Breaking news, upcoming events, and periodic musings from the Weisman Art Museum.
February 8, 2010
Shop for your sweetheart at the WAM Store
Find everything you need to please your sweetheart this Valentine's Day at the Weisman Art Museum Store. Need gift ideas? Check out the list of hand-picked selections below.
by Camille LeFevre
Twin Cities Arts Journalist, 2009/2010 WAMbassador
"Quotidian" is the smarty-pants word for "daily," "everyday," "commonplace." Since Marcel Duchamp turned a urinal upside down and called it art in 1917, the bold re-contextualization of the everyday (even the banal) into the elite echelons of artistic expression and enterprise has been hotly contested. Transforming the everyday into art has no doubt contributed to the democratization -the great flattening and leveling--of our culture at large (reality TV anyone?). When it comes to what gets hung a gallery wall, the results, as the Weisman Art Museum's new show Common Sense: Art and the Quotidian demonstrates, range from iconoclastic innovation to reflections of soul-deadening conformity.
Curator Diane Mullin assembled the show from the Weisman's formidable archives and loans from local collections. The work ranges from Walker Evans's 1930 haunting photographs of the working poor and disenfranchised to Luke Dubois's recent "eye charts" created from common words used in the State of Union addresses by U.S. presidents. Three particular images stayed with me from a walk through last week, however.
One was Andy Warhol's 1968-69 screenprint New England Clam Chowder. Warhol's re-contextualization of commercial grocery products (and their designs)--particularly the Campbell's soup cans--was arguably every bit as revolutionary as Duchamp's readymades (like the urinal). Hung next to James Rosenquist's 1964-65 Spaghetti and Grass--which resembles a mess of SpaghettiOs® in its top panel and artificial turf grass below--the two works sum up the mass processing and production of new foods and nature for the general masses beginning to take hold in the mid-20th century.
By the time visitors get to Anthony Marchetti's photograph Apartment for Rent, the processing of our very humdrum lives into generic, utilitarian living space produced for the masses is on display. Within the bleak beige-walled box--with a single Venetian-blinded window--the décor is limited to multiple electrical outlets, an air conditioner embedded in one wall, and a long length of cable cord winding spaghetti-like (or perhaps as an umbilical cord) along the floor. In this image is an existential question that leaves me feeling bereft, grieving for the souls that find themselves there and for a culture that allows such places to be.
Music is at the center of WAMplified!, a new late-night series at the Weisman. Offered three times a year, WAMplified! presents a live performance by a band or musician with a thematic connection to the major exhibition in the galleries. In conjunction with the exhibition Common Sense: Art and the Quotidian, Har Mar Superstar headlines this installment.
Your ticket also gets you:
Free food,
2 free drink tickets,
Access to the Samsung video game lounge, and
a midnight tour of the exhibition led by a curator or artist
.
Tickets go on sale starting January 22, 2010. Doors are at 9 p.m. For tickets, call 612-625-2345 or order online here.
Read more about the music here. No one under 18 years of age will be admitted to this event. You must present a valid photo I.D. to be admitted.
Kiss Off (1971) was made specifically for the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design (NSCAD) Lithography Workshop, an innovative program that brought many conceptual artists, including Acconci, along with Dan Graham and John Baldessari, to produce prints as artists-in-residence throughout the program's run from 1969-1976.
The artwork's multilayered status as both a print and a performance allows for it to exist in an ambiguous state, where it is not fully one thing or another, but always in a state of perpetual "becoming." This act ties together performance and its invariable notion of the body as an artistic medium with the traditional printmaking process and its embrace of reproduction as a means to dissolve the rarified, singular artwork. Not just a formal exercise, in his early performance works, Acconci never shied away from attempts to reevaluate what can be known about gender through attempts to transform and alter the human body. From the process of Kiss Off's construction at the NSCAD workshop to the print's exhibition at the Sonnabend Gallery in New York, this artwork pinpoints a unique moment in Acconci's career. At the same time, it displays motifs common to his other works from the 1970s, including the attempt to dissolve the rigid boundaries between binary oppositions such as male/female.
For this print, one of three that Acconci produced during his tenure at NSCAD (the other two being Trademarks and Touch Stone (for VL)), Acconci coated his mouth with red lipstick and then planted kisses all over his body before rubbing himself onto the printing stone. In this artwork, the body becomes a discrete unit capable of mechanical reproduction, a quality similar to the printmaking medium's ability to produce multiples since an original image can be copied ad infinitum. Beyond printmaking, an interest in the relationship between an original image and its manifestation as a multiple corresponded with this era's interest in serial forms. Most closely associated with Minimalism, seriality was the physical expression of a repeated element in an artwork--think of Andy Warhol's Brillo boxes--exploring ideas of similarity and variance through the lens of industrial mass-production. The critic Robert Pincus-Witten once described Acconci's work as "a fusion of the Minimalist position in sculpture with a refreshed comprehension of the erotic implications in Duchamp's late sexual works...." This exploration of Minimalist concerns collided with Acconci's inclusion of the physical body as an artistic medium.
During the 1970s, Acconci often discussed his performance in terms of a calculated exploration of language systems--he began his art practice as a poet--but the body cannot be easily compartmentalized into a seemingly neutral linguistic component. In an interview with Cindy Nemser for Arts magazine, he described his work's gendered implications by stating, "I'm offering the possibility of constant movement, whether I change from a male to a female category or from a socially accepted position to a socially unaccepted one...I want to build up an idea of life--the idea that people can change from one role to another. People don't have to be limited by roles, they don't have to be rigidly enclosed in categories." Acconci marked his body with traces of the feminine, traces that resisted full erasure since he could not easily rid himself of--not able to kiss off--his sticky, red-stained lips.
Kiss Off was shown at the Sonnabend Gallery for a solo exhibition of Acconci's work which ran from September 16 through October 7, 1972. Run by the European-born Ileana Sonnabend, the gallery was well known for giving shows to a range of emerging American Post-Minimalists and providing opportunities for artists to stage sometimes controversial but frequently memorable performances that fell outside the normal parameters for commercial gallery exhibitions. In 1972 alone, the performances held at Sonnabend included Gilbert and George's Singing Sculpture and Acconci's Seedbed, the latter held prior to the exhibition of Kiss Off.
For Seedbed, a ramplike floor was constructed in the gallery underneath which, for two afternoons a week throughout the exhibition, Acconci crouched while engaged in what he described as a "private sexual activity." Visitors to the gallery could walk over and onto the structure that housed Acconci below, hidden in this ambiguously poised symbolic space for latent desires, a place for the artist's ego to exist away from the presumptions of an audience.
Due to Seedbed's performance at Sonnabend just a few months prior to the exhibition of Kiss Off, as well as sharing the motif of using the body as a site to explore the performative capacity of gender, the critical response consisted of surprise at the seeming lack of ribaldry or potential for violence. In Arts magazine, one reviewer described it as a "tamer version of that really ugly sex change piece" [Conversions, 1971]. In this work, Acconci attempted a variety of exercises to turn himself into a woman. Some exercises incited pain, including one where he burned off his chest hair. In another, he infamously inserted his penis into his partner Kathy Dillon's mouth as she crouched behind him, en effet hiding his genitals from view. Kiss Off similarly reevaluates gender as a thing requiring continuous transformations between what can be revealed and hidden. Acconci's wearing and then wiping off of lipstick enacts a closed system where his repetitive act of self-love can enact no permanent change, only temporary states of being.
More so than Conversions, a work that invokes similar themes (and lipstick) is Applications (1970), a group performance that involved Dillon, Acconci, and the artist Dennis Oppenheim. Dillon covered Acconci's arms and legs with lipstick-stained kisses which Acconci then transferred--or, to be blunt, humped--onto Oppenheim's back. Acconci later recalled about this performance: "And I remember Dennis afterward saying, 'I had no idea the work was going in this direction!' We thought this was about color transfer. Wasn't about color transfer." Indeed.
The dynamic struggle between artist/viewer, male/female, and self/other, motifs repeated throughout the range of Acconci's performance and conceptual works, frequently resulted in audiences assuming he was interested in heedless sadism--think of his 1971 work Claim where, hiding in a basement, he threatened to bludgeon with a crowbar anyone in the audience who dared come near. However, just as his performances were critiqued for their ribald shock value, as well as their potential for sexism, this all created a buzz about his work, resulting in a sort of critical notoriety. It left room for much discussion and many reviews of his early performances. Indelibly, shock value sometimes helps to cement an artist's place in history by leaving a large amount of documentation about the work for later generations to historicize.
In the 1980s, Acconci discussed in an interview how he could no longer negotiate a clear position for himself in regard to his earlier performance works, stating, "On one hand, I want to defend those pieces, and on the other, I have a feeling that they are really sexist...I certainly wouldn't do anything like that again in public and I hope I wouldn't do it in private. I hate maleness and I hate male domination, but because it is so culturally embedded I can readily fall into it." Regardless of whether sexism is a viable critique, what these performances and their respective documentation herald is a rupture in thought regarding the wholeness of a subject, whether male or female, and how the binary terms are unstable constructions through their need to be put on and repeated in order to achieve any validity, like an actor who becomes alive as a character but only during the theatre performance with the help of a costume.
James Meyer, in a discussion of the type of subject produced by Minimalist art practice--a discussion that can also apply to Acconci's early performance works--described the concern with the subject matter as "the momentary plentitude of one who is not whole; a subject who is opaque to himself and others; a self who attempts to communicate in a world where language invariably misfires." As a former poet, Acconci traded the language of words for that of the body, but it remains a language that fails to transcend.
They got WAMmered: ceremonial groundbreaking 10/26
"Get WAMmered" was the theme of the ceremonial groundbreaking celebration at the Weisman Monday, October 26. It marked the beginning of construction on the museum's 8,100 square foot expansion project, which will add five new galleries by fall 2011.
Watch a video:
Visitors lifted a hammer and tested their strength on the High Striker. (Those who hit the bell at the top won a limited-edition t-shirt.)
University president Robert Bruininks noted the importance of the occasion in his remarks to attendees. "This is an exciting moment for the Weisman," he said. "But it is exciting for the University of Minnesota as well, as we contemplate our enormous cultural and artistic resources, and as we work to integrate arts and culture more closely into the life and curriculum of the University."
Museum volunteers raised more than $10 million from private sources for the expansion project. Target Corporation committed an additional $2 million, and the University of Minnesota contributed $2.5 million.
Joan Dayton, who co-chaired the project's capital campaign, also spoke at the event. (Carol Bemis and Karen Bachman were the other campaign co-chairs.) University vice president Steven Rosenstone and Target Corporation vice president Minda Gralnek made additional remarks.
Officials marked the occasion by raising a silver sledgehammer and pounding a steel stake into the ground where the construction will take place.
Marsden Hartley's Portrait, 1914-15, is one of twelve paintings in his War Motif series. Made in Berlin during the artist's first stay in this, his beloved city of military pageant and masculine spectacle, the War Motif paintings depict the city and commemorate Hartley's companion and lover Karl von Freyburg, a German officer who perished in the early days of the first World War. The style and execution of Portrait is akin to Picasso's synthetic cubism of the same moment. In fact, Hartley owes a great debt to the Spanish-born, Paris-based modernist innovator whose work he knew from his stay in Paris in 1912 where he intersected with such cultural lights as Gertrude and Leo Stein and also the sculptor Arnold Rönnebeck and his cousin, Karl von Freyburg. It was this German pair who introduced Hartley to Berlin.
Portrait is both a lament for Hartley's lost partner and a celebration of the vibrant city that was their home. Hartley utilized symbolic forms to memorialize von Freyburg and their personal attachment. Such symbols include the cross at center bottom, which references the Iron Cross awarded Von Freyburg posthumously, and the numeral 4, which was the soldier's infantry number and the artist's house number in Berlin. The letter E painted at the lower left of the cross connects the artist to von Freyburg through its referral to both men--E is the first letter of Hartley's original first name (Edmund) and the letter sewn into the shoulder epaulette of many German army uniforms. Also present in the canvas are images of a Berlin's vibrant military culture that was much admired by Hartley. This can be seen in the black, white, and red lines that wave like the German flag through the center of the painting and in the abstracted image of the plumed helmet of Germany's Imperial period in the canvas's upper center.
Berlin was in the end, however, more than a triumphant spectacle of order and might for Hartley. It was also a place of personal liberation in that it was arguably the first modern city to tolerate and accommodate a gay culture. Even if a pale version of what today we would call a liberated attitude about homosexuality, Berlin in the early years of the twentieth century was home to some of the first voices and policies of tolerance on record. Although Hartley loved the city and the life it allowed him, because of political pressures he necessarily returned to the United States in 1915. Hartley never really got over either von Freyburg or Berlin--echoes of both are visible in his written and artistic work ever after.
2009-10 exhibition season focuses on art and the everyday
Home videos posted on YouTube. Personal photos shared with the world on Flickr. The widespread appeal of the Do-It-Yourself cable channel. America's fascination with "everyday" life is clear. Beginning this fall, the Weisman Art Museum (WAM) will launch a yearlong exploration of the idea of the everyday in art and culture.
This fascination with the everyday-and its relationship to art-isn't unique to contemporary times. American artists have explored themes of the everyday for decade. For example, in the early 20th century, American painters founded the Ashcan School and depicted the street life of New York City. Later, in the 1960s and 1970s, artists like Robert Rauschenberg and Joseph Beuys questioned the distinctions between art objects and everyday objects.
Weisman Art Mob visits a shabby house turned modern home
Interior windows and translucent walls. Waterfall-tread steel stairs. Paired single-car garages. These are a few of the innovative elements that make architect Geoffrey Warner's Saint Paul bungalow an ideal family home.
For their July event, Weisman Art Mob members were invited inside the home and immediately began to comment on its thoughtfully planned living spaces, constructed with a blend of traditional and innovative building materials. Warner is principal architect at Alchemy Architects and his house, known as the Goodrich House, was one of many custom architecture projects for the firm. Alchemy is best known for its weeHouse, a modern manufactured home that arrives on lots in prefabricated portions and is assembled in hours.
Warner and his wife Dawn De Kayser--also an architect--purchased the home despite its sagging floors, impractical room divisions, dark spaces, and an unfinished upstairs. He and Dawn wanted to create a practical and functional space for their family of four to thrive for years to come. Their strategy was to remove unnecessary walls and create room divisions through building storage elements and custom furniture. They installed skylights, translucent walls, and interior windows to keep the house naturally and efficiently illuminated, even into the twilight hours.
Outside, the Warners have created an expansive-feeling space within their standard city lot. With landscaping help from Phillips Garden, the yard is colorfully cast using a variety of materials including Ipe decking, copper, siding, rocks, and grasses. Twin garages nestled neatly near a tidy vegetable garden and connected by a weathered steel alley wall add a historical feel and lots of charm.
Warner (pictured above right), De Kayser, and Alchemy Architects operations manager Betsy Gabler carried on individual conversations with Art Mobbers throughout the night. Members left for the evening having experienced a home that is balanced between ornate and functional, sensible and lush, and traditional and modern.
The next learning adventure for Art Mob members takes place in September; a walking tour of the U of M's public art collection. Learn more about Art Mob membership and view a full calendar of events.
From the collection: Lyonel Feininger's Drobsdorf I
This regular series offers a glimpse into the Weisman's permanent collection. Each post features an object currently on view in the galleries.
Lyonel Feininger (1871-1956) is known for paintings of landscape and architectural scenes that depict the environment through layered, structured planes of space. Feininger, an American expatriate who resided in Germany until World War II, originally trained as a musician, but developed into a cartoonist in the early 1900's. It was after his encounter with the French cubists in 1911 that he realized his unique painting style.
Feininger insisted that unlike cubism, a movement in which planes of space were also fractured to present the viewer with an alternate way of viewing the world, his technique created depth instead of drawing attention to the surface. The artist's fascination with landscape and architectural scenes allowed him to explore themes of light versus shadow, and material versus immaterial. In his paintings, each of these qualities embodies the same weight and presence as the other, effectively merging the tangible and intangible.
Drobsdorf I was painted along the shore of a coastal European town. It depicts a white church whose tall spire creates a sense of ascending motion. This is further augmented by the planes of atmosphere that press into and against the building. Color is the only factor that indicates different representational forms: the white of the church stands in stark contrast to the more muted colors of the sky and earth.
The Weisman purchased Drobsdorf I from the artist in 1939. Upon his return to the United States in 1936, Feininger faced criticism from American compatriots who thought of him solely as a German artist. It was only after his work began to be exhibited by major American galleries and museums in the late 1930's that it became recognized and appreciated as that of an American artist.
Working with visitors of all ages, and volunteer gallery guides we here in the Weisman education department (Judi and Jamee) wanted space to share some of the great questions, ideas and experiences that go down as people dig into our exhibitions. Kicking this off during the exhibition "Stories from the Somali Diaspora"--the powerful photographs by Abdi Roble seems like a perfect plan. So here are some thoughts from Judi.
Rooted in Abdi Roble's visual images that document this forced migration, I've heard some important, sincere and sometimes hard conversations take place in our galleries. Why did these families leave Somalia? Why Minnesota? What's with the Hijab? Where or what or when is "home"?
Abdi's photos are powerful and visitors have been moved by stories of violence, survival, strength and humanity. Being so close to a large portion of the Somali community in Minneapolis--our West Bank neighbors--I've been made more aware of my own cultural assumptions and unexamined fears as I met more Somalis, particularly young Somali women. It has offered a sort of education programming gut check--what is our relationship beyond campus to our diverse surrounding communities? We talk access and engagement, but do we really do it? Can we do better? We are so fortunate photographer Abdi Roble brought not only his artwork, but his enthusiasm and compassion to town, offering a foundation we have all built on.
One of the collaborative ideas that emerged was to create an ongoing, weekly art club with young kids from The Brian Coyle Community Center's summer program.
Working with Coyle Arts Coordinator Angel Peluso, each Tuesday this summer, a group of kids came over from the west bank to the museum to look into art ideas and create some work in response. We've had the help of teen artist Kendall Ray to get this rolling, and hope to grow with other neighboring community and arts organizations.
The Brian Coyle Center Art Club kids have been exploring identity, materials, architecture and visual storytelling.
We're having a blast getting to know these young artists and to share ideas with their dedicated teachers and organizers. For our last summer session we went over to Brian Coyle and helped kids make shaped hats to wear in a final celebration parade planned with Bedlam Theater. The hats...well...they got a bit tall.
Thanks to Angel for her enthusiasm and here's to our continued neighborhood collaborations!
Crews from the Weisman and the Minneapolis Institute of Arts (MIA) installed Robert Rauschenberg's Currents at the Weisman. Currents, a 54-foot screenprint that is part of the MIA collection, is featured in the Weisman's exhibition Au Courant, which opens June 20.
Thirteen crew members from both museums collaborated on the installation, conditioning the print, installing plexiglass sheets and hoisting the print on four lifts to hang it on the wall.
A genetically-modified petunia is the centerpiece of Eduardo Kac: Natural History of the Enigma, a new exhibition opening April 17 at the Weisman Art Museum. The exhibition runs through June 21, 2009. The public is invited to meet the artist at an opening reception from 6:00 to 7:30 p.m. on Friday, April 17 at the Weisman.
The exhibition is the result of a three-year collaboration between artist Eduardo Kac and University of Minnesota scientist Neil Olszewski. Kac and Olszewski have created and propagated a new life form—a transgenic petunia—by fusing proteins from both a plant and from Kac himself. Kac’s DNA is expressed only in the flower’s red veins. The Weisman exhibition features the transgenic plant and prints based on the seeds produced for the project.
"The result of this molecular manipulation is a bloom that creates the living image of human blood rushing through the veins of a flower," Kac said. "This piece is a reflection on the contiguity of life between different species. It uses the redness of blood and the redness of the plant's veins as a marker of our shared heritage in the wider spectrum of life."
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