I Went To A Grammar School And Now I Can Only Obey
We Are All Going To Die And I'm Getting A Fucking Art Degree
Thursday, 27 February 2014
Martin Creed: What's The Point Of It?, Hayward Gallery
I saw this over two weeks ago, but I've decided to re-visit the notes I made in my book.
General impressions:
- Some of the humour is intriguing and subtle because it is wordless (e.g. his strange self-portrait, the alteration of the standard gallery space through metronome noises and the oddly placed sofa), but other times words actually help to express humour in subtle manner (e.g. the large spinning sign reading "MOTHERS" - it creates the impression of mothers being large, imposing and slightly strange without illustrating that point in an obvious and literal way).
- The atmosphere is made humorous and bizarre; a familiar gallery space is transformed by a repetitive, unsettling metronome noises as mentioned above (this was particularly unsettling for me as while these were deliberately set at different speeds to be more annoying, in the past one metronome has proved to be enough to annoy me to the point where I had to throw it against my bedroom wall), a large spinning sign that prevented people from being able to use the ramp (and despite it being high enough that people several heads taller than me were able to walk under it, it still made me want to duck), neon lights, and pieces that altered the wall's surface.
- Sometimes words are not directly included in the piece, but the title is important (e.g. "A Large Piece of Furniture Partially Obstructing a Door"). Titles can be a good way of incorporating text that feels relevant or useful without falling into the trap of using text within the piece when it feels necessary but in practice looks out of place or distracting.
- Some work (e.g. "A Sheet of Paper Crumpled Into a Ball") seems to be a parody of the art world, and fits with the "Emperor's New Clothes" idea I was writing about earlier. I had an art teacher in school who said that he worked in the Tate Britain a few years ago, and enjoyed preying on visitors viewing "The Lights Going On and Off." He said that a lot of people didn't know what they were looking at, so he'd crumple up a piece of paper and throw it in the middle of the room, and after a while people would gather to look at it, which was his cue to walk in, apologise for littering (or something) and take the paper away. He'd laugh at them for being pretentious and not being able to tell litter from "art," but isn't this what we do when studying art? We take a leap of faith and we examine and try to analyse work, whether we think it looks like thoughtless, accidental trash or not. Plus not all of Martin Creed's work is on a plinth - are they really idiots for thinking that "A Sheet of Paper Crumpled Into a Ball" and "The Lights Going On and Off" were being combined? Were they supposed to be able to say, "Hey, that's most definitely a different sheet of paper crumpled into a ball! This is a strange, unfamiliar sheet of paper crumpled into a ball!"? Isn't it more pretentious to expect that? But then again, maybe we should be questioning the leap of faith we take.
- Some pieces use bodily functions in a way that can be slightly difficult to watch. This made me wonder if crudeness was deliberately being used for humour and to rebel against the serious nature of some art, or if the work was questioning our disgust for natural bodily functions. Maybe it was not the latter, but I was reminded of Patricia Piccinini, whose abstract forms which use realistic hair and skin textures can really make you notice the disgust that can be triggered by the natural human body.
- Work such as "As Many 2.5cm Squares as are Necessary Cut From 2.5cm Elastoplast Tape and Piled Up, Adhesive Sides Down, to Form a 2.5cm Cubic Stack" seems to acknowledge futility and does not aim to represent much other than what it literally, physically is. This was interesting to me, as I have made and am currently making some work which is about futility, and I am questioning the goal of creating or conveying deeper meaning through art (putting it that way makes me think of Frank Stella, whose work I very much dislike, but probably simply because I find rooms filled with his work to feel draining and dull).
- I thought that the sign on one of the works which read, "Please keep your distance from this artwork at all times," would make a good piece.
- I found it refreshing that a lot of emphasis seemed to be on happiness, humour and breaking down the serious and cold gallery atmosphere.
General impressions:
- Some of the humour is intriguing and subtle because it is wordless (e.g. his strange self-portrait, the alteration of the standard gallery space through metronome noises and the oddly placed sofa), but other times words actually help to express humour in subtle manner (e.g. the large spinning sign reading "MOTHERS" - it creates the impression of mothers being large, imposing and slightly strange without illustrating that point in an obvious and literal way).
- The atmosphere is made humorous and bizarre; a familiar gallery space is transformed by a repetitive, unsettling metronome noises as mentioned above (this was particularly unsettling for me as while these were deliberately set at different speeds to be more annoying, in the past one metronome has proved to be enough to annoy me to the point where I had to throw it against my bedroom wall), a large spinning sign that prevented people from being able to use the ramp (and despite it being high enough that people several heads taller than me were able to walk under it, it still made me want to duck), neon lights, and pieces that altered the wall's surface.
- Sometimes words are not directly included in the piece, but the title is important (e.g. "A Large Piece of Furniture Partially Obstructing a Door"). Titles can be a good way of incorporating text that feels relevant or useful without falling into the trap of using text within the piece when it feels necessary but in practice looks out of place or distracting.
- Some work (e.g. "A Sheet of Paper Crumpled Into a Ball") seems to be a parody of the art world, and fits with the "Emperor's New Clothes" idea I was writing about earlier. I had an art teacher in school who said that he worked in the Tate Britain a few years ago, and enjoyed preying on visitors viewing "The Lights Going On and Off." He said that a lot of people didn't know what they were looking at, so he'd crumple up a piece of paper and throw it in the middle of the room, and after a while people would gather to look at it, which was his cue to walk in, apologise for littering (or something) and take the paper away. He'd laugh at them for being pretentious and not being able to tell litter from "art," but isn't this what we do when studying art? We take a leap of faith and we examine and try to analyse work, whether we think it looks like thoughtless, accidental trash or not. Plus not all of Martin Creed's work is on a plinth - are they really idiots for thinking that "A Sheet of Paper Crumpled Into a Ball" and "The Lights Going On and Off" were being combined? Were they supposed to be able to say, "Hey, that's most definitely a different sheet of paper crumpled into a ball! This is a strange, unfamiliar sheet of paper crumpled into a ball!"? Isn't it more pretentious to expect that? But then again, maybe we should be questioning the leap of faith we take.
- Some pieces use bodily functions in a way that can be slightly difficult to watch. This made me wonder if crudeness was deliberately being used for humour and to rebel against the serious nature of some art, or if the work was questioning our disgust for natural bodily functions. Maybe it was not the latter, but I was reminded of Patricia Piccinini, whose abstract forms which use realistic hair and skin textures can really make you notice the disgust that can be triggered by the natural human body.
- Work such as "As Many 2.5cm Squares as are Necessary Cut From 2.5cm Elastoplast Tape and Piled Up, Adhesive Sides Down, to Form a 2.5cm Cubic Stack" seems to acknowledge futility and does not aim to represent much other than what it literally, physically is. This was interesting to me, as I have made and am currently making some work which is about futility, and I am questioning the goal of creating or conveying deeper meaning through art (putting it that way makes me think of Frank Stella, whose work I very much dislike, but probably simply because I find rooms filled with his work to feel draining and dull).
- I thought that the sign on one of the works which read, "Please keep your distance from this artwork at all times," would make a good piece.
- I found it refreshing that a lot of emphasis seemed to be on happiness, humour and breaking down the serious and cold gallery atmosphere.
Neuroses, Anxiety, Rituals, Collecting
Some of my work deals with rituals such as collecting, or bad habits, lack of motivation, and other things that can be linked to neuroses. I had an essay tutorial today, where the idea of collecting was brought up as a possible dissertation topic. I think the idea of rituals in general would be a great thing for me to write about, especially as things said about my essays were that they were detached and lacked passion (which I can agree with), and research into rituals is something I already really enjoy. I am interested in the way that rituals linked to religion, superstition or the supernatural mirror rituals that seem really practical at first. An example of this is when I repeatedly check my calendar, email and 'To Do' list in loops. Once is necessary; twice is cautious. Then it loops until I'm essentially just repeating the words, "calendar, email, 'To Do' list, calendar, email, 'To Do' list" in my head, like a mantra. At that point it resembles superstition. It's no longer a practical thing to do; it's a prayer to ward off mistakes and a ritual to remove fear.
Cognitive Behavioural Therapy provides practical ways of looking at this sort of thing, but I think Freud could be interesting too. From what I remember, his widely discredited theory is that we are affected by the Oedipus Complex (in the case of males, anyway - I have not yet read about the Elektra Complex that is supposed to be the version that affects females, and thus do not know if it's an exact reversal of the Oedipus Complex or slightly different... I think "penis envy" is a part of it), and our guilt from the desire to kill our fathers turns into neurosis, and religion provides a way to repent, religious rituals becoming a way to relieve guilt. I find Freud interesting as a lot of what he says is so ridiculous, but other parts seem to somehow fit. I definitely see religion and prayer as a therapeutic ritual. I am an atheist, but when I considered myself agnostic I still prayed every night. I think I also prayed every time I left the house, unless I was really relaxed (which is something I see as a sign that it was an anxiety-relieving ritual). I did not especially feel like there was a deity listening, but it relieved the anxiety caused by uncertainty. Prayer seems to sort the problems that are within our control from the problems that are without our control, in my case anyway. If I would pray to do well in an exam, as I was doing so I would remember that it was actually up to me to put the work in. If I would pray for my whole family and all my friends to be kept safe from every bad thing ever, I would remember that it was beyond my control (or "up to God," as one may say), and therefore there was no point worrying. This mirrors an idea taught in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy: if you are stressed about something, either you can do something about it or you cannot. If you can do something about it, do it now. If you can't do it now, plan it. If you can't do anything about it, focus your attention on something else.
So, things to read:
Sigmund Freud's "Civilization and its Discontents,"
Mike Kelley's "Foul Perfection,"
and lastly (for now), my numerous Cognitive Behavioural Therapy books.
Cognitive Behavioural Therapy provides practical ways of looking at this sort of thing, but I think Freud could be interesting too. From what I remember, his widely discredited theory is that we are affected by the Oedipus Complex (in the case of males, anyway - I have not yet read about the Elektra Complex that is supposed to be the version that affects females, and thus do not know if it's an exact reversal of the Oedipus Complex or slightly different... I think "penis envy" is a part of it), and our guilt from the desire to kill our fathers turns into neurosis, and religion provides a way to repent, religious rituals becoming a way to relieve guilt. I find Freud interesting as a lot of what he says is so ridiculous, but other parts seem to somehow fit. I definitely see religion and prayer as a therapeutic ritual. I am an atheist, but when I considered myself agnostic I still prayed every night. I think I also prayed every time I left the house, unless I was really relaxed (which is something I see as a sign that it was an anxiety-relieving ritual). I did not especially feel like there was a deity listening, but it relieved the anxiety caused by uncertainty. Prayer seems to sort the problems that are within our control from the problems that are without our control, in my case anyway. If I would pray to do well in an exam, as I was doing so I would remember that it was actually up to me to put the work in. If I would pray for my whole family and all my friends to be kept safe from every bad thing ever, I would remember that it was beyond my control (or "up to God," as one may say), and therefore there was no point worrying. This mirrors an idea taught in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy: if you are stressed about something, either you can do something about it or you cannot. If you can do something about it, do it now. If you can't do it now, plan it. If you can't do anything about it, focus your attention on something else.
So, things to read:
Sigmund Freud's "Civilization and its Discontents,"
Mike Kelley's "Foul Perfection,"
and lastly (for now), my numerous Cognitive Behavioural Therapy books.
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
"Propaganda" (Or Not), Repetition
Linking to what I was writing about a lot of advice being forced upon us and repeated (we can choose which to pay more attention to and which to actually implement, but we have a lot less control over how frequently we have to hear or see certain things), I was thinking about making the "correct squatting position for urinating on the ground" into an easily repeatable symbol and doing something with that. I like the idea that instead of responding seriously to the idea of repetitive advice being thrown at us constantly, becoming unnecessarily distressed about the implications and exaggerating the negative aspects, it is possible to realise that most of the advice is either basically sound or harmless (I say this because the idea came from things such as the government's recommendations for what to eat, TFL's idea of correct tube behaviour, and other things which are at worst just repetitive, patronising and/or slightly incorrect, rather than horribly damaging), and it is more fun to respond with a parody. It can be important to be able to react to things with playfulness.
-
Relevant things:
PROPAGANDA, REPETITION: John Carpenter's "They Live" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inZUDMGJsKo
CHEERINESS: Martin Creed - http://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/whatson/martin-creed-79080
-
Relevant things:
PROPAGANDA, REPETITION: John Carpenter's "They Live" - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inZUDMGJsKo
CHEERINESS: Martin Creed - http://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/whatson/martin-creed-79080
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
Notes: Roland Barthes - Introduction To The Structural Analysis Of Narratives
forms of narrative - different genres, oral/written/visual/gestural, still/moving
history or fiction
distinguishing between forms
idea of narrative as universal
describe and classify narratives
history or fiction
distinguishing between forms
idea of narrative as universal
describe and classify narratives
C3 Exhibition
Before the first collaborative exhibition I took part in last year, I was really apprehensive about working with people I had never worked with before. Working together often requires compromise, which can feel like a removal of the autonomy one is used to when creating work. Art is subjective and personal, making it likely that someone at some point will see something of yours as being "wrong," and it can feel equally "wrong" for you to "correct" it based on their view. However, while I had never worked with these people before and while I had no idea how they thought or worked, I found that since I trusted them to be intelligent, insightful and creative, taking leaps of faith became easy and compromise was not a problem. I was happy to create something entirely collaborative and find out where putting our ideas together would take us.
I signed up to this workshop perfectly happy to do the same thing: pool ideas and temporarily forget individuality. However, there was a group who felt strongly about balancing collaboration and individuality. Having changed my views on the importance of individuality within a group exhibition, I was curious to see if my views could be changed back, and I joined them.
We acknowledged the fact that the group was not formed organically; it was formed as a result of the instruction to get into groups and create an exhibition, rather than a desire to collaborate with a certain set of people based on knowing them and knowing about their work. This felt honest; acknowledging the "flaw" made it no longer a "flaw," and it became an interesting quirk to work with and to inform and inspire our work.
Having put together the exhibition (using fresh work) in a relatively short space of time is something that I feel naturally made it self-referential in a way. When you have limited discussion time, it seems normal for most of the talking to be about the fact that you are having an exhibition, and so the exhibition starts to be about itself. This was a collaborative exhibition about collaboration. This is something else that I feel was honest about it - we did not force a specific theme.
Overall, I'm glad I took part in this. I worked with insightful, interesting and dynamic people, and had an experience embracing individuality within a collaboration.
Friday, 7 February 2014
"If Nancy Was An Ashtray," Joe Brainard
I like the bizarre, nonsensical humour in this. I feel that the strangeness contrasts nicely with the fact the humour is actually fairly subtle; there isn't exactly a punchline, and there is no obvious attempt to make the image or text extremely comical.
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
Prescriptive Manifestos - Life Advice: Who Decides Which Parts Are Most Important?
"Alternating flavours of instant noodles does not count as varying your diet."
"These are the most practical positions in which to urinate on the ground."
Thinking about manifestos made me wonder how much advice and how many "rules" we unnecessarily follow and prioritise. It may be inaccurate to claim that we follow advice blindly or that we cannot judge for ourselves which rules and pieces of advice are sensible and practical and which are not, we may be heavily influenced by tradition and other people when it comes to deciding which pieces of information to prioritise. Other people decide which rules we see everywhere and influence what is repeated to us and what sticks in our heads. There is much that is useful and practical that we hear much less. There are also things which we hear less because they are less useful, but again that is someone else guessing what will or should be most relevant to our lives; they could be wrong.
"These are the most practical positions in which to urinate on the ground."
Thinking about manifestos made me wonder how much advice and how many "rules" we unnecessarily follow and prioritise. It may be inaccurate to claim that we follow advice blindly or that we cannot judge for ourselves which rules and pieces of advice are sensible and practical and which are not, we may be heavily influenced by tradition and other people when it comes to deciding which pieces of information to prioritise. Other people decide which rules we see everywhere and influence what is repeated to us and what sticks in our heads. There is much that is useful and practical that we hear much less. There are also things which we hear less because they are less useful, but again that is someone else guessing what will or should be most relevant to our lives; they could be wrong.
"You must take clear and well-lit photos of your artwork, with a proper camera."
"Cooperation, Collaboration, Collectivity" Workshop: My Group's Manifesto
(We are each writing our own version of the manifesto for the purpose of emphasising the idea of the individual.)
Collaboration breeds new ideas, but can be stifling. It is difficult for multiple people to try to speak with the same voice while still retaining what is important to them.
We are not prioritising agreement.
We are acknowledging and accepting that we cannot ever fully understand the language of someone else. To assume that we have fully understood someone is to disregard or ignore any part of their message that we did not take in. We will not unintentionally stifle something by assuming we fully understand it; we will acknowledge the potential for loss in translation.
We value autonomy.
We value the ability to communicate in our own languages.
Collaboration breeds new ideas, but can be stifling. It is difficult for multiple people to try to speak with the same voice while still retaining what is important to them.
We are not prioritising agreement.
We are acknowledging and accepting that we cannot ever fully understand the language of someone else. To assume that we have fully understood someone is to disregard or ignore any part of their message that we did not take in. We will not unintentionally stifle something by assuming we fully understand it; we will acknowledge the potential for loss in translation.
We value autonomy.
We value the ability to communicate in our own languages.
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