Alberti’s Window

Last weekend I went to this really fantastic exhibition at the Bellevue Arts Museum (BAM). All of the artists in this exhibition create their art out of printed books and book covers. Using books as a medium for sculptures gives new definition to the word “volume,” doesn’t it?

I particularly liked this work on the left, Petra, by Guy Laramée (2007). I’ve always thought Petra was a fascinating place (I’ve even blogged about it here, where you can see a picture of the actual treasury that inspired Laramée). Another work in the show by Laramée consisted of two rows of stacked Encyclopedia Brittanicas, with one side of each row carved like a canyon. (You can see a picture of the piece and an artist statement here).

There was also a striking work by the Scottish artist Georgia Russell. Most of Russell’s works involve cutting books, book covers, and photographs. The one shown here, Leurs Secrets (2007) is similar to the one in the BAM’s show. You can see more of Russell’s work here.

The exhibition also had some “excavated books” by James Allen. I thought this one, Churches of our Fathers (2007) was especially beautiful and striking.

You really should check out Jennifer Shoshbin’s altered books too. A few of these were in the show too. Her style and idea are an interesting mixture of vintage and contemporary, which is really fun.

It was interesting to go to this show and think about the history of books and print. My husband is a graphic designer, and we often have talked about the demise of printed books and printed material. I wonder how long it will take for most books to be produced online or through digital format (which is sad, since I love holding books and flipping through their pages). In a way, using books as an artistic medium in this show (and placing those books in a museum, the place where artifacts are preserved) seemed to historicize printed books even more. And some of the words used to describe the art (e.g. “excavated”) further antiquated the book medium. Although I loved this show (I would wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who lives in the Seattle area), I also couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness for the future of books and printed material.

What do you think about these artists and their works? What do you think about the demise of printed books?

Last night I went to Seattle University to hear W. J. T. Mitchell speak. I remember studying writings by Mitchell as a grad student, and I was intrigued by his lecture title, “The War of Images: 9/11 to the Present.” The lecture was interesting and I was struck by Mitchell’s persona; he was approachable and seemed to be constantly thinking and reviewing new ideas.

A large part of Mitchell’s work revolves around the discussion of words and images – how words and images are different, what words are used to describe images, etc. I was not surprised in this lecture, therefore, to see that Mitchell was interested in the examining the word “terror” and the metaphoric war that is currently being waged on the emotion signified by that word. (How are you supposed to fight an emotion?)

During the lecture Mitchell showed many pictures that have been distributed and displayed as a result from the “war on terror.” I was living out-of-the-country when the Abu Grahib photos began to emerge, so I had to read a little more about them after the lecture. These images of prisoners being tortured and abused led to an internal investigation within the US Army. It is thought by many that this “Hooded Man” depiction will always be remembered as the iconic photograph for the war in Iraq:

Mitchell showed different places and instances where this Abu Ghraib photograph has emerged and reemerged as part of the discourse on the war. As a counter-message, reproductions of the “Hooded Man” appeared in a silkscreen format that parodies the current iPod ads:

Mitchell briefly suggested that in addition to decrying the war in these iRaq posters, another counter-message is created by referencing the iPod – the iPod is related to self-pleasure. Although we didn’t end up discussing any narratives or ideas created by this contradicting image of self-pleasure and torture, I think it’s an interesting idea. (Does anyone want to further this idea or suggest a narrative?) In addition to self-pleasure, I think that the iPods also embody self-absorption; one seems to shut out the world when iPod buds are in their ears. It’s interesting to think about this poster in regards to the criticisms of self-absorption that have been heaped upon the Bush administration and America since the inception of this war.

I was surprised that Mitchell showed only a few pictures of Saddam Hussein, not for political reasons but for historical comprehensiveness (my bias as a historian is apparent!). The first photograph, shown right at the beginning of the lecture, was an equestrian statue of Hussein. As a historian, I think of the equestrian statue tradition as connected with antiquity. I wondered if by selecting this photograph Mitchell was historicizing Hussein’s role in the war, perhaps suggesting that Hussein’s role in the war is dated and passé, like this statuary tradition. I also thought this equestrian statue seemed very irrelevant and out-of-place with the other images shown in the presentation; the other images were more contemporary and often used Photoshop technology. It was interesting to think about what kind of statements about the war and Hussein’s role could be derived from a “dated” and perhaps “irrelevant” image. Interestingly, though, the last image in the presentation was also of Saddam Hussein, this time a photograph of the leader soon after his capture. By depicting Saddam’s medical examination by an Army doctor, I think this photograph was supposed to show the concern of the Americans for their prisoner. However, Mitchell pointed out that this photograph actually a degrading and humiliating depiction of Saddam:

It didn’t take long for people to criticize the American government through this photograph. In Mitchell’s presentation, a caption included with this photo (no doubt found by Mitchell on the internet, but I can’t find where), said “The search for weapons of mass destruction continues…”

I felt like this was a fitting photograph for the end of the lecture. Since I felt the inclusion of the equestrian statue dated and historicized Saddam, I liked that Mitchell included an active, more contemporary photograph of Saddam at the end of the presentation. Although Saddam was not responsible for the 9/11 attacks, I felt that his historical role with the (ongoing) Iraq invasion was better represented with this final photograph. To me, it was appropriate to view this photograph and caption while Mitchell explained that the war on terror (and the war of images) still continues today.

Last week I went to a couple of sessions of an art symposium. The invited guest speaker was the artist Brian Kershisnik, a local artist whom I find to be quite talented. During his speech, Kershisnik mentioned that he finds it important for painting to be self-aware. In other words, the painting should manifest awareness that it is a painting, awareness that it is a flat canvas which contains representations of objects with the medium of paint. This self-awareness of painting can especially be observed in Kershisnik’s style, since his figures are very flat. In this painting, Gardening in the Rain, the flatness of the figure (and subsequently, the flatness of the canvas) is further emphasized by the pattern on the woman’s dress and the stylized depiction of falling rain.

During a Q & A session, I asked Kershisnik to further discuss his ideas regarding the self-awareness of painting. He said something interesting, which I can’t quote verbatim (my notes are already packed away!) but it went something like this:

I am interested in one having a primary experience with painting and not a surrogate experience.

In other words, Kershisnik aims to have a viewer of his work aware that he/she is standing in front of a canvas that is covered with paint. In my opinion, this aim is in contrast to many realist painters who hope that the viewer is able to place himself/herself within the painting and have a surrogate experience with the work of art (“I feel like I’m actually there!” kind of idea). With a primary experience, however, I think that one is completely external to the painting and aware of his/her present surroundings.

I think that this escapist/surrogate experience has its own place within the world of art, but I think that I generally prefer the primary experience. I love looking at the tactility of the paint (hooray for impasto!) and observing the artist’s “hand” through the movement of the brushstrokes.

What do you prefer? A primary experience? A surrogate experience? A mixture of the two? In some ways, I like having a mixture of the two paradigms (I love to be swept away in the drama of Baroque subject matter), but I think I lean a little bit more heavily on the primary experience over the surrogate.

If you like Richard Serra’s work, then you might think this is interesting.

Yesterday J introduced me to the work of Tara Donovan, a contemporary installation artist who uses everyday materials (e.g. straws, adding paper, scotch tape) for her art. The installation shown in the image is made out of styrofoam cups and hot glue.

Donvan was among the recipients for the 2008 “Genius Grant” given by the MacArthur Foundation. You can see some of her work here. I think it’s really stunning. I think my two favorites are this styrofoam cup installation and another installation made of adding paper.

What do you think? Which installation do you like?