One way in which this course has evolved so far is having professors stressing the formation of a question. It would be a guide to this course and help to set a goal to achieve. As of right now, I am setting out and justifying that viewing art in person is important and makes for different experiences and interpretations when the experience is not coming from a modified, reduced, and mass produced version.
MASS MoCA is the first museum that I have visited for my independent study. I went with my friends Kevin and Michele.
Plain and simple, some of the exhibits were unreal to me. I had much greater reactions when pieces were sprawled out between three different rooms than any reactions that I obtained from looking at photographs witnessed on their website prior to.
Prime examples of that are the attraction of the "Material World: Sculpture to Environment". Seven artists were invited to overshadow the factory space of the museum's already existing materials. The way in which these artists create a forceful sense with their material overpowers the existing space. "Obsessively accumulated, these materials have been transformed into monumnetal installations, confronting - and sometimes dwarfing - viewers with their size and scale".
This exhibit included:
Orly Genger's (born 1979, New York) "Big Boss" (2009-2010)
I took these photographs when I went, but I would suggest seeing these exhibits in person if possible.
Genger has rope overtake the space. The rope bursts through a wall at one point, and even builds it's own wall in the next room over. Viewers must then question their path. Painting the rope red allows the industrial material to become even more forceful towards the viewer. Genger's work often competes with a history of male dominated sculpture.
Another piece that I saw was Wade Kavanaugh (born 1979, Portland, Maine) and Stephen B. Nguygen' s (born 1976, Little Falls, Minnesota) "White Stag" (2009-2010). This piece expanded through two floors, setting up a maze-esque feel for the viewer.
(Also note the rope wall in the back and how both pieces force themselves among the space.)
Kavanaugh and Nguyen have been working with paper since 2005. The ways in which paper can be presented appear to be endless. They describe their large scale instillations as "investigations of the uncertain territory between imagined and physical space". This piece has an almost growing feel to it, as it crawls between galleries and connects the space: thus also providing a new perspective on the space that is the museum.
Alyson Shotz's (born 1964, Glendale, Arizona) "Geometry of Light" (2010) exhibit is a good example of having material stand out against a distracting area.
The texture, color, and character of the wall was a barely noticed backdrop, as the material hanging overtook my attention right away. This piece focuses on light and space. The reflective and shiny pieces help to highlight perpetual change.
Tobias Putrih's (born 1972, Kranj, Slovenia) "Reprojection: Hoosac, 2010" focuses on an idea of utopia:
"Putrih's use of cheap materials...signify both a sense of potential and impending collapse. Many of the artist's works reference the architecture and spectacle of the cinema: a space suspended between fantasy and reality".
Dan Steinhilber's (born 1972, Oshkosh, Wisconsin) "Breathing Room" (2010) was in my opinion, one of the most beautifully lit pieces.
Steinhilber seemed to stress an importance and at least explore the potential behind simplicity. He describes his work as "material reconfigurations of simple actions, such as cinching a garbage bag or wrapping a package". This specific piece as "seductive and threatening" as there were two fans presents to inflate and deflate the environment.
And the last part of the "Material World" exhibit that we got to catch before scurrying out at closing time was Michael Beautler's (born 1976, Oldenburg, Germany) "Lightning Generation" (2010)
Beautler uses extremely low budget materials as he "re-interprets standardized building components and methods of labor". Beautler creates heavy situations with incredibly light materials. He appears to play with the psychological perspective of top-down processing. Despite expectations, the materials he builds to stimulate the work place are actually light as feathers.
On the first floor of MASS MoCA, there were two featured artists. Most of the space featured the work of Petah Coyne. Her work was incredible as her multiple talents of sculpture, photography, use of materials, and use of space left me speechless. Her exhibit was titled "Everything That Rises Must Converge". Most of Coyne's art stems from films, literature, political events, and personal stories. Many of her pieces include bountiful amounts of detail. One of her pieces that especially caught my attention were her use of birds. Reading more about all of the pieces, I realize the detail extends just as far in an analytical sense as a textural visual sense. In her piece, "Untitled 1336 (Scalapino Nu Shu)", there are so many different religious, symbolic, and story related associations. One example relates to how Flannery O'Connor (an American novelist), once raised and wrote about peacocks being "renewal and the eyes of the Catholic Church".
Coyne also had several beautiful sculptures and photographs throughout the entire first floor. Her photographs portrayed people and motion as ghostly, as it appears the exposure time was for longer periods of time. They were beautifully shot and developed into massive gelatin prints.
Also sharing the first floor was the well known Leonard Nimoy, who once played Spock on Star Trek. His exhibit included large color prints of individuals expressing their secret identities. What some may label as odd or the usual "freak" would be photographed by Nimoy in a completely white bright space. Next to their image would be a small plaque that said one sentence about themselves: revealing what they felt like they had hidden from the world.
I personally felt as though this exhibit felt a bit contrived at times, but it was interesting that interviews between Nimoy and these individuals were playing on loop in this room. I almost wondered if the images would be more powerful on their own however.
My favorite image may have been the photograph of the ex-marine who now works with disabled school children, who also cross dresses and has a secret identity.
Another one had a man who was covered in filth and dirt holding an axe. I was interested and intrigued when I read the plaque that juxtaposed his image. It read "Paul-Gallery Director..."The Buddha says just let it go...so far I still have that drive. I am looking for a way to reconcile it."
I was impressed with the MASS MoCA. There were exhibits that definitely evoked emotions that would not have been triggered by a text book.
Thus far in my museum endeavors, I started to understand why it is important to see art in person. This concept became especially prevalent when many of the exhibits at MASS MoCA were focused on use and amount of physical space. The effect of viewing pieces on display beforehand on their website was radically different than standing in front of massive pieces of 3-D work.
ReplyDeleteOne example of how I backed this potential claim up is by first standing in front of three big rooms full of rope. It overtook my body completely and I felt so small compared to what was being presented in front of me. This material in Orly Genger's (born 1979, New York) "Big Boss" (2009-2010) only had a strong affect on me when I was standing in front of it feeling powerless. It felt so much greater when subconsciously comparing it to my body size in the present. I also then had to maneuver my body around the rope to get to other exhibits. Reading about how this material made one change and shape their path, and how it was implied that industrial material was that overtaking was only felt when I witnessed this piece in person.
In response to when I associated Tobias Putrih's" Reprojection: Hoosac, 2010" focuses with the word "utopia": it was not only reading the intention behind it, but the feeling I held when viewing it. It was beautifully set up in it's space. The way the lighting hit the strings and the amount of space it took up and seemed to take up made it appear bright, pure, and almost mystical. The strings hung across about one sixth of the room, but with lighting, it seemed to engulf the entire room. It gave the room a feeling completely far from darkness and negativity. The way the lighting was caught and reflected through and by the strings and open space produced a feeling of innocence, openness, heavenliness, and a feeling of almost being angelic. Standing by it made it feel as if I too was wept up in the constant atmosphere of perfection and a general feeling of content.
ReplyDeleteHowever, in response to my last comment, when I quoted how the piece was analyzed and verbally presented by the museum, “Putrih's use of cheap materials...signify both a sense of potential and impending collapse. Many of the artist's works reference the architecture and spectacle of the cinema: a space suspended between fantasy and reality"...the use of inexpensive, not necessarily durable materials allows to represent a potential lack of permanence. The connection I personally established to cinema was the surreal feeling an individual obtains when standing front of the piece viewing it. People gathered around the piece that focused on lighting and it's mystical feel. There was a clear interaction between real people and the fantasy feeling that was physically being presented to it's spectators. I definitely feel as if the way in which lighting was used was the main part of this piece that made me feel a connection to a cinematic-esque experience.
ReplyDeleteI feel a strong connection after this semester with Steinhilber's stress of simplicity. Although his piece that I saw was laid out in front of me in a wide open space, I feel compelled to create work keeping his concept in mind. For the last two years in film school I worked extremely hard, but tend to pick up on patterns I sometimes deem as weak. One happens to be that I overcomplicate certain pieces. I may put too many words into a piece or use an abundance of images to a point where they begin to take away from each other. It was first my professor Jonathon Shwartz who pointed out the compelling reactions a strong simplistic idea can create.
ReplyDeleteThis idea of simplicity can also also be compared to the process that many of the pieces in MASS MoCA were made. One example is Tobias Putrih's "Reprojection: Hoosac, 2010". As discussed earlier, her use of cheaper materials physically taking up a small space that overpowers a big space creates a sense of perfect simplicity, yet offers an idea of potential collapse.
Petah Coyne. Incredible. Her pieces took up a majority of my time when I was at the MASS MoCA because there was so much to take in. No matter what material she was using, each detail of her piece intricately weeved itself into the mix of details that accompanied themselves as a whole.
ReplyDeleteThis is when I first understood one aspect of why this course could become as influential as it truly has. In high school, when I took my pre-college courses, they were mostly classroom based. Now that I am going and seeking art in person, I am learning new ways of approaching interpreting pieces. Now there are physical details, angles, uses of space, sizes, atmospheres to take into account.
Coyne's photographs presented both feelings of ghostly eeriness and peacefulness. Her photographs to me were more about emotions and a sense of whim. They were beautiful in a poetic composition, much like her sculptures.
After researching more about Orly Genger, I have stumbled upon more examples of her work representing a fight against an all too common macho dominance in art. To begin, she commonly uses a crafty material that is cloth like in many of her pieces. This helps to trace a connection to women being associated with textile and knitting: both of which have been trained to be placed with the role of a feminine. The way in which she represents these materials with space, abundance, and presence helps to overpower and fight the stereotypical associations.
ReplyDelete"Even while Genger's sculptures visually evoke references to the stiff, strict, muscular and macho minimalist traditions pioneered by Richard Serra, Frank Stella, Carl Andre and their peers, her choice of a medium and her manner of manipulating it undermine the conventions and clichés of that tradition. Similarly, her use of fabric evokes comparisons with feminist traditions of textile- and craft-based art." (http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/blogon/art_news/orly_genger_in_conversation_with_ana_finel_honigman/5425)
The presentation of adding up a material demonstrates the power to be formed behind an assumed delicacy. Many people underestimate or assume the ability of a material: Genger proves this to be wrong and even proves this idea by representing her gender. She is also a physically petite person, so some even speculate (and I agree) that she challenges size and assumptions with the power behind overtaking material and specific color choices.
Petah Coyne started emerging in the art world during the late eighties, where she was one of the first to start incorporating the crafting of nature and physiological connections to domestic associations.
ReplyDeleteMany of her pieces consisted of materials I pass in everyday life, but had never seen weaved together in such sophisticated concepts. The way in which her sculptures were set up made me view them from certain angles. For example, when I first walked in and witnessed Untitled 1336 (her sculptures of the hanging flowers and bird), I was allowed to look at the pieces from a small hole in the wall while standing behind red velvet ropes. This put me in a role of feeling like a spectator. Later on, We walked out onto a balcony and overlooked the same pieces that were hanging. The two positions made me view the piece differently. When standing below, each piece individually caught my attention. My eyes shifted from one to the other as each tall piece I separated from each other. When standing above, I felt the presence of the pieces as a set. Overlooking the entire room, each piece coupled with the next to dominate the space.
Untitled 1336 was visually eloquent, physically overpowering, and filled with artistic integrity. Coyne incorporates an abundance of concepts and influences in her work. One example is numbers. With the amount of birds in her sculpture, she was "adding the integers of 17 (1 + 7) yields 8, which correlates to an octagon, an intermediate form between a square and a circle, signifying a positive transition or regeneration". I also remember reading about religious connotations between specific birds and death. (research done on : http://www.artinamericamagazine.com/features/petah-coyne/2/)
I connected Coyne's sculptures to her photography because many of her photographs were eerie and ghostly. I associated a few of her pieces with death, or question of death filling the air. There was a certain gloominess in many of her pieces: done in sophisticated, beautifully composed ways. Her documentation through her camera catching her subjects in motion and in a ghostly way to me showed potential ritualistic movements. The motion in which she catches them is disengaging from the subject. It feels surreal, as if the subjects are in another reality. Her sculptures tended to conjure up this feeling of being removed from the created reality for me also, as it was homely material represented in such patterns of abundance. Both art forms I could make connections to the concepts, but also felt removed from what her pieces displayed about the subjects, especially in relation to death. This too made being a spectator overwhelmingly apparent.
Petah Coyne started emerging in the art world during the late eighties, where she was one of the first to start incorporating the crafting of nature and physiological connections to domestic associations.
ReplyDeleteMany of her pieces consisted of materials I pass in everyday life, but had never seen weaved together in such sophisticated concepts. The way in which her sculptures were set up made me view them from certain angles. For example, when I first walked in and witnessed Untitled 1336 (her sculptures of the hanging flowers and bird), I was allowed to look at the pieces from a small hole in the wall while standing behind red velvet ropes. This put me in a role of feeling like a spectator. Later on, We walked out onto a balcony and overlooked the same pieces that were hanging. The two positions made me view the piece differently. When standing below, each piece individually caught my attention. My eyes shifted from one to the other as each tall piece I separated from each other. When standing above, I felt the presence of the pieces as a set. Overlooking the entire room, each piece coupled with the next to dominate the space.
Untitled 1336 was visually eloquent, physically overpowering, and filled with artistic integrity. Coyne incorporates an abundance of concepts and influences in her work. One example is numbers. With the amount of birds in her sculpture, she was "adding the integers of 17 (1 + 7) yields 8, which correlates to an octagon, an intermediate form between a square and a circle, signifying a positive transition or regeneration". I also remember reading about religious connotations between specific birds and death. (research done on : http://www.artinamericamagazine.com/features/petah-coyne/2/)
I connected Coyne's sculptures to her photography because many of her photographs were eerie and ghostly. I associated a few of her pieces with death, or question of death filling the air. There was a certain gloominess in many of her pieces: done in sophisticated, beautifully composed ways. Her documentation through her camera catching her subjects in motion and in a ghostly way to me showed potential ritualistic movements. The motion in which she catches them is disengaging from the subject. It feels surreal, as if the subjects are in another reality. Her sculptures tended to conjure up this feeling of being removed from the created reality for me also, as it was homely material represented in such patterns of abundance. Both art forms I could make connections to the concepts, but also felt removed from what her pieces displayed about the subjects, especially in relation to death. This too made being a spectator overwhelmingly apparent.
Petah Coyne started emerging in the art world during the late eighties, where she was one of the first to start incorporating the crafting of nature and physiological connections to domestic associations.
ReplyDeleteMany of her pieces consisted of materials I pass in everyday life, but had never seen weaved together in such sophisticated concepts. The way in which her sculptures were set up made me view them from certain angles. For example, when I first walked in and witnessed Untitled 1336 (her sculptures of the hanging flowers and bird), I was allowed to look at the pieces from a small hole in the wall while standing behind red velvet ropes. This put me in a role of feeling like a spectator. Later on, We walked out onto a balcony and overlooked the same pieces that were hanging. The two positions made me view the piece differently. When standing below, each piece individually caught my attention. My eyes shifted from one to the other as each tall piece I separated from each other. When standing above, I felt the presence of the pieces as a set. Overlooking the entire room, each piece coupled with the next to dominate the space.
Untitled 1336 was visually eloquent, physically overpowering, and filled with artistic integrity. Coyne incorporates an abundance of concepts and influences in her work. One example is numbers. With the amount of birds in her sculpture, she was "adding the integers of 17 (1 + 7) yields 8, which correlates to an octagon, an intermediate form between a square and a circle, signifying a positive transition or regeneration". I also remember reading about religious connotations between specific birds and death. (research done on : http://www.artinamericamagazine.com/features/petah-coyne/2/)
ReplyDeleteI connected Coyne's sculptures to her photography because many of her photographs were eerie and ghostly. I associated a few of her pieces with death, or question of death filling the air. There was a certain gloominess in many of her pieces: done in sophisticated, beautifully composed ways. Her documentation through her camera catching her subjects in motion and in a ghostly way to me showed potential ritualistic movements. The motion in which she catches them is disengaging from the subject. It feels surreal, as if the subjects are in another reality. Her sculptures tended to conjure up this feeling of being removed from the created reality for me also, as it was homely material represented in such patterns of abundance. Both art forms I could make connections to the concepts, but also felt removed from what her pieces displayed about the subjects, especially in relation to death. This too made being a spectator overwhelmingly apparent.