Friday, October 1, 2010

More Thinking About Material

Devastating thought, sort of... I may be the only one who shares my aesthetic. I'm grumpy. And a piece fell off the wall when I was taking pictures, which made me grumpier. Still, lately, I keep having this concern about being too singular.

I watched Artprize's Critical Discourse over the Internet tonight. Panelists and an audience discussed the ten pieces selected as finalists. The discussion led me back to evaluating non-art materials in art: the moderator started with a "contextual" bit about a drawing of a cosmetics model in a private collection in Napa Valley (I missed the artist's name), made from cosmetics and kept in a room imbued with the scent of cosmetics. Hits multiple senses hard with non-art material. The cosmetics theoretically at least were used aesthetically, materially and conceptually. The "painting" -- that's what the art looked like in the slide -- did not appeal to me; everything, if anything, about the "painting" seemed to come from its "cosmetics" shtick. I looked up art with cosmetics on Google and came across another "cosmetics" artist (I don't think it was the same as the rendering did not look as the slide shown in the discussion). Bottom line, anything one can think of probably has been used as a material, but does the "art" in which the material is used need the "material," verses plain old paint or clay or wax or metal or glass, etc., or does the art transcend the use of the material.

Fiber is an art material, but can be used in unexpected ways. My favorite top 10 Artprize piece (I hope it wins) -- the simply elegant suspended threaded red disks by the installation artist from Texas (need to look up her name) did transcend material and process -- the piece when viewed did not feel like it was about the "material" per se -- though the narrative of the art suggests the material was conceptually integral. I cannot recall if the threads connected to one another at all, consistently or inconsistently with the narrative. A small question comes to mind, however: Is it possible to make this kind of suspended display in a way that is not aesthetically pleasing? Undoubtedly. [Update: even if it were not, perhaps that is the brilliance of the piece.] Is it easier or harder, assuming intentionality, to make such mono-colored suspensions pleasing than non-pleasing? There's a choice in making it comfortable, inviting, relatively uniform, visually pleasing, etc. rather than ominous or uncomfortable or incongruous or difficult on the eye. It's interesting to note that the artist had planned for viewers to be able to walk through the piece, with the disks closer to floor level, and make a wave -- that would have added non-visual sensation, as well as another visual dimension, to the experience of the piece.

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