Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Sydney's References for Marco Polo Syndrome Post
I entered this week's reading with very little understanding of post-colonialism, and even less of how it applied to art. I found Gerado Mosquera's article to be most helpful, especially in discussion about the role of contemporary foreign art: "Postmodern interest in the Other has opened some space in the "high art" circuits for vernacular and non-Western cultures."(Kocur 220). I was curious to see what sort of art was being produced to cater to this interest in foreign art. The reading mentioned the Cuban artist Jose Bedia, who is described as "...making Western culture from non-Western sources..."(Kocur 221), which I find to be an impressive feat.
Bedia's art does indeed seem to live up the description above, incorporating modern, Western abstraction and painterly styles with themes lifted from what seems to be folklore and myth from non-Western history. His work can also be seen as exploring non-Western views of the Western world (Kocur 221). This can be seen in his looming, dark paintings of American aircraft carriers, explained in an article in Art Forum: "The carrier's oddly surreal form puts one in mind of American military power at its most relentless."(http://www.georgeadamsgallery.com/artworks/Jose_Bedia/pdf/229_art.pdf) Other than that, I read a number of articles and websites, looking for information that could help clarify the direction behind his other paintings, but found not much more than tepid descriptions of the paintings themselves. Perhaps someone found something else I overlooked? Either way, I think Bedia's work is strong example of post-colonialism as a theme in contemporary art.
Kocur, Zoya, and Simon Leung. "Theories in Contemporary Art since 1985". Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005. p 218-225.
George Adams Gallery, "Jose Bedia". http://www.georgeadamsgallery.com/artworks/Jose_Bedia/pdf/229_art.pdf.
image:
http://images.artnet.com/artwork_images/19/1780.jpg
The Marco Polo Syndrome
However I do believe that too much western influence may not be good for other countries because "It is said that a village may be ignorant of what happens in the neighbouring village, but knows what happens in New York" ( Kocur and Leong p. 222). There has to be a happy medium with colonisation. Artists of that particular country should be influenced to a certain extent but not to the point where they don't care about their own heritage and the people and influences around them already.
Descartes Was Wrong
This implies that the artistic effects or imagery appropriated for western art are not the culture's own--in essence, by creating the 'oriental Other', those "foils and negotiations of the Occident" (Oguibe 231), we have also created their imagery. We approach their works with preconceived notions of style, tradition, and meaning, and take away from them the same things we already believed to exist in them: thus we have African art typecast in the tribal mask or fetish statue, symbols of the dark and mysterious jungle. We then employ these appropriated stereotypes in our own work, using meaning for their artistic lexicon that subverts their own understanding. We 'create' their art and then appropriate it.
When interpreting dreams, it is said that other figures who appear are merely representations of certain aspects or characteristics of the self, fragmented from one's mind and reflected back by those who we subconsciously tie to those specific traits. Can this be used to explain the creation of Post-colonial identity and subsequent appropriation? It seems almost as if in taking the imagery of others that have already been deemed 'inferior' or 'primitive', Western civilizations hope to reclaim their own bygone days of the primitive, of the mystical. This would make sense, as the primitive and mystical--in the sense that the West perceives them--do not exist in the civilizations they are taken from. They are merely figments of the imagination.
Combating ignorance will be the only way to correct our 'history', and both Oguibe and Mosquera provide avenues to do so: First, artistic identity and historic and "discursive territory" must be left "to those who have the privileged knowledge and understanding of their societies to formulate and own discourse" (Oguibe 232), or, international identity is the sole property of the country in question to create, and no one else's. No one will speak for the country but itself. Secondly, evaluation of intercultural artwork "is not just a question of seeing, but also of listening" (Mosquera 223). What is the context of the piece? What functions does this piece fill, and how does it accomplish them? What are the values portrayed, what perspectives does it open, etc. Mosquera is correct in realizing that in order to understand a piece, you must understand a culture--but it is here that we run into another problem. Mosquera believes that even an "incorrect" reading of an artwork is useful as it still generates new meanings (Mosquera 222). But these incorrect readings are made in ignorance--not willful ignorance, or ignorance born of superiority, but the ignorance that comes when you belong to a culture that has equipped you with the faculties needed to navigate that specific culture. Ethnocentrism may suggest the villager who believes "the whole world is his village" (Mosquera 219), but if his eyes are opened to the foreign, he will still try to apply his village to the world.
This is not to say that the villager is wrong. He is simply unable to fully comprehend another culture because there is no true way to break the boundaries of his own, to escape his culture and start anew. However, in this day and age of the hybrid, his work may be done for him. It may be easier to approach and appropriate another's culture in order to enrich your own if they have already done the same with your culture. But we must realize that a full, complete understanding of foreign artwork is impossible if we try to read it in its original context: we do not have their history, their customs, their artistic traditions or their mindset. This does create challenges in creating meaning that bridges countries, and pulls us further from the Western's beloved 'universal'. Hopefully, these challenges are ones that artists--and people--the world over are willing to face.
Mosquera, Gerardo. "The Marco Polo Syndrome: Some Problems around Art and Eurocentrism". Theory in Contemporary Art. p. 120. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005: pp 218-225.
Oguibe, Olu. "In the 'Heart of Darkness'". Theory in Contemporary Art. p. 120. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005: pp 226-232.
FREE YOUR MIND
Kocur, Zoya and Leung, Simon. Theory in Contemporary Art
since 1985. Madden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005. pp 218,219
Displacing the Center
The effects of postcolonialism touch on every sphere of human activity, and it manipulates the scope of each individual in its path. What Gerardo Mosquera attributes as the "Marco Polo Syndrome" is only half correct, in that it leaves out the devastating power trip with which "Marco" must struggle. There are the privileged few that, because of accessibility and availability, have the resources to define direction for the rest. We are x and you are y. We have completed equations 4, 5, and 6, and you are still at step 1. We have a and you do not have a. This creation of imbalance has implications morally, culturally, and personally. Who are we to prescribe our disposition to the Other based on this tertium quid? Mosquera gets it right when he says that postcolonialism creates a "monocultural trap in which we have all found ourselves prisoners" (Kocur and Leung 219). What lies in this difference that validates either side unless "=" is factored in?
What is the solution? Olu Oguibe displays a remarkedly simple yet pronounced answer that retains integrity for every side. She says that "our discourse...should begin to move in the direction of dismissing, at least in discursive terms, the concept of a centre, not by moving it...but in superseding it" (Kocur and Leung 227). Take the following example. Representing Oguibe's group of "excluded" South Africans, Die Antwoord are a hiphop group that, thanks to the internet, seem to have come out of thin air (Kocur and Leung 229). Switching between English and the South African dialect "zef", they confront what it means to live in today's intimately connected global society. This does not only include the problem of communication. While being visually effective, their image also functions as a springboard into discussion: Are they serious? Or are they parodying the American obsession with the ridiculous? They describe themselves as "the love-child of many diverse cultures, black, white, coloured and alien, all pumped into one wild and crazy journey down the crooked path to enlightenment" (about, www.dieantwoord.com). It seems probable that they are on the right path.
References:
Die Antwoord. 24 Feb. 2010. http://dieantwoord.com/
Kocur, Zoya, and Simon Leung. Theory in Contemporary Art since 1985.
Whats art?
Because of the lack of understanding in the traditional art world, "black and non European artists have had to acquiesce to promotion through the commodified signs of ethnicity, which renders them complicit to western desire" (Kocur and Leung 235). This label limits the voice of ethnic artists and reduces their expression as mere storytelling. Its degrading and diminishes the authentic expression of the piece to something trivial and unvalued by traditional standards.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Postcolonialism

The picture at the top is titled "Paris #3 (Ulysse)" (2009) and I feel as though this picture can sum up Claxton's entire feelings on colonialism and how it is still present in today's society. Look at the juxtaposition of the "Aboriginal" looking mannequin heads and magzine that says "cowboys and Indians". These odd juxtapositions can be seen throughout many of her works and
"Claxton has often employed visual symbols and metaphor in her work to focus on colonialist double standards and destruction of Frist Peoples, customs and enviroment. Her production in film and video establishes her as an important voice in contemporary media production. Her video, film and installation works have largely over-shadowed Claxton's work in performance art but it is a medium she has returned to again and again" (Alteen)
She is trying to voice to us the Colonialism that is still taking place today and how westerners still think of Aboriginals as the "Other". The West has ostensibbly labeled their art as inferior, but how can we appreciate a work of art if we are putting it in our on contexts and disregarding that fact that it has its own history? She produces artworks that try to "deconstruct the ways in which images, philosophies and iconographies of First Nations are formed and commodified, both historically and in contemporary mainstream" (Winsor Gallery).
References:
"Dana Claxton". Winsor Gallery. February 23, 2010.http://www.winsorgallery.com/artists.php?artwork=claxton_3.
Kocur, Zoya, and Simon Leung. "Theories in Contemporary Art since 1985". Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005. p 233-234.
Alteen, Glenn. "Dana Claxton: Artist Bio and CV". February 23, 2010. http://www.danaclaxton.com/retrospective.html
The Solution?
Although Masquera does pose a solution for the “de-Eurocentralisation” of art he does seem to push non-western artists right back into another corner where they have to reject western expectations for non-western art (“authenticity, purity and tradition”) and embrace “decentralization, and a move toward adopting artistic strategies of recontextualization, appropriation and recycling”(215). Replacing one set of guidelines for another hardly seems like a solution to this problem. Perhaps the West’s perception of art is what ultimately has to change.
The invasion of western culture.
"Extreme relativism constitutes another danger. It is said that a village may be ignorant of what happens in a neighboring village, but knows what happens in New York (222). Western Culture has permeated so strongly into other cultures that it is more common for a Third World village to see what is occuring in America than in their neighboring village. That makes me think that the art that is coming out of these places can not be completely true to that culture. Colonialsm has made an impact so strong that it now affects our art.
The Syncretic Turn
As an art student, I struggle with the duplicity of painting my own style, from my own experiences, while also making a piece that is sensational for a viewer and won't make me feel too vulnerable. I have painted as self therapy, re-hashing past experiences in painted imagery. But I was always careful to share those pieces with only selective viewers. I was pleased to discover, however, that often an outside viewer was unable to decipher the symbolism in the paintings, and that gave me a sense of security in the disclosure. My personal symbolisms and contexts are specific to my own real or imagined experiences, and have continuously evolved over my lifetime through the instability of language and dreams, as the syncretism approach suggests. I do not think art is losing integrity through appropriation, recycling, and ultimately syncretism, but rather new art forms are being created.
Jean Fisher, "The Syncretic Turn: Cross-Cultural Practices in the Age of Multiculturalism" (Kocur and Leung, 233-241)
Tamiko Thiel's 2006 virtual reality installation entitled The Travels of Mariko Horo follows a young Japanese traveler into the "Mythic West" in a reversal of the traditional objectifying occidental gaze. According to Mariko and her "centre", the Other lies to the West. Africa both Sub-Saharan and Arab, Europe, America, and China are one vast Otherness. Surely in the first discourses that she encounters she will only be able to see these cultures through the perception granted her by her own "centre". And yet, she will become able to perceive these discourses in this manner as she travels further and further beyond her own self, placing her own centre beside the countless Others in the world. I think that what the Marco Polo Syndrome describes is the inability to recognize this duality of discourse.
Surely, on an international stage some degree of ethnocentrism is necessary to define one's own centre and limitations when understanding Otherness. The problem arises when, as was previously cited from Ernie Diaz's "China Expat" site, one begins shouting in one's own native language with the belief that a higher decibel alone might facilitate understanding. (“Marco Polo Syndrome”, par. 5) It's a problem of too much attachment to the centre and too little engagement with the Other. Were Mariko to consider herself too much as the magnifying glass, disregarding the necessary modesty when engaging Otherness and ignoring her own relative handicap in understanding the Other (Oguibe, 8), she would fall into the same trap as her Western namesake and find herself accomplishing little more than a reflection of her own culture superimposed upon what she may find to be exciting or exotic locales.
The so-called "modern", largely European centre constantly demands that the Rest prove itself, more often than not through a kind of self-exploitation by Otherness juxtaposed with Europeness.* To some extent, the same can be said for every human culture. Mariko's own cultural history abounds with the kind of lump-sum Otherness that Oguibe describes when discussing "Sub-Saharan Africa"("In the 'Heart of Darkness'", Section IV): for example, classical Japanese artists' depictions of Holland in the same likeness as China. Fantasies such as these were exacerbated in Mariko's cultural past by closed borders, whereby only very little information from the Rest passed in or out. (Thiel, par.6)
The problem continues today in all corners of the globe. The same fantastic representation of the Other as seen through the half-silvered mirror can be found in Western art such as that of American artist iona rozeal brown, who seems to mistake the ganguro culture as being a derivative of African-American hip hop culture, ignoring the movement's own native origins in manba/yamanba**. She focuses instead on her own culture, beliveing to have "experienced" the movement and it's surrounding culture through puppet theatre performances in Washington DC and a two-month visit to Tokyo. It seems to me that brown is the definition of misappropriation and the self-believing magnifying glass that sees merely a reflection of it's own culture on an indistinct background. Surely, to be successful in their ventures both brown and Mariko alike must open their borders and continue to push beyond themselves to eventually break free of their own isolating traditions^.
Thiel, Tamiko. "The Travels of Mariko Horo". 02/23/2010 <http://www.mission-base.com/tamiko/mariko-horo/>.
Oguibe, Olu. "In the 'Heart of Darkness'". Theory in Contemporary Art. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.
Diaz, Ernie. "China Expat". China Expat. 02/23/2010 <http://www.chinaexpat.com/blog/ernie /2007/12/14/marco-polo-syndrome.html>.
*For instance, see Gerardo Mosquera, "The Marco Polo Syndrome: Some Problems around Art and Eurocentrism". Theory in Contemporary Art. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.
**I regret being unable to find a more credible source than Wikipedia (which focuses on the derivative gyaru style) in English or in translation. For the Wikipedia definition of ganguro gyaru fashion: here. For information on the yamaube and the disenfranchised Other: here. For a cheeky BBC documentary/interview that attributes ganguro to California "Baywatch" culture: here. (Where do you think ganguro comes from? ^^ I think it's very difficult to quantify in one paragraph, much less something as ethnic- and geo-specific as "African-American hip hop"!)
^Mosquera, Gerardo. "The Marco Polo Syndrome: Some Problems around Art and Eurocentrism". Theory in Contemporary Art. p. 120. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.
The "Other"
So, there will always be ideas about the "Other." However, we can try to move past seeing what is outside of our own cultures as something to be feared, and begin to appreciate otherness as a positive and beautiful thing. Gerardo Mosquera writes about "The Marco Polo Syndrome," "What is monstrous about this syndrome is that it perceives whatever is different as the carrier of life-threatening viruses rather than nutritional elements" (Kocur and Leung 218). Though there are still problems, the world has changed greatly since the time when Eurocentrism began its development. If we can see differences for what they actually are rather than flaws or fears, we can learn much and benefit from them.
The Marco Polo Syndrome is a problem within culture. It can be characterized as problems of intercultural communication in art theory, which is a part of today's reality. Traditionally art has been based on aesthetics yet it is also a product of influence in one way or another. Different cultures should be embraced and learned about rather than ignored or disregarded. Gerardo Mosquera states "Instead, what should be done is to make traditions work within the new epoch. The problem is not preserving them but vigorously adapting them" (Locur and Leung, 221). The main problem of this syndrome is communication. I thought it was interesting to read about how Latin American artwork is valued more if it satisfies certain expectations. Mosquera comments "Third World artists are constantly asked to display their identity, to look like no one else or to look like Frida" (Locur and Leung, 221). This is an example of artists conforming to what is "normal" and developing their work based upon that aesthetic.
I believe the Marco Polo Syndrome can be seen throughout the world in many ways today. For instance, while traveling through Europe two years ago my friends and I were constantly labeled as "ignorant Americans". Once people got to know us that stereotype was washed away but at first this how we were perceived. I decided to do further research on this topic. I came across a website titled "Eye Of Modok". This website listed the many different symptoms of MPS. For example: standing in the middle of bustling Chinese commercial centers and shaking one's head in wonderment at the inevitable McDonald's and KFC's.
Through reading this article I was able to put a word to actions I have witnessed throughout my life especially while traveling. The Marco Polo Syndrome has most definitely brought death to culture and it is my hope that one day no such syndrome will exist; or one day people will become more aware of it and change their attitudes.
Marco Polo Syndrome in Art and Society
When people think of cultures other than their own, they typically stereotype. They tend to generalize and automatically think of cliché words such as “tradition”. For example, thinking that African art should only be created within the context of “tradition” and believing that contemporary concepts have no place in “traditional” art. People of the Western world have a hard time escaping these stereotypes, especially when it comes to art. Gerardo Mosquera states, “Third World artists are constantly asked to display their identity, to be fantastic, to look like no one else or to look like Frida…” (Kocur, Leung 221). I agree with this statement because it seems that people can be accepting of “the other’s” work to a certain extent. That is if it fits into their perceived image of what the art should look like based on their prior knowledge of the artworks cultural category. However if the work is too different from their expectations, they will reject it.
Just as much as the Marco Polo Syndrome relates to art, it also relates to American society in general. From a sociological standpoint, people base their beliefs and attitudes on their social or cultural norms. Anything that is outside or different from those norms is considered “taboo”. People are quick to make judgments based on what they know as “normal”. The “others” or people of another culture, then have to make the decision whether or not to adapt to the “norms” of society in which they live, or to expressively enhance their cultural background and be “different”. Mosquera states, “Ethnocentrism always suggests the naïve vanity of a villager who, as Jose Marti said, assumes that ‘the whole world is his village’, believing everything originated there even if it were imposed on him through conquest” (Kocur, Leung 219). Although it is improving, I feel that as Americans, we can be so sheltered in our perspective of other cultures, thinking that our way of life is the only way.
When doing further research on the Marco Polo Syndrome, I found a website called, “China Expat”, which discussed the Marco Polo Syndrome in relation to the way Americans handle their unknown environment, specifically China. The author, Ernie Diaz, listed several of the “symptoms” of Marco Polo Syndrome. My favorite symptom, due to its complete accuracy, was “Communicative Aphasia, manifested by shouting English in the mistaken belief that increased volume can bridge the language gap” (Diaz, “Marco Polo Syndrome”). Although this website did not relate to art, I think this “symptom” can be connected to Mosquero’s viewpoint. Mosquero says, “we should realize that the way towards an intercultural evaluation of the work of art is not just a question of seeing, but also of listening” (Kocur, Leung 223). These two quotes can be compared in that they both are trying to say that we should take a step back and instead of screaming or just simply looking, we should listen to what the “other” is trying to say, literally and/or abstractly. It is possible that if we were to take that advice we could increase the possibility of our world being a little less “ethnocentric”.
Kocur, Zoya, and Simon Leung. Theory in Contemporary Art since 1985. Malden:
Blackwell Publishing, 2005. Print.
“Marco Polo Syndrome.” Chinaexpat.com China Expat, n.d. Web. 22 Feb. 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Marco Polo Syndrome
Thursday, February 18, 2010
I decided to further explore this particular exhibition. "Untitled" consisted of 1,200 pounds of silver-wrapped hard candy arranged to resemble a carpet on the floor of the museum. Viewers were invited to participate in the exhibition and take pieces of candy away. This represents the slow diappearance of the sculpture and therefore is symbolizing the slow disappearance of people due to the AIDS epidemic. The work is speicifically about the loss of Gonzalez-Torres's partner. I really like the fact that the artist is inviting viewers to be a part of the work and interpret the meaning of it in whatever way they like.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
When first reading about Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s “Untitled” (Placebo) piece, I was assuming and was led to believe that it was dealing strictly with the AIDS crisis. Later in the reading Storr brings up the relation between the candy and sexuality, however still relating to AIDS. It seems that Gonzalez Torres’s focus was directly on AIDS, however as Storr mentions, “his art is not solely or even primarily dedicated to the AIDS epidemic” (Storr, 9). Instead his piece was also making a statement about time and mortality. The installation piece would not be reconstructed until the viewers consumed every piece candy. He did this to symbolize the amount of time and the number of deaths due to AIDS. Storr states he did this to represent that, “it may die again, and again, ad infinitum, thus slowly ceaselessly rehearsing not one death or two, not just Ross’s death or Gonzalez-Torres’s own, but many, many more” (Storr, 9). The way in which Gonzalez-Torres made the viewer interact with his work was set up so that they might see themselves in the piece and not just relate it to the “artist and his lover” (Storr, 9).
The execution of Gonzalez-Torres’s work was brilliant. Instead of creating a piece of art to make a political statement about AIDS targeting the well educated, he set his work up so the average person would interact and be affected by it. The placement of the guard supervising the work was crucial in that they would tell the viewer the purpose behind the work. In relation to having the viewers interact with the artist’s work, there was discussion on where Gonzalez-Torres gained his inspiration. However all the work he was supposedly inspired from came after he had already created his work. Storr quoted Gonzalez-Torres saying, “I always though that there was nothing new under the sun. Except that it is not about being new, but about who makes it better. I like that more” (Storr, 13). This quote reminded me of Sherrie Levine and her attitude towards appropriation. It also makes me wonder if Gonzalez-Torres felt the same way, but to a lesser extreme than Sherrie Levine.
Healing the Cultural Body
In her disturbing but poignant four-part work Reframing the Past, an innocent child is the voice of the piece (Marks 18). Positive imagery is challenged and humanized against parodied texts of the grade school reader Fun With Dick and Jane. The piece reveals molestation between two children and dissolution of trust and family unity. Marks reveres Sligh for the undoing of the "violence" of positive imagery in her works (Marks 18). By confronting her own memories and fears, Sligh gives others the freedom to explore their own painful truths.
But what is wrong with positive imagery? All forms of art imitate life and reveal qualities of humanity in their own way. Is Sligh really healing the viewer or disturbing the viewer? Is she exploiting the viewer by using a child's voice to speak about abuse? Is the shock effect and blatant sexuality of the pieces what captivates the audience? Are we being enriched by the complex realities conveyed?
Marks, Laura U. "Healing the Cultural Body: Clarissa Sligh's Unfinished Business." Center Quarterly, 55 (1992): 18-22.
Healing
Sligh grew up during the civil rights movement. She saw firsthand the struggles blacks had in America. However, she felt discrimination within the civil rights movement and black community because of her gender. There were strong gender roles that were deeply entrenched in the community. Women were not on the front lines of the movement and forced to take part in supportive roles. The African- American community had strong sexual overtones that forced women to remain submissive members of the community. Stokley Carmichael noted the lack of sexual power that women had by stating that "the only position for a women in the movement is prone"(Marks 4). Sligh depicts this by strongly emphasizing masculine features of men and placing them in places of power in her works. She uses this to challenge the established gender roles in the African-American community and to highlight the inequality that runs counterintuitive to the civil rights purpose.
Robertson and McDaniel discuss so many different forms of art with the subject of 'time' that it soon becomes impossible to see anything as outside of it. Some works, like the video artists Peter Fischli and David Weiss, rely on movement and change from action to action to demonstrate fleeting moments. Some, like the sculpture artist Heide Fasnacht, only need to capture a single instance to imply the quick passage of time. It does not seem to matter if the piece moves (whether in the gallery or in the virtual reality of film), or if the piece simply hints at movement, all art seems to be controlled by time's forces.
Yet time is itself a man-made concept employed to organize an otherwise chaotic world. Where, then, did it come from? As depicted in these time pieces, it must be this linking of action, of progressive movement to movement, that necessitates our view of time. For the western world, this means a beginning and an end. On an individual level, time holds much significance in the record change through growth; it seems to be the most effective way for western society to mark change. But on a much larger scale, an interesting thing happens: time and all of its records of change cease to matter. The world and everything in it continues its constant state of growth and decay. The past does not matter, the future will never come. In this way, we can make time unmake itself: there is literally no time like the present.
In this aspect, the Futurists were right. The past had no hold over their art; the only direction they travelled in was forward. They succeeded in creating work that, like the efforts of the cubists, collapsed time upon itself into a single point (Cubist work was arguably more successful in this; if a linear view of time was applied to the work of futurism then it could be said their pieces had a discernable beginning and end).
But this entire analysis depends on the definition of time, if it exists, as the recording of movement to movement. Are there other ways to convey time rather than through progression? Time is inexorably tied with decay and death, two themes that elicit deep-seated emotions in human beings. What if it were to be tied solely to human emotion? Can such a creation even be explained, even if it were only on an individual basis? If the work of any artist could convey this more closely to the mark of time than others, it would be that of Felix Gonzalez-Torres. Gonzales-Torres' work evokes not a timeline as conveyed by movement, nor a linear progression of sickness and inevitable death, but an earnest, emotional account of the life of a lost love. Of course, this argument would be very difficult to frame in a linear mindset. But the idea that emotion could possibly work as a means to convey time, and be an effective one at that, holds an interesting and much more personal appeal to such an illusory subject.
McDaniel, Craig, and Jean Robertson. "Time." Themes of Contemporary Art: Visual Art after 1980. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, Inc., 2010. 112-129.
Storr, Robert. “When This You See Remember Me.” Felix Gonzalez-Torres. Ed. Julie Ault. Steidldangin: New York, 2006. 5-37
Emotions are inextricably tied up with time. The quality of our consciousness colors time and seems to add an extra dimension of perceived speed. When bored, we are terribly aware of the duration of seconds, minutes, and the counting off of them (McDaniel, Robertson). Because of documents and saved artifacts, we have been able to divide up past time into periods that each have a certain feel to them. Could one deny the gilded splendor (perhaps even gaudiness) of the Byzantine era? The states artists have tried to reflect over the centuries has ranged from the corners of human experience to the common place.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
In “When This You See Remember Me,” Robert Storr opens his discussion of Felix Gonzalez-Torres with an anecdote about the artist’s Untitled (Placebo). The piece consists of 1,000 to 1,200 pounds of hard candies arranged on the floor of a gallery space. Storr recalls, “…two young boys race toward the rectangular mirage and frantically fill their pockets . . . a uniformed guard steps forward and admonishes them to behave” (5). Storr clarifies that the guard not only allows the children to take a few pieces of the art work, but also makes a point to explain to their mother what the piece is about.
For a discussion of artworks that involve time, such a story is helpful and possibly essential. The magic of Untitled (Placebo) is not just that it changes slowly over a long period of time, but that any single viewing, like the one Storr describes, functions as its own fleeting play, with specific characters and outcomes. A narrative exists not only in the diminishing size of the mass but also in the thousands of individual stories of how each candy is removed. Stories like this are less likely to result from more traditional, stagnant sculptures. Unique, unforeseen viewing experiences might happen in sculptures of traditional approaches, but in Untitled (Placebo) their catalyst is designed into the piece. By including the participation of the guards and allowing the viewers to take souvenirs, Gonzalez-Torres takes the theme of time to levels that not even kinetic sculpture could not reach. The open interaction between viewers and guard breaks down the structure of “museological power” and “institutional hierarchies” (6). Such a move creates a scene in ‘real world time’ where people speak to each other naturally rather than in a frozen ‘museum’ time where guards stand silently, their opinions and knowledge a mystery, while the viewer is left with only herself and her thoughts.
Storr, Robert. “When This You See Remember Me.” Felix Gonzalez-Torres. Ed. Julie Ault. Steidldangin:
Element of Time

Sligh's Message

In “Healing the Cultural Body” Laura U. Marks discusses the work of Clarissa Sligh. Sligh, an African American female artist, uses the notion of time to give a voice to and discuss themes of gender and race. This is exemplified perfectly in her cyanotype with pastel Kill or Be Killed (1991). The cyanotype shows African American men in church while the dialogue “to be ‘a man’ you are required to be willing to kill or be killed” came from a questionnaire she sent out to “dozens of friends and acquaintances.” The gender role presented by the piece is very masculine while the photographs of the African American men allude to the role African American males have traditionally had to play into, which was very masculine and very strong.
In the essay Sligh is quoted as saying that during the civil rights movement very few men participated in passive resistant demonstrations because of this expected strong masculine role. I think this history is what Sligh is trying to portray in this work. The cyanotype process has been around since the mid 19th century so it gives a historical marking to the work. This choice of process along with the expressed traditional role for African American men seem to be pointing out this historically marginalized group and showing how little has changed.
TIME in SCULPTURE

Umberto Boccioni’s Futurist work, Unique Forms of Continuity in Space, 1913 was the first piece I thought of when starting our reading about the relevance of time in art. As I progressed through the chapter, I realized that the sculpture contains many of the artistic representations of time explained in our book. His innovative use of undulating forms to create the illusion of stopped action at a given moment in time is similar to sculptures eighty-seven years younger. Heide Fasnacht’s piece, Demo, 2000, deals with the same three aspects of time. The most obvious is the “(rapidly moving) time” in which the figure glides through space. Also present is the “(stopped) time of the artwork’s depiction; and third, the (much slower but still moving) time of the viewer’s experience walking around and looking at the artwork” (112-113).
This piece also “embodies time.” The careful rendering of bronze into a smooth massive object is proof of the laborious and time consuming task Boccioni underwent. The way in which the curvilinear forms trail the statue are similar to the illusions of movement in stop-action photographs (118-120). These forms also create a beautiful rhythm, another important aspect in the “time arts.” The figure appears to be suspended mid-stride. Instead of darting through the area practically unnoticed, it is frozen in time. The artist and viewer are able to slow down time and break down the figure shape by shape. “By altering the clocklike rhythm of time, an artist explores time much as a composer explores rhythm in music” (129). Though Boccioni’s work is not a contemporary piece of art and lacks the technological sophistication of its successors, I believe that the ways in which this sculpture represents time and movement are very similar to more modern pieces of "time art."
McDaniel, Craig, and Jean Robertson. Themes of Contemporary Art: Visual Art after 1980. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, Inc., 2010. 112-129.
Time and Carrie Mae Weems

Refercence:
Recycling of the Past

Jones, Jonathon. "The Chapman brothers' 'rectified' Goya - the breaking of art's ultimate taboo Art and design The Guardian." Latest news, comment and reviews from the Guardian guardian.co.uk. The Guardian, 31 Mar. 2003. Web. 16 Feb. 2010. http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2003/mar/31/artsfeatures.turnerprize2003.
TIME
My favorite expression of the passing of time has to be Andrea Bowers' "Waiting". Because normally when we think of the passing of time we think of movement... the progression of something... seeing something evolve. However Bowers took a different approach in this video. It shows an ice skater kneeling on the ice as if she is waiting for her music to start so that she can begin her performance. When the music starts she just stays kneeling and the music loops, but she never moves. There is no narrative either. Its almost as time is standing still.
Andrea Bowers took a very beautiful take on time... Normally in out society when we think of time we think of it flying by... but in this installation by Bowers she seems to make it stop.
http://teachingphoto.com/photos/Waiting.jpg
Due to the fact that “AIDS: Cultural Analysis/Cultural Activism” by Douglas Crimp was written before I was born, I am going to attempt to relate my current knowledge of AIDS in today’s time period to the AIDS epidemic in the eighties. Even in current times it seems that people still stereotype when they hear the word “AIDS”. Automatically, homosexuality springs into their mind. I am basing this opinion on an incident from my sociology class when the topic of AIDS was discussed. We were learning about the statistical data, in particular the percentages of different racial categories with AIDS. Which Crimp also mentions in his writing, showing the copy on a poster saying “54% of the people with AIDS in New York City are black and Hispanic” (Kocur, Leung 146). However, despite the fact that the class was talking about racial statistics, someone brought up the question of the percentage of people with AIDS being higher for homosexuals. Proving the point that people still, in 2010, stereotypically think that AIDS relates most closely to homosexuality and its practices. According to the Crimp, PBS’s program “McNeilLehrer Newshour” discussed the issue of AIDS in a way that was pushing the stereotype of homosexuality and AIDS into the public’s mind. Crimp says, “it reinforces the equation of AIDS and homosexuality, neglecting even to mention the possibility that an artist, like anyone else might contract AIDS heterosexually or by sharing needles when shooting drugs” (Kocur, Leung 142). Clearly there has not been a colossal change in awareness since the eighties if today’s generation is in the same mindset as the people were twenty to thirty years ago. Putting stereotype aside, neglect and denial are also words that come to mind when discussing AIDS in the eighties.
Just as much as people wanted to escape or avoid AIDS physically, they also wanted to avoid the issue mentally. Crimp describes this beautifully by giving the examples of the “ACT UP” posters pointing out that there has been “no word from the president” (Kocur, Leung 146). If the president of the United States was avoiding the issue, I don’t see the rest of the world jumping for awareness on an issue that no one could handle mentally. Which is why the art of the ACT UP posters were brilliant. They were factual and in your face; a scare tactic that it seems the public needed. The distribution of the subway posters seems to have been a more successful way of informing in comparison to the “Let the Record Show…” installation piece presented in the New Museum window. Even though the installation was viewable to the everyday person walking by, it was still targeting a more specific audience, whereas the posters were viewed and understandable to average person in the subway. However, in agreeance with Crimp, I believe that any form of art expressing information and awareness of the issue on AIDS will and can help save lives.