be engaged in the imagery, text, and the physicality of the pages. I use thin tissue like paper throughout my work as a means of conveying the transient nature of the figures in my work. My choice of materials is meant to mirror the softness and subtle nature of the qualities present in the work, corporeal and fleshy but also light and ephemeral.

Jim Hittinger, Week 3, Artist Statement

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My work deals with perception, and the mind's ability to compensate for missing

or obscured visual information. For example, driving on the highway during a severe

winter storm: everything outside of the car is a swirl of white. You can't make out the

shapes of the cars around you, but you can see the red of brake lights in front of you.

With that minimal amount of visual information, you are able to adjust and judge the

distance between you and the car in front of you, and how fast it is going. Two obscured

red lights in a field of white become your eyes' only reference point, and the mind uses

past knowledge and cognition to connect the dots. The same thing happens when you

see a house framed by Christmas lights, or a city skyline on a foggy night. What can

appear at first glance to be an abstract painting is actually a realistic representation of the

landscape as I saw it under certain conditions.

In addition to weather conditions that abstract the landscape, I have recently

become interested in photographic source material for painting. Similar to fog, snow, and

artificial light, there are elements of photography that obscure visual information. Lens

flares, halation, and the inherent flattening of space in photography create a different

version of the world than we see with our eyes. I don't try to recreate photographs

or make explicit the photographic reference. Instead, I use and exaggerate some

photographic effects while eliminating others, creating images that combine abstraction

and realism, giving them common ground with my landscapes.

John Waters "Guilty Pleasures"

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Dan Graham "Rock My Religion"

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Bob Nikkus "Theft Is Vision"

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3 artists, their statements- Candice Methe

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Laurie Lipton
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Laurie Lipton www.laurielipton.com
I wanted to learn to paint like the 17th century Flemish Masters, but no one could teach me. It was all abstract and conceptual art at my university, so I cut my classes and sat for hours in the library copying Durer, Memling and Van Eyck. I tried to teach myself how to paint in egg-tempera but constantly failed. Finally I developed a way of drawing that mimicked the technique by building up thousands of tiny lines to get a tone. It was an insane way to draw, and took a horrendous amout of time, but I was able to get the same kind of luminous detail that the Flemish painters had achieved.
Diane Arbus was another of my inspirations, and her use of black and white (the color of ghosts, memory and madness) opened up a world of possibilities for me.


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Julia Galloway www.juliagalloway.com
I am interested in pottery that is joyous; objects that weave into our daily lives through use. Pottery decorates our living spaces with character and elegance. Teapots celebrate our drinking tea; a pitcher decorates a mantel when not in use; a mug with slight texture inside the handle allows our fingers to discover uniqueness. Pottery is a reflection of us. In making cream and sugar sets I am curious about their own inherent dialogue; the set itself is reminiscent of close conversations and their ritual celebratory use.
An exhibition and gallery location is a brief but very important place for pottery. It is through the act of "show" that the public first comes to see and understand the work. Specific displays of pottery can bridge the viewer with the content in work. Displaying square tumblers on library-type shelves supports the ideas of all kinds of nourishment. Exhibiting cups at eye level decorated with the skyline of Rochester gives the viewer the sense of being inside looking outside.
I make pottery out of porcelain clay. It is extremely sensitive and responsive to the human touch when it's soft; when fired it becomes dense and strong. It is this responsive nature of clay that continues to interest me. It responds to your touch, then you respond to it. The same happens in the firing process with glaze materials and the atmosphere of the kiln. Clay is a supportive an demanding medium for the creative journey of making.
I am insistent about making things with my hands. A need for beautiful domestic objects and an instinctual drive to create things are tremendous dance partners for idea and desire. Utilitarian pottery supports and represents our intimate rituals of nourishment and celebration.

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Andy Goldsworthy www.goldsworthy.cc.gla.ac.uk/
For me looking, touching, material, place and form are all inseparable from the resulting work. It is difficult to say where one stops and another begins. Place is found by walking, direction determined by weather and season. I take the opportunity each day offers: if it is snowing, I work in snow, at leaf-fall it will be leaves; a blown over tree becomes a source of twigs and branches.
Movement, change, light growth and decay are the lifeblood of nature, the energies that I try to tap through my work. I need the shock of touch, the resistance of place, materials and weather, the earth as my source. I want to get under the surface. When I work with a leaf, rock, stick, it is not just that material itself, it is an opening into the processes of life within and around it. When I leave it, these processes continue.
The energy and space around a material are as important as the energy and the space within. The weather--rain, sun, snow, hail, calm--is that external space made visible. When I touch a rock, I am touching and working the space around it. It is not independent of its surroundings and the way it sits tells how it came to be there. In an effort to understand why that rock is there and where it is going, I must work with it in the area in which I found it.
I have become aware of raw nature is in a state of change and how that change is the key to understanding. I want my art to be sensitive and alert to changes in material, season and weather. Often I can only follow a train of thought while a particular weather condition persists. When a change comes, the idea must alter or it will, and often does, fail. I am sometimes left stranded by a change in the weather with half-understood feelings that have to travel with me until conditions are right for them to appear. All forms are to be found in nature, and there are many qualities within any material. By exploring them I hope to understand the whole. My work needs to include the loose and disordered within the nature of material as well as the tight and regular.
At its most successful, my 'touch' looks into the heart of nature; most days I don't even get close. These things are all part of the transient process that I cannot understand unless my touch is also transient--only in this way can the cycle remain unbroken and the process complete. I cannot explain the importance to me of being part of the place, its seasons and changes. Fourteen years ago I made a line of stones in Morecambe Bay. It is still there, buried under the sand, unseen. All my work still exists in some form.
My approach to photograph is kept simple, almost routine. All work, good and bad, is documented. I use standard film, a standard lens and no filters. Each work grows, strays, decays--integral parts of a cycle which the photograph shows at its height, marking the moment when the work is most alive. There is an intensity about a work at its peak that I hope is expresses in the image. Process and decay are implicit.

Response......

I had a hard time finding an artist statement for Laurie Lipton. This one is a bit vague but also interesting. After looking at Flemish paintings, which I was acquainted with, it was an interesting correlation. The luminous detail is most definitely there and the style but the subject matter is like a juxtaposition. If this indeed her artists statement I feel that there is still so much ground to cover. Her means of creating her peices are worth mentioning, as well as more of her inspirations.

Julia Galloway told me once that when she was in grad school that she single-handedly wanted to tear down the assumptions of clay as a lessor and bridge the gap between craft and fine art. She has been very successful in many ways. Her artist statement is very clear and concise. There is a direct link between what she says in her work and in her statement. She covers material, how her work fits into the world, how she views her work, what she strives for and where her vision is.

Andy Goldsworthy really captures his work through his statement. He talks about energy of the places in which his works are created, how that work is subjective because of the delicacy between nature and the elements and how he wants to "create not capture". So eloquent and spot on. It is as one might be able to see his work just by reading his statement. Through his words it is obvious to me that he is a man who is very aware.

Beth, Week 3, Label

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Hotel Pillow
2012
White cotton, duck and goose down, feathers

This pillow is from a set of four assigned to the bed in room 827 of the Doubletree Hotel in Rochester, Minnesota. At first glance it is the rigid block of a cold plaster cast. When punched, a swift swoosh cuts a vertical crease, pricking up the top corners like cat ears. Dust does not cloud from the punch, signaling the crisp cotton is densely woven. It smells of bleach and burn. When coaxed back to round and aligned with it's mate, they function as a cushion so the room's new temporary resident can check her email on her iPad. She attempts this but is distracted; abstracted. The starched and pressed pillowcase smells hot from the hotel linen press, and it calls to the guest to drop her head, just for a minute, but she is already late and really shouldn't. Densely-wrapped feathers are supportive, innocent in their white cotton dress as they lure the guest to rest her head, rest her eyes. Where's the harm. You know you want to.

Beth, Week 3, Artist Statement: Class Member

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My work examines ways we shape and experience the land, and how we use photography to mediate that experience. I use historical references and traditional processes to address contemporary issues of land use and our experience of time, raising questions of authenticity by picking apart our appropriation and approximation of classical forms.

180 words on the man to my left- Candice Methe

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Average, Average. Average. Khaki pants with a blue button up short sleeve shirt, adorned with the quintessential pen in this left breast pocket. 1980's Citizens watch strangling the hairy, pudgy wrist. Cell phone dangling off his belt to the right. Glasses, rimless. Short, dark hair specked with grey, salt and pepper. He is asleep while I analyze him. This soft, shapeless body encroaches on my personal, temporary territory. His arms are crossed and the sturdiness of his wiry arm hair reminds me a pubic hair carpet. His mouth is slightly open and through his moist pink mouth creeps the nose singe smell of halitosis. He is clean shaven that morning with the 5 o'clock shadow, shadowing in again at 9 am.
He smells of aftershave and yeasty fresh bread. Stetson maybe?
He is awake now, reading the paper, folding it over and over again, crinkle, crinkle, crinkle, trying to compensate for the tight, tight, tight space. My leg against his, I don't mind, I am doing my bit for humanity. He breaths heavily and I notice that his eyes are are pink and watery like his mouth. He is friendly and I notice he has no wedding ring.We depart the plane and he becomes invisible again.

Artist Statement- Candice Methe

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This is the artist statement from my BFA Show that has a specific theme: Birds as metaphors for memories.


My work is an exploration and connection to personal psychological spaces.
As a child I found myself wanting to escape or fly away to new places where I would be safe and comfortable. Birds, for me, suggest freedom and have the ability to occupy the earth as well as the sky. They defy gravity with their wings and hallow bones.

Memory and intimacy also occupy two worlds. Experiences are born in the physical and move to a place in which the mind can only go. Like aviaries, memories can feel the weightiness of gravity. Sometimes they are grounded, pecking and digging until they find a big, juicy worm. Other times they can be soaring high above, completely out of reach, almost out of sight.

While birds and memories sometimes occupy an ethereal place, clay has a very physical, grounded presence. I choose to carve out the surface, like one might chose to carve out an experience. By scratching through, I have the opportunity to imprint something personal and unique. Clay is of the earth, its weight and form dependent upon the maker. When something is created, the maker is committing that form to memory.

Creating work that is functional, yet alluring and engaging to a larger audience is the basis of my work. By combining the symbol of the bird, the idea of memory, with clay, I am working to create a poetic connection between the physical and the inconspicuous. When someone uses my work it is an invitation, and an opportunity, to build, and create moments for oneself.


Erin Paradis, Week 3, Artist Statement

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"Belief in the significance of architecture is premised on the notion that we are, for better or for worse, different people in different places and on the conviction that it is architecture's task to render vivid to us who we might ideally be."
-Alain de Botton

Every city has structures that are unique to its cultural history and geographical setting. The significance of each nations philosophical ideas, designs, and aesthetics shown through their architecture is enticing and engaging. Individual constructions contain a social and physical history layered through weather and time. The character of a building is unique to itself, yet when placed into a city dwelling or a rural setting, a different sensation of purpose and meaning is created.
Architecture and functional pottery share structural similarities in space, volume, and design. My work explores the two art forms and investigates their relationship. Ideas of the layering of time in conjunction with simplified aesthetic values of architecture, is articulated throughout my functional forms. The result shows a figurative representation of buildings, portraying composition, surface and subtleties in space.
My sculptural work delves into my perception of how structures within people's immediate surroundings may affect who they are. I examine curious spaces in towns that I have lived in, breaking down urban and industrial landscapes into basic shapes, colors, and surfaces. Implying architecture through these shapes, I create a new scenario and suggest that viewers see spaces through my perspective. This work reflects the environments in which I live and I strive to develop the psychological affect the surrounding architecture has on me.
Our physical settings influence us greatly, with or without our acknowledgment. Through ceramics I examine why these ideas interest me.

Erin Paradis, Week 2, Label

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Grandmother's Drum Table:

Placed in the corner of my dining room in my new apartment, my grandmother's beautiful drum table sits. Atop the dark polished wood is a hand made cloth with colorful detailed stitching that my great grandmother made, fitting the round top perfectly. Somehow I received this beautiful piece of furniture after my grandmother's passing.
Growing up going to my grandmother's house for holidays and special occasions throughout the years, a large 1970's gold lamp always stood in the middle of the table. Along side it, three or four jars of candy ranging from gummy bears to snickers and packets of m&m's, were always filled and ready for visitors. I loved grabbing candy from this table for an afternoon treat or an evening sweet tooth craving even after dessert. Inside the small drawer with the tiny metal handle were the decks of cards that we would play rummy with, being the favorite card game of my grandmother.
Having the table in my house now, in every passing, I am reminded of not just those memories of sweets and games, but also the memories of my family's happy gatherings in her apartment.

Intentions and Label.

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My intentions for grad school is to experiment, to take risks, to make work that I wouldn't have done otherwise. Try other mediums, sculpture, painting, drawing, video, printmaking, ceramics. To not be scared to make bad work as long as I'm making work. To learn to be patient with process, with myself and to enjoy the slowness of how much sometimes things take to make. To trust my thoughts, and intuition and to not second guess myself when is time to be sure about things. To learn to ask for guidance when lost. Be open to critique from people who have different aesthetics styles, different opinions. To take classes outside my field, psychology, sociology, American Studies, anthropology, media studies, etc. Learn Italian fully. To practice public speaking, attempt to become comfortable at it. To not be shy to network. To apply to grants. To only be in shows only when I feel something needs to be shown. To maybe make a website. Maybe. To indulge myself in art making. To be the kind of teacher to my students that I know I have connected with, and learned much from. To learn from my students, to enjoy their art making process. To have fun, travel, go somewhere far for a summer. To photograph. To not photograph. To write, write, write. Read, read, read, etc.


Label for my Apt.

Location is 307 Cedar Ave. S, Apt, Minneapolis, MN, 55454. Rent is 705 plus $50 for parking. One bedroom. The location is convenient, yet not my dream location of choice if I didn't have to attend school. I also would have not probably moved to Minneapolis if I didn't attend school here. Bathroom is located outside of unit. This is inconvenient when I need to use the restroom in the middle of the night. It entitles to put some kind of clothing every time I need to use the restroom; unless I manage to run really quickly and my neighbors don't happen to see me run naked to the bathroom. The purpose of this place is to provide shelter, warmth, protect me from outside irritants such as and not limited to, dirt, rain, snow, trash, rudeness, bad smells, crime, violence, etc. The last part is questionable. There were 5 gun shots outside my apartment three nights ago. The apartment did protect me from actually getting shot , so no qualms there. My big windows also let outside odors come to the apartment, and my sofa has been rained on if I forget to close my windows. The lease is up at 12:00 noon on July 31, 2013.

Erin Paradis- Week 2 self syllabus, context

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Self Syllabus

List One
1 history
2 travel
3 industry
4 worn
5 music
6 research
7 structures
8 artistic growth
9 personal growth
10 memory
11 geometric shapes
12 inspiration

List two
1 -My past and how I came to be who I am through my experiences.
-History in the buildings that become a part of my daily life and what types of feelings that I get from them. How does that inform my daily story?
-History in the sense of seeing the physical ware and use of these structures that I become fascinated with.
2 -Traveling abroad and witnessing the expansive history that has lived in one country.
-Traveling with in the US and relocating to 4 different states in the last 4 years. How has that shaped me and my work? How does each city transform my collected imagery which then reflects in my work?
3 -Industrial scenes intrigue me not so much for the product that is made their but the machinery and buildings that are used to make those products. Industrial sites have shapes and that are different than those shapes that would be in other structures. These shapes create interesting new imagery.
-The collected images of the spaces transfer into simplified drawings
4 -rugged, weather, layering, use, being lived in/lived with
5 -music in my own studio propelling my studio practice
-shows; experience of live music and seeing artists that have inspired you in your studio and in life
-podcasts, listening to stories
6 -past ceramic artists
-contemporary ceramic artists
-readings on psychological affects of architecture
-compiling recipes for clays, glazes, ceramic materials
7 -buildings themselves and how they function as a structure; what's their purpose, what was their purpose
8 -seeing my own artistic growth and getting excited about it and starting to visualize its evolution, which then propels my work to grow even more
9 -seeing who I was in the different cities I've lived in and where I've come personally; has each place made that happen or would that have happened if I stayed in one town?
10 -memory of lives lived in buildings
-memory of myself around those buildings
11 -simplification, basics, yet have a "weight" to them when they are simplified in my drawings
12 -inspiration from experiences and how that excitement might move my work or slow it down

Context

www.erinparadis.blogspot.com

There are definite periods of rapid progressions in my ceramic work and other periods of slower moving development. Much of the progression has to do with my frequent travel. I take imagery from these travels and the spaces I live in to inform my work. I am intrigued with how the spaces affect me not just artistically but personally and how each new place aids in my development and growth in these two ways.
I use a series of tools and steps to get to my finished results. Through travel, documentation, printing, xeroxing, drawing, and painting, I achieve an image that then informs my ceramic work. From there, slab, coil, or thrown processes give me the surface I want to then decorate on. I use multiple methods and materials to achieve the surface I desire on my work.

Self Syllabus

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Intimacy
Communication
Closeness
Intentions
Memory
Fabrication of memories
Longing
Quietness
Vulnerability
Strangers
Demands
Performance
Text
Experience
Awareness
Limitations
My mother
Language
Space
Our relationship to space and where I belong in it.
Wonder
Questions
Nostalgia
Wants/needs
Humor
Absurdity
Duane Michals
Sophie Calle
Elinor Carucci
Alec Soth
Francesca Woodman
Diane Arbus
Todd Hido
john baldessari
Miranda July
Philip Lorca Dicorcia
And other stuff.

Emily, Week 2: intentions

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Personal Practice:
My work is about rethinking how public spaces are used as places to live, interact, and be inspired. I have used alternative landscapes, new media, and temporary architecture to create experiences in space, and am investigating how shared memories affect the quality of a place.

Intentions:
Though my background is in architecture and I've completed a Masters in Landscape Architecture, the trajectory of my career is leading me into the realm of public art. I see the Graduate Minor in Art as a means of grounding myself in the discipline of artmaking, and intend to use this class as a moment to reflect on the work I've been creating and interpret it within a larger context or momentum. I recently participated in a few alternative projects over the summer, and find myself swinging in an in-between place. Though it's perfectly fun, the time must come to slow down, look around, and figure out where I am.

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Self Syllabus:

Lorena: context to my studio practice.

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Through my work, I explore the idea of human intimacy, whether by forced encounters or genuine connections; I attempt to investigate our intentions for closeness, as well as our discomforts and limitations that keep us alienated. By using photography, performance art, handmade books, and installation art: I place myself in situations that demand an immediate response for intimacy.

In my Sleeping with Strangers series, I was inspired by the conversations we have in bed before we fall asleep. I was interested in exploring how much a person can open up in their bed when just meeting you. I joined each stranger late at night, sharing as much of myself, as they shared with me. I photographed them throughout the night, recorded their sleeping habits, and transcribed our conversations.

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Digital fragmentation delves into the idea of intimacy and the internet, especially within social networks. As technology progresses, our ability to stay connected 24/7 increases; The question I ask with this work is, to what extent are we being intimate? Is there such thing as intimacy without privacy? The work presents photographs and text found in social networks; by removing it from the aura of the intangible world that is the internet, I'm attempting to examine what our actual intention is for this news-feed performance. What happens when the private and public sphere become blurred? Are we being sincere with our intentions to stay connected?

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My latest series, Fabricated memories; takes my work in a different direction. The series explores the function of photography to record memory. By photographing the casual or small moments of every day life; I am attempting to force such moments to become part of my permanent long term memory. The act of photographing fabricates the memories that would had been forgotten otherwise.

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Self Syllabus:

Movies

The Deer Hunter
Network
Manhattan
Some Like It Hot
Barton Fink
Back to the Future
Pump Up The Volume
Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (live action movie)
Walden or Diaries, Notes and Sketches

Artists

Edward Hopper
Mark Rothko
Bill Viola
Cezanne
Manet

Books

The Craftsman by Richard Sennett
The Spirit of Disobedience by Curtis White
Trickster Makes This World by Lewis Hyde
You Are Not a Gadget by Jaron Lanier
The Uses of Enchantment by Bruno Bettelheim
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein
Collected Poems by Wallace Stevens

Music

The Talking Heads
They Might Be Giants
Atmosphere
Jurassic 5
Thelonious Monk
Ahmad Jamal

180-Word Museum Label:

Bachelor Pad - Season 3

Reality Television Series - High Definition Digital Video
90 minutes per episode
2012

Bachelor Pad is serialized multidisciplinary performance artwork produced and presented for a network television audience, drawing heavily upon the modernist dramatic traditions of Bertolt Brecht's Theatre of Alienation and Antonin Arnaud's Theatre of Cruelty.

Participants in the show, with full knowledge of previous incarnations of related reality programs The Bachelor and The Bachelorette, move into a mansion together, where they compete, collude, and copulate with one another to avoid being eliminated from the competition before claiming a cash prize of $250,000.

In part a sociological experiment that plumbs the depths of the dark side of human nature wracked by the temptations of sex, alcohol and money, and in part an exploration of the problematic nature of representing "reality" in a heavily mediated culture, wherein participants are encouraged to "be themselves" under the disembodied gaze of the program's authorship - comprised of numerous invisible camera operators, sound recorders, lighting designers, directors and producers - Bachelor Pad is an exquisite cultural artifact of the early 21st century, at the pinnacle of the reality television genre.

Context & Intention:

I have been working with video since I was 14 years old. I went to a very classical Hollywood-style film program at USC, and set off after college to make mainstream narrative feature-length fiction films. However I found the whole "film industry" production process extremely tedious - both in its large-budget Hollywood incarnation and in the more intimate but essentially identical "independent" mode.

So, I began to explore a wide range of approaches to film and video, and found immense satisfaction in hand-processing 16mm film and creating live-feed performance and installation video elements.

I decided to apply to this MFA program because I feel a strong need for structure, mentorship and community in order to move forward with my practice as an artist.

Mara Duvra

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Self Syllabus

Music
Jane Eyre, Dario Marianelli (2011, soundtrack)
Upper Air, Bowerbirds
Fleet Foxes
To Build a Home, Cinematic Orchestra
The Middle East

Texts
Sylvia Plath
Emily Dickinson
The Yellow Wallpaper, Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Inside the Painter's Studio, Joe Fig
Nets by Jen Bervin

Artists
Kiki Smith
Judy Pfaff
Jenny Morgan
Falling Angels, Jiri Kylian (1989, choreographed dance)
Francesca Woodman


Words
Elegy
Palimpsest
Interiority

TV , Film & Internet
Jane Eyre, Cary Fukunaga (2011, film)
Art:21 Art in the Twenty-first Century Systems: Julie Mehretu (2009)
Romance: Judy Pfaff (2007)
Stories: Kiki Smith (2003)
The Gentlewoman http://the-gentlewoman.tumblr.com (blog)
Woolgathersome http://woolgathersome.blogspot.com/ (blog)
Pinterest

Context for practice
My practice has many influences. I am interested in the voice and perspective female authors such as Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson, and Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Music plays a large part in my creativity and I like the feeling I have when a song swells and soars, I like to be swept away by a song or a line of prose. I am interested in creating work that come together to distill these layered interest into one cohesive form. Currently my work is focused on combining printmaking and photography. Within both of these practices there is a tactile process of working that I truly enjoy. I like both the organic nature of making a print; rolling out ink, soaking paper and the physicality of pulling a print through the press. Photography offers a slightly more removed technical nature but it the immediacy of the imagery and the clarity of the idea that I find most attractive about this medium. My work is almost like a stream of consciousness constantly influenced by whatever music, films, or text I am engrossed in. In my titles there is a narrative quality that I feel adds another layer of context for viewers to consider when looking at my prints. I am interested in the poetry and psychology of the female figure and ideas if anonymity. In my work there is a creation of a sensuous portrait in the hopes of creating a feeling of the work before an intellectual understanding.

Label
I never thought living alone would feel like this. This place is unfamiliar, ominous even. I stand at the precipice feeling forever stuck just on the cusp. I make every attempt to avoid it even though at the end of the day I long for its stability and warmth. This new space is not truly a home and in moments I long for the real thing, but that has been cut off, displaced. This sensation wells up in me and I feel for a moment I am back and I will turn the corner and walk in the door and at any moment I will hear the familiar sounds of life. Here the silence blares only interrupted by the occasional creak or mechanic hum. So on each passing night I linger and wander until the inevitable hour arrives. I slowly move forward step after step thinking about what awaits, chiding myself. In moments of guilt I say a prayer of thanks for this place, because this is the place I call home and without it this sentiment would be replaced with a different kind of longing.

Josh: Self Syllabus

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Printmaking
Repetition
Patterns
Everyday objects
Obsolete technology
Typewriters
Projectors

Craft vs Fine Art (avant garde?)
References to Art History
Nothing specific

Gender Roles
Personal Reaction
Frustration/Resistance
Absurdity
Stupidity
Simplicity
Clumsiness
Humor
Iconography
Adolescents
Cartoons
Early Experiences
Immediate Environments

Anton Heyboer
Bruce Nauman
Joseph Beuys
Mike Kelley
John Baldessari
Alberto Burri
Max Beckmann
Carroll Cassill
Shiko Munakata
Gerhard Richter
Mark Dion
Matthew Barney
Ann Hamilton
Monica Kulicka
Francisco Goya
Neo Rauch

Josh: Context of Practice

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As a printmaker, extreme interest in repetition drives my process. I take patterns and objects from my surroundings and open a dialogue with art about them. My process feeds off art from the past and present. I make art about art.


Drawing Looper
http://www.joshuamcgarvey.com/?page_id=727

Printmaker's Dentention: A Conversation
http://www.joshuamcgarvey.com/?page_id=660

Emily, Week 2: Label

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Label the World: Ten Chances, No Hustle
(because they always ask, and I never know)

The Ten Chances/No Hustle Urban Artists' Residency, which has just completed its first cycle in Minneapolis, was conceived as a dedicated storefront space where artists could work, take chances, and experience the power of chance in their practice. It seems that artists frequently work in solitary pursuit of undefined objectives, or in the collaborative pursuit of a perceived outcome, but rarely work together heading into the unknown. If the street is a theatre, the temporary space became the stage, separate from passers-by but fully participating in the intricate and vibrating urban performance beyond its windows. It was both a protective incubator for residents to bring their projects and process, and a home base for artists to reach out into their surroundings and bring back their discoveries. The time and space we had together allowed each of us to pursue our own objectives, whether it be research, production, or personal development, in an environment of introspection, exploration, interpretation, and simple existence. No matter whether an individual works alone or in a group, in personal endeavors or for the greater good, no one ever works in a vacuum.

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Emily, Week 2: Self-syllabus

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Primary Resources:
Dezeen
MocoLoco
Archizen
Places Journal
New York Times
Monu
Designboom
Public Art Review

Primary Influences:
The Mississippi River
My hands, my sketchbook
Creative innovation
Potluck Dinners
Collaborations
Gordon Matta-Clark
Isamu Noguchi's playscapes
Bell Labs
John Cage/Merce Cunningham/Chance operations
Ann Hamilton
The Chaumont Garden Festival
Buckminster Fuller
Claude Cormier
Millennium Park
Robert Irwin

Jim Hittinger, Week 2, Context

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Context to My Studio Practice

I currently have two distinct bodies of work, which I'm in the process of merging into one. The first, which I have been working with the longest, is a body of landscape painting. I am interested in open, sparsely occupied spaces. I seek out strange weather conditions such as fog, rain, blizzards, and the like, in opposition to traditional landscapes that depict serene, ideal outdoor spaces. I like the idea of weather and lighting conditions creating abstraction in the real world. For example, if I do a painting of a rural highway before the sun is up on an exceptionally foggy morning. The image might consist of vague outlines of the road, the woods next to it, and streetlights blanketed in thick fog. At first glance, the image looks like an abstract dark color field with bright orbs of light. However, it is not meant to be abstract at all, but a rendering of an image from reality. One of the most enjoyable, rewarding parts of this process for me is gathering source material. I see gathering source material for paintings as an excuse to make aimless trips by myself. I really enjoy driving down the highway for no reason (which I can no longer do, as I sold my car before moving to Minneapolis), visiting parks, dull suburban subdivisions, and other open spaces. When I see a storm or fog in the forecast I get excited, and plan on trekking out to a prime location to watch.
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My other body of work deals with photographic sources. I received hundreds of family photos from my dad, ranging from the late 1800's to present. I've been making paintings based on some of these photographs, particularly the older ones with lots of imperfections and photographic artifacts (blurriness, lens flares, poor development). I see these elements of photography as acting in a similar to way to fog and snow on the landscape. An image of "reality" lies underneath, obscured by elements that mask its most obvious, recognizable forms. The only difference is that paintings based on photos are removed one more stop from the real world then paintings based from straight observation or memory. Using photography as a source also inherently brings in elements of personal history and memory more explicitly than my landscape work. I try to build up imagery in a way that it functions as more than a personal artifact for me. If I use a photo that my dad is in from the 60's, it will of course have an extra layer of meaning for me, but my hope is that the images have universal appeal regardless of the actual people and places in them.
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I've started working in a new territory that combines elements from both of these series. I didn't even realize the overlap in concept and form between these two modes of working at first. Now that I've drawn this parallel, I'm looking for ways to relate and combine photo-based imagery with first hand experience in the landscape.


Chris Groth Week 2

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MY PRACTICE

I am an artist who likes to make, think, tinker and wonder. The focus of my Art is rooted in materials, methods and techniques of making. Utilizing a myriad of processes to manipulate materials is at the core of what I explore. The variety of methods I use to create Art are as influential as my subjects. I am constantly working to understand my perceptions of the world around me by searching for details which hearken back to childhood discoveries. My Art involves interpreting an idea or experience and presenting it in an elemental fashion.

INTENTIONS/ASPIRATIONS

The purpose of following this course and this program are just one part of the path I have chosen in my life as a human and an artist. I will immerse myself in the rich environment that is 8400 and the MFA program, all the while I will be absorbing, thinking, reflecting, connecting, and making. I will build upon my current skill set and refine my ability to navigate this environment. I will absorb new theories, artists, histories, processes, materials, and the many other experiences which I will encounter. I will evolve my own thought processes, as well as my ability to reflect on them. I will nurture new connections with artists, organizations, and others with interest similar to mine. I will make, create, and manifest my emotions, thoughts and reactions throughout the entire process.

LABEL

Mold Stamp

A mold stamp is a tool used to apply signage to a particular mold or set of molds. It is a handled die with a positive image affixed. When hammered into molding materials a negative of the die image will result, marking that mold as one of a specific vein. My particular stamp is designed with a four inch handle and two inch image plate. My stamp is not realized yet. That is, I have only made a mold of my mold stamp. Carved into sand as a three dimensional negative, my mold stamp is now manifest in the form for which it has been created. The image carved into the die half of this mold is the negative space I will translate into all of my future molds. It is not an image which will appear on the physical work. Instead it is only meant to adorn the mold, the form in which my work will be shaped. The ritual of stamping a mold may be likened to a print maker signing a proof bon à tirer. It is a show of approval or acknowledgement of progress.

SELF-SYLLABUS

Foods
chutney, cheese curds, charcoal grill, canning, beer, hot sauce, curry, brats with sauerkraut and beans, fresh tomatoes and basil, gardening, fishing, pizza, coffee, trail mix, tapas, pickled eggs/veggies,

Books/Publications
Cooks Illustrated
Toilets of the World
Art in Theory- Harrison, Wood
The Wind and The Willows
July's People
Sculpture
Catalouges (McMaster Carr...)
Humble Masterpieces: Everyday Marvels of Design

Websites
http://www.instructables.com/
http://www.howstuffworks.com/
http://minneapolis.craigslist.org/
http://www.weather.com/weather/right-now/USMN0503:1:US

Podcasts

This American Life
The Moth
RadioLab
Howstuff works

Materials
hot glue, plaster, cellophane, paper, iron, aluminum, receipt paper, wire, cedar, glass, fabric, cloth, string, charcoal, photosensitive paper, tape, tool dip, paint, chalk, sand, bronze,

Processes
welding, drilling, casting, cooking, molding, grilling, printing, carving, building, felting, forging, baking, slicing, modeling, sketching, cleaning,

Places

da UP
studio
braais- south african bbqs
porch/deck
sauna
kitchen
new places

Some objects I love
staplers, scissors, tools, brayers, fans, clamps, nuts, bolts, almost anything I am not sure what it is or what its used for, jars,

Others...
I am fascinated by materials. What are its characteristics? Where is it from? What can/can't it do? What is its history?

I often think of the religious and spiritual tradition of my family and where I am in relation.

I ask myself many questions, most of which I don't answer. Often I don't try to answer them.

Josh, Week 4, New Artist Statement

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Personal context influences my creative practice through reflexive observation within my immediate environment. The mundane, spectacular, and irregular aspects of everyday routine find a significant role within my process to investigate anything that tickles my fancy. As an artist that finds he working in a space (a studio) provided by an academic form of the art world, my relationship with this space and the things done in the space become linked to said context. Examining the role of an artist, as an artist, celebrates the open nature of the creative process. Art that talks to art about how fascinating, stupid, smart, clever, ironic, sad, happy, nostalgic, confrontational, dark, light, and limitless it is.
My artistic practice utilizes the transformative qualities of creative exploration to closely examine the nature of my identity as an artist through an in depth analysis of the objects, subjects, and actions present in my day-to-day. When something is done in the studio, the context is transmuted into an isolated experience between the artist and the idea or work. This broad framework remains personal and honest in an attempt to refrain from overly fetishizing an end result (art product); this emphasis on the role of the artist does not aim to glorify it but to examine, manipulate, and have fun with it.
Stressing routine and an extreme interest in repetition and patterning lends to printmaking media. Repetition in repetition: this endless idea is all at once soothing and overwhelming. It also manipulates context through duplication. For instance, the change from unique to multiple highlights a value shift, but my practice embraces the concept of the copy on multiple levels. I beg, borrow, and steal. Embezzlement of images, ideas, and words feeds my process with a nourished infatuation with other artists, but also the use or negation of multiplicity in my own works finds significance in my creative procedure. The use of found crocheted materials created through the repetitive and patterned weaving of fibers, as well as the historic passing of the skill between generations, as a print base supplies a continuous repetition of form and concept.

In my surrounding environment, the personal environmental impact of my creative practice, through reflexive observed. Mundane, spectacular daily routine irregular funny I like to find a significant role in the course of my investigation. Art world as an artist, found him in a space (studio) academic form, the relationship between this space and things to do in the space becomes the environment. Examining the role as an artist's artist, to celebrate the opening up of the creative process. Art, the art of negotiation about how fascinating, silly, smart, clever, ironically, sad, happy, nostalgic, confrontational, dark, light, and unlimited.
Take advantage of changes in the quality of my artistic practice, creative exploration, double-check my identity as an artist through the in-depth analysis of the object disciplinary nature, in my day-to-day actions. When the thing to do in the studio, the context between the idea of the artist or the work is transformed into an isolated experience. This broad framework is still personal and honest, try to avoid too blind fascination with the final result (art products), this emphasis on the role of the artist is not intended to beautify it, check processing, and it's fun.
Stressed the program and a great deal of interest in repetition and patterns suited to printmaking media. Repeat repeat: endless ideas in a soothing and overriding. It also manipulate the background, by repeating. For example, the value of the unique highlights shift change, but I practice contains a copy of the concept of multi-level. I beg, borrow, and steal. The image of corruption, philosophy, and textual information in the process, with the significance of the nourish fascination with other artists, but also to use or deny the diversity found in their own works, in my creative process. Crochet material through repetition and pattern woven fibers, as well as historic by generations between skills, as the use of the printmaking base provides a form of repeated and concepts.

Observe my surroundings, personal impact on the environment of my creative practice through reflexive. Ordinary, become a spectacular day-to-day irregular interesting, in the course of my investigation, I like to find a significant role. The art world as an artist, found him in a space (studio) the relationship between the academic form, space and space activities become environment. Examining the role of an artist's artist, open to celebrate the creative process. Negotiations art, how charming, stupid, smart, clever, ironically, sad, happy, nostalgic, confrontational, dark, light, and unlimited artistic.
Take advantage of changes in the quality of my artistic practice, creative exploration, check my identity as an artist, in-depth analysis of the object-disciplinary nature, in my day-to-day actions. When things do in the studio, the context between the ideas of artists or works as an isolated experience. Broad framework, is still personal and honest, try to avoid too fetishizing End Results (art) the role of the artist, this emphasis does not intend to beautify, check processing, it's fun.
Stressing the program and a lot of repetition and patterns suitable for printmaking media interest. Repeat repeat: endless ideas in soothing and overwhelming. It also manipulate the background, by repeating. For example, the unique highlights shift the value of change, but I practice contains a copy of the multi-level concept. I beg, borrow, and steal. Image corruption, philosophy, and the process of text information, and nourish the significance of the charm of the other artists, also found in the diversity of their own works, or refuse to use my creative process. Crochet materials and skills through repetition and pattern of non-woven fibers, as well as the long history between the generations, as the use of the printmaking base some form of repeated and concepts.

Beth, Week 2, A book from the WAC library

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Angela Grauerholz: The Inexhaustible Image
Martha Hanna, Marnie Fleming and Olivier Asselin, National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa, 2010, 240 p., bilingual

A quote from the book that caught my attention, from an essay by Marnie Fleming describing Grauerholz's piece, "Églogue ou Filling the Landscape," (p. 81):

"If we were to take a close look at the structure of the museum, we would see that it follows the paradigm of the archive - the parcelling of objects into rigid categories according to medium, in which artworks are examined for style, attributions, dating, authenticity, and meaning. Artworks are divided into various historic periods or by media. These divisions and classifications reveal the modern epistemology of art, where more often than not it is made to appear autonomous, or something that is apart; referring only to its own internal history and workings. The effective removal of art from its direct engagement in social life and its placement in an autonomous realm prevailed, and continues to prevail, within the museum."

I kept walking past this book on the shelf, and it's bright bookcloth spine called at me. I relented and slipped it off the shelf because the binding was interesting (and pretty!). I had never heard of Angela Grauerholz, and am glad to know about her work. I'm a photographer using historical references and processes to address contemporary issues of our experiences with time and space. Grauerholz's work with archive models is elegant and comprehensive. I'm especially drawn to her investigations into how we navigate space, and how we use photography to mediate that experience.

The quote I selected describes an interesting geometry, where assorted timelines of the museum/archive run parallel to the external world and rarely intersect ordinary reality.

Here is my second lesson learned, as I am also moving into the book arts: an interesting spine will lure the distractible.

Beth, Week 2, Context to My Practice

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I'm a photographer who mashes historic references with contemporary issues of land use and our experience of time. My subjects have ranged from formal gardens in England to ruins in Rome and Greece and their curious quotations in the local landscape.

My web site: http://www.bethdow.com

I've recently moved into approaching the same phenomenon from the other side, using digital tools to cut away at the simple photographic document.

Beth, Week 2, My intentions for an MFA

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I'm been exhibiting my work for years now, have received some amazing fellowships, and have been reviewed in The New Yorker, Boston Globe, Wall Street Journal, Village Voice, and other publications, yet I've always regretted that I didn't have MFA on my résumé because I want to teach. On my grad school application I wrote that I want to teach what I know, and learn what I don't. I regret that life got in the way of doing this sooner, but I wouldn't give up any of my experiences. I'm been exhibiting my work for years now, have received some amazing fellowships, and have been reviewed in The New Yorker, Boston Globe, Wall Street Journal, Village Voice, and other publications, yet I've always regretted that I didn't have MFA on my résumé because I want to teach. On my grad school application I wrote that I want to teach what I know, and learn what I don't. I regret that life got in the way of doing this sooner, but I wouldn't give up any of my experiences.

Beth, Week 2, Label the world

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A Set of Simple Stacking Chairs, Incomplete
Polypropylene and powder-coated steel
Mass-produced in Sweden, circa 2005

These lightweight chairs are from a set of 4 that the artist had intended to keep tidily stacked for occasional use. Instead, they can be found outside holding up the grill cover, in the corner holding up portfolio cases, at the desk holding up the artist, and, in the case of the fourth, not found at all. It might be found in the son's room. Were one inclined to look.

These chairs were not meant for long hours at a desk, as the artist has discovered, but there you have it. The chair she sits on is good enough; good enough, goddamnit.

The purchasing of four matching chairs that actually matched because they were the same was an organizational experiment. Their current dislocation illustrates the unexpected portability and utility of the individual pieces, while the rupturing of their set suggests the chaos and industry of their custodial family. If the artist does, in fact, find the missing member dismantled in the garage with similarly scandalized bikes, so help me. So help us all.

Beth, Week 2, A self-syllabus draft, random and unedited

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LITERATURE, VINTAGE
Samuel Beckett
- Krapp's Last Tape (A late evening in the future.)
- Waiting for Godot (A country road. A tree. Evening.)
- Endgame (Bare interior. Grey light.)
Raymond Chandler
Sinclair Lewis
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Vita Sackville-West (The Garden, 1946)

LITERATURE, CONTEMPORARY
Working on it

MUSIC
Nick Cave
Blur
Cabaret Voltaire
Joy Division
Antony & the Johnsons
Blitzen Trapper
Led Zeppelin
The Staples
Earth, WInd, & Fire
Whatever makes me dance

CINEMA
Working on it

ARTISTS
Richard Wentworth
Tacita Dean ("The Russian Ending", 2001)
Madame Yevonde ("The Goddesses", 1935)
John Davies ("Agecroft Power Station, Salford", 1983)
Goerge Cruikshank cartoons
This list will be long

PLACES I HAVE BEEN THAT MEANT SOMETHING
Sissinghurst Castle Garden
Levens Hall
Westminster Abbey
Lacock Abbey
The Roman Forum
The Washington Monument
The Badlands, South Dakota

THINGS I HAVE SEEN THAT MEANT SOMETHING
Gallileo's middle finger (The Museum of the History of Science, Florence)
Camera obscura at Edinburgh Castle
Someone die
Someone born

FAVORITE POSSESSIONS
Silver pendant, "Puolikuu", by Tapio Wirkkala, Finland, 1971
My book and photo collections

GRAPHIC OBJECTS THAT EXCITE ME
Constructivist graphics
Dada photomontages
Winslow Health and Hygiene charts
Clumsily retouched vintage photographs
Graphs and diagrams without their context
Drawings

MISCELLANEOUS THINGS I LOVE
Grand gestures
Word play
Smart-asses
Dark humor
Rose and violet créme chocolates from Prestat, Princes Arcade, London
Mystery
Mayhem
Dogs

Inspirations, Intentions and 180 words- Candice Methe

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Lists: I did more of a list and then more of an elaboration on that list

Primary sources of inspiration in no particular order.
1. Nature
2. Books
3. Travel
4.Images from the late 18th early, mid 19th centuries
5. Happenstance
6. printmaking primarily relief printmaking
7. my own personal history and experiences
8.fabric, textiles
9.Islamic art
10. My astrological sign; the gemini.

Elaboration on my top 10 list
1. Nature. a place of spirituality and healing for me. I prefer the wilderness but the woods will do in a pinch. Trees, flowers, plant life, insects, birds, animals, dirt, rock and the elements.
2.I love art books, especially the ones I can reference visually. Right now I am looking at Henry Darger for his use of color and composition. I also love my sketch book that I would LOVE to be able to spend more time with.
3.Travel! Take me anywhere. I love to see how other cultures live, especially artists.
4.My favorite photo is my Father in his WW2 Uniform. I have a colllection of old photographs, they are very intriguing!
5.The small, fleeting moments of beauty or ugliness that can appear and unfold at any moment, only to be gone in the blink of an eye.
6. I love relief printing. I love the line quality and organic richness.
7.My personal experiences and history. I imagine this one will be on everyone's list. Still trying to recognize how I fit into my artwork. I know its in there somewhere.
8.Textiles, especially those of historical value. soft, supple, under-appreciated, again drawn to the organic.
9.I get really excited about Islamic art, particularly Persian Miniature Paintings and there metal work.
10. Im not huge into astrology but I believe there is something to be said about the nature of people. I do have a blessed/cursed duality which lends itself to juxtaposition, creativeness and indecision.
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Intentions.............

My intentions for my MFA are pretty straight forward. I would like to create a body of work that I am strongly satisfied with and effectively conveys to others and myself a sense of self. I would like to make a name for myself within my field of functional ceramics, as well as create relationships with galleries.
As far as my intention for this course I want to learn to talk, discuss and articulate about art and art practices effectively and coherently. I feel like a deer in the headlights.


180 words

I have once been told that they are of the peasant variety, while on another occasion I was informed that they appeared to be very.... sturdy. As a child they were categorized as Flintstones and now as I approach middle age in earnest, they grow wider, they hurt all the time and yes, they are sturdy.
At the thrift store I try to cram and wrestle them into places they don't belong with the embarrassing notion of "should have known better". So narrow, too small are the places my feet don't belong.
Decorating the nails as a celebration of my femininity. At the salon, my feet look out of place in the hands of such small and delicate women, even against the garishness of my surroundings.
I have the same feet as the other woman in my family. My sister's are significantly wider and larger then my own and taking on a scaly appearance and with an arch long left behind. An adjective that she has encountered in her travels was "floppy". Doled out by the imagination of a medical expert. My mother's are more reptilian, with the absence of nails, replaced with a crust of fungus that always seemed to be more welcome then worth the trouble.



Yoko Ono, excerpts from Grapefruit

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Geoff Dyer, excerpt from The Ongoing Moment

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Molly Zucherman-Hartung, The 95 Theses on Painting

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Susan Sontag, "Against Interpretation"

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Stan Brakhage, "From Metaphors on Vision"

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MIRROR MUSEUM Syllabus

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Week 1 reading: Daniel Buren

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