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  • admin 7:27 am on March 5, 2010 Permalink  

    Apres Video: "F#$%ing fantastic!" 

    From Carrie Miller

    I know what you’re wondering. What’s that smell? Well, it’s the decomposing corpse of video art in the stockrooms of prestigious contemporary art galleries around the world.

    Twenty years ago none of us could have predicted the breathtaking ascendancy of the video art genre and its attendant market in recent times. After years of poor old Mike Parr plugging earnestly away, it seemed that the genre suddenly exploded a few years ago.

    But neither could we have predicted its demise. The so-called art expert that created this blog certainly didn’t see it coming. He put all his now rotting eggs into the basket of video art with his forthcoming book on the topic. From here on in, it can only sit impotently in his bottom drawer, a mere redundancy, a cultural irrelevance.

    It’s not often that the death of an art form can be precisely pinned down. But let the record show that October the 9th, 2009 was the day the music died for video art.

    Up until this point artists have only ever dealt in the perfume of the video form. Appropriately enough in this postmodern world, it’s taken an outsider to distill it to its essence. His name is Steve Walsh and he’s my hero. In a mere 47 seconds he puts an end to an entire industry of filmic pretension and posturing. With his crappy promotional video for an epi-centre of bourgeois leisure at the heart of Australia’s most vacuous city – Sydney’s Centennial Park – Walsh has done what even the great Tony Schwensen would struggle to: capture the banal truths of middle-class existence in a succinct and brutally unconsidered way. This amateur has achieved what Manet could have only hoped to with Le déjeuner sur l’herbe had he been a bit less French.

    I don’t want to panic any contemporary art collectors out there, but you know those discs with that guy skateboarding in the rain that you tripped over each to acquire? The following is irrefutable proof that you’ve been had.

    If you’re viewing this post via email, click here to see the video. Caution: probably not safe for work.

     
  • admin 7:59 am on February 16, 2010 Permalink  

    Beyond The Edge 

    Some months back we posted an image by Ross Racine. After the artist got in touch to ask us to let readers know that he has new work available on his web site, we asked if he’d agree to a short email interview. Conducted over the last month, Ross offered some insights into his work:

    The Art Life: You’ve spoken before on the method you use to make your images, but could you briefly explain your combination of techniques?

    Ross Racine: The note on my technical process, available on my site, gives an overview of how I proceed. In a nutshell, the process involves creating the artwork in two steps: the first and main one is drawing freehand directly with the computer, and the second one is printing the image on paper with an inkjet printer. The drawing phase involves working with Photoshop with a pen and a tablet, aside from some preparatory work in Illustrator. In Photoshop, I start from a blank ground and build up the image with a small set of basic tools, such as selection, painting and cloning tools, copying and pasting, layers, luminosity and contrast controls, grain and smoothness modifications, and automation. In short, the process is a combination of digitally drawn material and various transformations done to this material.


    Ross Racine, New Foxtown and Westhaven Villas, 2008.
    Digital drawing, 60×80cms.

    RR: One of the main properties of digital drawing is a virtual, non-material working environment. The fact that the image is not bound to a physical base has several advantages. It allows various combinations of techniques and treatments, an ease in modifying the whole image at once, an ease in copying and cutting, moving and pasting parts of the work (within an image as well as between images), the blending of layers of variable translucency, and the creation of copies of the image in progress (to save steps in the generation of the work and to create different versions of a work). Working in the virtual world also means the image can be altered at any time, even after a final version is established, thus creating a new, different image from a “final” one. Another property of the medium is its very fast speed compared to most physical media. This allows a very short delay between intention and result, as little time is needed to try out various ideas.

    TAL: The result of your approach creates pictures that land somewhere between photography and drawing, and they have an almost hyper-real quality to them – is your intention that the viewer respond in a particular way?

    RR: With the medium of digital drawing and my rather realistic treatment of the subject, my aim is to work in the gaps between photography and traditional, physical drawing. I am aware that many people who happen upon my prints think that they are photos, at least initially. Digital drawing is a relatively new medium among more established visual art mediums. There are few precedents to act as visual references to help viewers approach this type of drawing. But hopefully, a tradition will gradually emerge to make viewers, including myself, more familiar with this new domain of imagery. A precedent can be found in the last two decades in photography (in art, design, and other fields), as viewers have come to expect a measure of manipulation in any photograph, whether this manipulation is apparent or not, ranging from obvious color and shape distortion to very subtle and invisible detail correction. Viewers in front of the actual prints of my work (24 x 32″) are less likely to consider them photographs, as (words deleted) the drawing-like detail on the surface is more visible.

    TAL: The aerial view perspectives of your images suggest a disconnected point of view, one that isn’t necessarily experienced by many people, but are familiar from satellite imagery, weather maps, surveillance images – and seems to suggest a very eerie feeling of being watched, or targeted – is there an intention an explicit criticism of suburbia, of expansion in your work?

    RR: I value the distant, aerial point of view as promoting an attitude of reflection about the world. The public in general has, in the last decade or so, experienced an increased familiarity with the aerial viewpoint, with the instant availability of satellite imagery on the Web. This type of image is quickly becoming as ubiquitous in daily experience as the map. The feeling of “being watched” you mention is not my intention, but nevertheless interesting. It depends on how much you identify with the residents of my suburbs. On the other hand, I acknowledge a feeling of “watching”, as the viewer of my prints is in the position of the all-seeing observer. The watcher knows some things that the inhabitants of these subdivisions do not. My viewpoint is also that of the planner: the all-over, top-down approach of the decision maker. There is an obvious criticism of suburbia in my images, mainly through the exaggeration of certain of its characteristics. The suburbs are the fastest growing part of the urban environment in the majority of nations. But beyond the suburban example, these digital drawings are a way of thinking about design, the city and society as a whole. I would like my prints to remain as open as possible, to be triggers for reflection through analogy with various aspects of the world.

    TAL: The way you use the imagery of suburbia seems to imply visual conundrums – it feels as if you’re being pulled into the detail of the work trying to sort out individual houses, drive ways… What’s happening there?

    RR: I think the conundrum is due to the small size of the jpgs available on the Web. When in front of an actual 24 x 32″ print, the viewer has the liberty to look at it from a certain distance to take in the overall composition and then to come nearer to examine the details within each “property”, making the experience a more intimate one, almost like eavesdropping.


    Ross Racine, Subdivision, Cedar Valley, 2006.
    Digital drawing, 15 x 20 inches.

    TAL: By conundrum, the suggestion was that certain of your images, say for example the views of the housing estates as circles, some like question marks, many of them isolated like desert communities or clustered together in what appears to be empty space, have a very interesting visual play, like an Escher drawing or a jigsaw – were these the kinds of references you were looking at when began to create these drawings? Or was there some other inspiration?

    RR: I am inspired by diagrams, by the means by which information can be represented in visual form. The vocabulary of diagrams can be very straightforward and powerful. I use it for composition and also to imply that the suburbs’ contents (material and human), seen from a high aerial viewpoint, may be also considered information. The word I use for my application of the idea of the diagram is structure. A related concern is the conflation of the macroscopic and microscopic scales suggested by the concept of structure. The observable world has many examples of organizations that are similar at both scales, for example the concentric structure. I am also interested in the implications of living within a specific structure, for example the experience of living in an endless accumulation of haphazardly connected streets.

    TAL: The images imply a science fictional formulation of suburbia. Do you imagine that there is a particular scenario going on in these places?

    RR: I am definitely open to a science fictional reading of my images and I leave the viewer to imagine possible narratives for an image, if a person is so inclined, but I wouldn’t encourage the formation of definite scenarios. This would limit the evocative potential of the image. After all, my prints remain first and foremost images, not descriptions of established stories.

    Rossracine.com

     
  • admin 10:13 am on February 5, 2010 Permalink  

    This just in 

    Just as we posted our roundup of comments from our call for suggestions for influential shows [see below], we received an email from a reader we shall do the favour of calling Sgt. Schultz. Although not exactly what you’d call a “positive” suggestion, the good Sargeant remembers a stoush in the Sydney:

    Well, perhaps not influential, but I’d say Tony Bond’s Body exhibition at AGNSW rates a mention for the following…

    A clear realization that if you really want to see particular master works, go overseas, they’re never coming here. Bond’s inclusion of prints of artworks he wanted for the show was a pretty stark reminder that even if they could be loaned, they won’t come to the outposts. (Perhaps this has changed a little, and perhaps this embarrassing curatorial ‘decision’ spurred the good museum folks onto lobbying a bit harder and demanding standards that can not really be argued with. Maybe.)

    Secondly, Bond’s inclusion of a substantial amount of his acknowledged friend Mike Parr’s work. The ensuing battle in the SMH instigated by the esteemed critic, between himself, Bond and Parr reached fever pitch. McDonald eventually publishing a fictional fantasy dialogue. Not since (I couldn’t really say if before) has arts coverage in Sydney and likely in Australia (with the exception of the Henson Fiasco) been afforded such column inches, a trait more common in the British press. For once, a seriously curated exhibition of contemporary art was given a good going round in the papers. Who cares what was said – it was there. The sensation was not tabloid, it was merely a mutual distaste between the combatants – who in turn fired off by turns intelligent and amusing missives and an editor willing to let it run. If only that would continue.

     
  • admin 10:13 am on February 5, 2010 Permalink  

    New Work Friday #40 


    Sarah Nolan, PRETTY GOOD, 2009.
    Various fabrics, beads, sequins and polyester thread. 25×51cm


    Sarah Nolan, NAME, 2009.
    Various fabrics, beads, sequins and silk thread. 28×51cm.

    “Rewarded: This series of thirteen hand sewn pennants metaphorically represent the artist’s aspiration for a material recognition of their work. The conventional reading of these flag shapes, reminiscent of the felt pennant purchased as a souvenir or awarded for a sporting achievement, are subverted by the text, which have been sourced from art reviews, statements quoted from panel discussions, or from observations and experiences of the art world. Located somewhere between the decisive congratulatory tone to the explicit reinforcing of a fact, the reduction of this text to a single word allows the artwork to take on a more ambiguous and provocative tone. The abundance of beads, sequins and trimmings stitched on to plain and patterned fabrics imply a kitsch preciousness” – Sarah Nolan.

     
  • admin 5:10 am on February 4, 2010 Permalink  

    New Work Friday #39 


    Louise Morrison and Matt Dickmann, Mr Ernest J. Langridge’s Resignation, 2009.
    Found objects and painted steel.


    Mr Ernest J. Langridge’s Resignation, detail.
    Mr Ernest J. Langridge’s Resignation is one of the artworks in the Show Character exhibition held at the Perth Institute of Contemporary Art (PICA). Guest curator James Doohan (aka Jonah Dames) invited each of the artists to respond the idea of a “character”. In this collaborative work, Louise Morrison’s reflections on backyard inventions and the persistance of hope meet Matt Dickmann’s interests in aerodynamics and structural simplicity.”

    Got new work you’d like to share? Send images no larger than 300k each plus a short statement about the work to the art life at hot mail dot com.

     
  • admin 5:10 am on February 4, 2010 Permalink  

    Mod Off 

    Amy Marjoram writes to The Art Life about an exciting new online project. Starting life as the exhibition Mod Off held in Melbourne last month the project has now migrated to a blog and hopes to collect the work of artists dedicated to finding new uses for old things with slight [or complex] modifications.

    From the Mod Off site:

    “Mod Off is now going to exist as an ongoing online archive of Modified Objects.

    “In curating the Mod Off exhibition we were consistently surprised by the Mods we encountered, some were simple others incredibly complex – but they all challenged our expectations about objects, the way we relate to them, and many pushed our ideas of what a Mod can be. We look forward to the continuation of this exciting project and hope you will show us your Mods. Please email amymarjoram@gmail.com with images and any descriptions you have, please include your name as maker of the Mod (or mark as Unknown if you have witnessed a Mod of uncertain provenance) and the person who took the image.

    “We will not re-post Mod’s that people have come across online but we are happy to hear about Mod’s on the internet that may expand our research. We immensely look forward to seeing the objects you have made or encountered & identified as Mods in your daily life.

    Thankyou, Amy Marjoram & Yvette King”

    Visit the Mod Off blog

     
  • admin 5:10 am on February 4, 2010 Permalink  

    Media and murder 

    Professor Joanna Mendelssohn was among those first contacted by members of the media in the immediate aftermath of the murder of Nick Waterlow and his daughter Chloe Heuston. In this article on the ethics of news reporting – originally commissioned and written for the Jesuit Communications Australia website Eureka Street – Mendelssohn describes her experiences of the subsequent news reporting.

    In the early evening of Monday 9 November 2009 Chloe Heuston and her father Nick Waterlow, guiding spirit of many Biennales of Sydney and mentor to generations of artists and arts administrators, were killed in a knife attack. Chloe’s two year old daughter was injured, while her sons – aged four and four months respectively- were not.

    I first heard of these events at 11 pm that evening when I was contacted by Geeshe Jacobsen of the Sydney Morning Herald, who asked me if I was aware that Nick Waterlow could be one of two people who had died that evening. When I expressed a sleepy surprise, she clarified the situation by describing it as “the murder-suicide”. My response was that if there was a murder-suicide, then the murderer could not be him. I told her that Nick Waterlow did not do murder. Again she repeated that it was a murder-suicide and that the man was 68 years old. She was so adamant about the murder-suicide that I went to bed convinced Nick Waterlow was alive. The next morning’s edition of the Sydney Morning Herald was published with Nick and Chloe’s photographs, as an accompaniment to the story of the killings, which effectively identified them as the victims. The murder-suicide story was quietly killed.

    Because the journalist did not apologise either for her behaviour or her initial allegation, I later complained to the Sydney Morning Herald. I received a call from Peter Kerr, the executive editor, who apologised on behalf of the paper. The next week Geeshe Jacobsen had the new byline of “Crime Editor”.

    There is a reason why police delay the naming of victims of crime. They need time to notify the immediate family, so that the news can be broken to close friends and other relatives. The decision by the Sydney Morning Herald to effectively announce that Nick Waterlow and Chloe Heuston were dead well ahead of any official notice, added an extra layer of grief to those who were close to them. Nick’s neighbours had another problem. He had lived with his partner Juliet in a block of apartments in Potts Point. That evening a journalist, identified as being from the Sydney Morning Herald, buzzed apartments in the block, attempting to contact her for an interview.

    Photographers and television crews descended on the hospital where the injured child had been taken and filmed her as she was rushed into surgery. The ambulance officers did well in covering the little girl with a blanked to protect her from the flashing lights of the cameras, but the photographs still appeared in daily papers, on television and remain on the Web.

    As the Sydney Morning Herald had identified Nick’s place of work; television crews, photographers and journalists made an early beeline for the College of Fine Arts, UNSW, where people were trying to come to terms with the death of one of their most loved colleagues. Fortunately the university employs skilled public relations staff, so a media conference was arranged with the Dean, Ian Howard. His voice became the formal response of the arts community to the loss of one of its favourite sons. Good media management meant that the university’s meeting with faculty staff was timed for 12 noon, which coincided with the police media briefing.

    Later some journalists returned to COFA, staking out the gallery, to see who entered. Restrictions on contacting university staff didn’t stop journalists from phoning or calling in with increasingly absurd questions, or demanding that staff help them to contact the family. One of the problems the journalists faced is that those who work in the arts are reasonably used to dealing with the media, and did not see anything especially enticing about being quoted in the popular press. When no intimate details were forthcoming, the media claimed that Nick Waterlow had been “intensely private” and commented on the “tight-knit” arts community as they created anecdotes and attitudes on his behalf.

    The police had indicated that the person of interest was his eldest son, Antony, who was reported as being a schizophrenic. In 2006 Nick Waterlow had been marginally involved in a major touring exhibition on art and schizophrenia, For Matthew and Others. This information triggered stories claiming the exhibition was evidence of his concern. Photographs of Antony Waterlow were distributed and published in the media. It was unfortunate that The Daily Telegraph published a photograph of Nick’s other son, Luke, and captioned it “Antony Waterlow partying with friends”.

    Chloe’s husband, Ben Heuston, had been in England when she was killed. The media, including the ABC, staked out Sydney airport to record his distraught face as he returned home. Later, after he collected the children from hospital, the media pursued them, and subsequently published images of the fugitives.

    That the circumstances of this family and their friends were turned into tabloid entertainment is perhaps not surprising. Frontline neatly parodied this kind of death-knock journalism years ago. However when the tabloid media hounded Lindy Chamberlain family in the 1980s they were not joined by the ABC and Fairfax broadsheets. But in 2009 “quality” press were ahead of the pack in journalistic bad behaviour.

    The ABC broadcast footage surreptitiously recorded inside the church service at both funerals as a part of its evening news bulletin. In style and content the stories in the Sydney Morning Herald were interchangeable with those in The Daily Telegraph.

    I keep wondering how to categorise the way news media have acted over these deaths. Is the failure to respect the feelings of those close to Nick Waterlow and Chloe Heuston a failure of ethics or a failure of empathy? Perhaps it isn’t possible to develop a functioning code of professional ethics without some sense of empathy. Whatever the reason, this has hardly been journalism’s finest hour.

     
  • admin 5:10 am on February 4, 2010 Permalink  

    "It’s Art As You’ve Never Seen It Before…" 

    Tino La Bamba’s quest to ride a motorised dragster from Sydney to Lismore was an astonishing success but it is only now that the startling details of his adventure are becoming known. La Bamba, who may be somehow related to Renny Kodgers [second cousin?], made an unexpected appearance on Prime News:

    More details of La Bamab’s trip can be found on his webiste, such as this intriguing tidbit:

    “Word is continuing to spread of my remarkable odyssey. The largest newspaper in the district, The Northern Star interviews me. They are keen to hear of the knowledge that I have gleaned by travelling through this harsh land. I speak to two men. A writer and a photographer who have been sent to cover my story. They stare up at me wide eyed as I impart my observations on the landscape that has surrounded them their entire lives. They ask me if I have encountered any hostility as I passed from pueblo to pueblo. I tell them that I have only encountered “hostility tamed”. They look at me like I make no sense. So I explain to them that if ever there was a moment of aggression it was so quickly abated that it would be incorrect to call it hostility. The appropriate term is “hostility tamed”. I tell them that yes I came across a lot of this.”

    Read more at Tinolabamba.com.

     
  • admin 5:10 am on February 4, 2010 Permalink  

    С Рождеством Христовым 

    Via Weetstraw.com

     
  • admin 5:10 am on February 4, 2010 Permalink  

    2010 – The Year We Make Contact 

    Greetings from The Art Life. To celebrate our sixth year online we’ve decided to make a bold decision – namely, to continue to allow our readers the ability to voice their opinions. The comments attached to this blog have a life of their own and, while many believe that the comments should have been allowed to expire like prawns in the sun – others believed they represent a history of snakrdom in the art world. Thus, for 2010, we’ve updated our Haloscan comments to the newer shinier ECHO platform. This means two things: all the comments left on the blog since 2004 will continue to exist; second, there is a new process for moderating the comments. We may take some time to respond, but we will. Please be patient. In the meantime, please to enjoy…

     
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