uncertain americans pt 4
dear daniel, hans, and gunnar (curators of the uncertain states of america show)
things got a little intense in the dorms the other night, but we were able to produce two new videos that we feel may be good for the show. they represent ideas of isolation, regret, and inner turmoil. . please download the vids and play them in loop mode. maybe we can show them in iceland....
hannah slams the refrigerator door at 4:57 am:
edger and taft check to see what's in the fridge:
uncertain americans pt 3
An interesting aspect of the Uncertain States of America show is that it represents a European perspective of American art during a time when America's reputation is at a low point. The European art world tends to look its American counterparts with a great deal of cynicism, and America's recent political decisions haven't exactly helped. The curators probably took a big risk in putting this show together, and definitely did there homework: "Uncertain States is the result of an extensive, two-year, research project by the curators, who conducted more than 500 studio visits throughout the United States, compiling over 2000 files on young American artists. Their selections reflect an astute, yet contentious, assessment of the current state of American art and culture. "The exhibition is not entirely American-influences come from everywhere," state Birnbaum, Kvaran, and Obrist. "In a period where the official political culture of the United States is viewed with great skepticism on the other side of the Atlantic, it seems important to remind ourselves of this complexity. The 'Uncertain States of America' are not only uncertain, they are many."
(american artists uncertain about which way the restaurant is)
So in a way, we are all sort of like a strange band of delegates or ambassadors. The New York exhibition was the second time that we have all gathered for the opening of the Uncertain States of America show, and marks the only planned exhibition within the United States. The first time in Oslo was a little weird; we were mostly strangers to each other and a little disorientated and jetlagged, but we quickly broke the ice and started having fun right away. Next stop is Iceland, followed by London, Denmark, and then hopefully Moscow and Beijing.
This time around things got a little nutty. We were all staying in the dorms on the Bard campus and it was like an art-school-flash-back. An odd theme that emerged this weekend was we were consistently trying to pack as many people into small spaces as possible. From a refrigerator to a Ford Taurus to a lecture hall hosting a panel discussion to a swimming pool, we often found ourselves smooshed together in confined spaces. We did manage to get 3 people into the refrigerator and 8 people into the Taurus (sorry, no counts on lecture hall or swimming pool.)
(Edgar directs and is positive we can get one more person in the fridge)
(Taft's true love is roller skating / Tasha, Matt, Hannah, and Monica cruising top speed in a Ford Taurus)
uncertain americans pt 2
So far the opening of the Uncertain States of America is going pretty darn well. The new Center for Curatorial Studies at Bard College is totally amazing- the building is so new that the grass out front hasn't started growing, but it is an impressive, well-designed space that is perfect for a big, diverse show like this. It is also really nice being away from the city and out in the woods. The Bard campus is about an hour north of NYC on the Hudson River, and is as beautiful and serene as it gets.
The opening kicked off Saturday afternoon with performance artist Rodney McMillian re-delivering Lyndon B. Johnson's Great Society speech. This is an incredible speech, and not unlike the Jimmy Carter speeches I referred to in an earlier post, it is a perfect example of a piece of forgotten history that proves that there were visionaries in the past who were trying to proactively solve the problems of today, but were tripped up by lazy and greedy interests who were more interested in quick fixes than long term solutions. Rodney's performance was an energizing alternative to the usual stuffy talking head speeches that typically open a show like this.
(New Humans / Rodney McMillian)
The day progressed with more performances by The New Humans and Mario Ybarro, a few very interesting panel discussions, and a really nice barbeque. The show is very diverse, and supposedly represents "the cutting edge trends in American art." I am always a little skeptical of any kind of curated show that is supposed to represent some sort of time or movement, and I can think of a lot of artists who definitely deserve to be in this show more than I do. But I do like the work quite a bit. Paul Chan's video installation "1st Light" is a beautifully hypnotic mediation on movement and shadow, and Hannah Greely's sculpture of a dog napping on a doormat entitled "Muddle" is one of my favorite pieces I've seen in a long time. I could also watch Aïda Ruilova's kooky video loops for hours, and might even consider tattooing one of Devendra Banhart's line drawings on my body. But my favorite piece in the show is Mike Bouchet's "Top Cruise" where he fills an entire room with 1000 plaster busts of Tom Cruise's head.
(Hannah Greely's 'Muddle')
(Mike Bouchet's 'Top Cruise')
Curators and art collectors came up from the city by the bus-load (fancy charter buses, that is) and we were all excited to hear that more venues have been added for the show, including stops in Moscow and Beijing. I am realizing that this show is a pretty big deal. People are calling it a younger, more puckish version of the Whitney Biennial. At 33, I think I am one of the older artists in the show, and most of the artists have some pretty big-time galleries representing them. I am still a little out of place, just pushing my 20 dollar DVDs, but if they keep flying all the artists out to each show than I will be more than satisfied. One really cool thing about the show is that the curators are encouraging us to make new work for the future shows so that the show continues to evolve. I know the TM Sisters are already planning a boot-leg version of the show's catalog and Aaron Young seems to have some gorgeous new painting every five minutes. Maybe I'll have my ghost town project finished in time for China.
More reports to follow...
(Mario and Karla getting ready to rock the mic. photo by Monica Lopez De Victoria)
uncertain americans
Tomorrow I fly to New York for the U.S. opening of the Uncertain States of America show; a big art show of 'emerging American artists' put together by important European art curators Daniel Birnbaum, Gunnar B. Kvaran, and Hans Ulrich Obrist. The show originally opened last fall at the Oslo Museum of Modern Art, and then traveled to the Pompidou in Paris. Now it will be in New York at Bard College before it moves to Iceland and then on to London. The show is pretty cool, made up mostly of visual work and including big name art starts like Jim Drain, Paul Chan, Hannah Greely, Christian Holstad, The TM Sisters, my old pal Miranda July and many others (I think there are 40 of us all together).
It's always a little weird when I get lumped into these "art world" shows. My films play on a projector in a small darkened corner of the museum, looping over and over for the duration of the exhibition. I have mixed feelings about it- I am super excited and honored to be included in the program, but I don't really like having people just walk in and out while my films are showing. My work definitely has a beginning, middle, and end, and they are very much about rhythm and pace. It is kind of heart breaking to watch people peek their heads in a look at my movies for a moment or two and then move on. It's also a little awkward because the art world is all about art product- aka selling stuff. From dealers to collectors to gallery reps, the art world is fueled by the art market. I don't necessarily have a problem with that, but film and video has a hard time fitting in. Painters and sculptors obviously have an 'object' that they can show in a gallery, put a price tag on, and sell for a profit. And there are some video artists who are doing quite well selling limited edition DVDs of their work. But I have always found that a little weird. I guess what it really comes down to is that I am populist; I want my films to be seen by as many people as possible. I have had some pretty funny interactions with people in the art world who have inquired about the availability of my work. They're always a little shocked when I tell them that they can buy my DVD on the internet for 20 bucks, or even rent it from NetFlix if they don't feel like shelling out any money at all. (*But to qualify things, I am actually working on a video installation project that probably will be available only as a limited edition, but that is do more to the presentation aspects of the installation itself (three monitors plus companion materials) than the notion that I think I could raise the value of it by limiting the supply. Check back in the near future about the installation project, but if you have been reading my blog I bet you can guess what the subject it).
But anyhow, I am pretty excited about the Uncertain States of America show, mostly because it has introduced me to some pretty amazing artists who otherwise I probably would have never had the chance to meet. Plus, we had a pretty awesome time at the opening in Oslo last October. Everyone was jet-lagged and disorientated, and we wondered around the town like a pack of flunkey tourists trying to find Viking boats and folk art museums. Hopefully the New York show will be equally as fun, minus the jet lag. I'll send updates soon!
Here we are, the Uncertain Americans, at some fancy dinner party in Oslo back in October of '05.
And here we are having fun with the reflections in the window of the museum.
jimmy carter was right
After reading Jimmy Carter's speeches and policies while he was President in the late 70's, you might think he was some sort of fortune teller with an amazing ability to see into the future. Carter was a man who put solar panels on the White House and created huge tax incentives for solar energy development (both of which were quickly dismantled by the Reagan administration) and was brave enough to suggest that one sure fire way to over come the energy crisis of that time was to simply stop using so much of it. He pushed for less dependency on foreign oil, development of alternative forms of energy, higher fuel efficiency for cars, better public transportation, and for tougher environmental restrictions for emissions. If you read his proposed energy policy that he presented in 1977, it is easy to imagine that had his suggestions been fully implemented, many of the problems of today would have been already solved. "...We must not be selfish or timid if we hope to have a decent world for our children and grandchildren. We simply must balance our demand for energy with our rapidly shrinking resources."
But it is in his campaign against Ronald Reagan in 1980 that you really see Carter's ability to predict the future. For instance, check out this excerpt from his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention:
"The year 2000 is just less than 20 years away, just four Presidential elections after this one. Children born this year will come of age in the 21st century. The time to shape the world of the year 2000 is now. The decisions of the next few years will set our course, perhaps an irreversible course, and the most important of all choices will be made by the American people at the polls less than 3 months from tonight.
The choice could not be more clear nor the consequences more crucial. In one of the futures we can choose, the future that you and I have been building together, I see security and justice and peace. I see a future of economic security-security that will come from tapping our own great resources of oil and gas, coal and sunlight... I see a future of justice--the justice of good jobs, decent health care, quality education, a full opportunity for all people regardless of color or language or religion; the simple human justice of equal rights for all men and for all women, guaranteed equal rights at last under the Constitution of the United States of America. And I see a future of peace--a peace born of wisdom and based on a fairness toward all countries of the world, a peace guaranteed both by American military strength and by American moral strength as well.
But there is another possible future. In that other future I see despair--despair of millions who would struggle for equal opportunity and a better life and struggle alone. And I see surrender--the surrender of our energy future to the merchants of oil, the surrender of our economic future to a bizarre program of massive tax cuts for the rich, service cuts for the poor, and massive inflation for everyone."
Jimmy Carter is a president who deserved to be re-elected. He was a realist who tried to solve problems, not just gloss over them with temporary fixes. Our current President recently suggested that America's problem with high fuel prices was caused by the lack of a national energy policy, and pointed fingers at the Clinton administration in a recent speech; "This is a problem that's been a long time in coming. We haven't had an energy policy in this country. 10 years ago, if we'd had an energy strategy, we would be able to diversify away from foreign dependence, but we haven't done that. And now we find ourselves in the fix we're in."
But clearly Bush had forgotten (or was never aware of in the first place) everything that Carter tried to do back in the 70s. I guess that is just too long ago for a President (or the mainstream media for that matter) to remember.
al gore, please be my president
Okay, I have to preface this: I voted for Ralph Nader in the 2000 Presidential Election. I even donated a small amount of time and money to his campaign. Now I'll stand by my vote in the sense that I think Ralph Nader is a very important voice in our political spectrum, but what I failed to realize back then was how vastly different Al Gore was from GW Bush. It wasn't that I didn't want Al to win, I thought he was a shoe-in. My dream scenario was that Nader would get 5 or more percentage points but Gore would win the over-all election and leave Bush in the dust. My dream scenario did come true here in the great state of Oregon, but nationally things obviously went a different way. Had I been one of the 97,000+ people who voted for Nader in Florida, only to find out later that Bush won by less than 300 votes, I would be pretty bummed out.
But since that dreadful fall of 2000, the vast differences between Al and George have become clear as day, and after seeing the movie An Inconvenient Truth I honestly have to admit that I'd be hard pressed to vote for any political candidate over Gore, regardless of the scenario (sorry Ralph). Gore has been pretty adamant lately that he has no plans to re-enter politics, but I truly hope he changes his mind. Watching his presentation brought tears to my eyes- it is clear that he has a deep understanding and profound concern for environmental issues, but what was even more powerful was how he framed the debate as really being about greed versus moral values.
It has been a long time since I have seen a political figure speak wisely and frankly about problems that face our society, but perhaps it is because Gore is no longer a political figure that he is able to do so. You might have to go all the way back to Jimmy Carter's 1980 speech at the DNC when he described an American future under the Reagan administration as a "surrender of our energy future to the merchants of oil" to find a politician taking on tough issues with a sense of realism. Political campaigns tend to dumb things down to the lowest denominator. I liked John Kerry just fine, but I remember at a debate or two he'd look in the camera with a clinched fist and promise that he'd hunt down Osama Bin Laden and kill him. Or back in '88 when Michael Dukakis drove a tank in a TV commercial to suggest he wasn't weak on defense. It was that same sort of campaign dumbness that drove many progressives to vote for Nader over Gore. But now I think we are seeing a real version of Al that had been previously obscured by campaign organizers and 20 second sound bites. This is a guy who gets it; who understands that we face some serious problems, and that turning our back on them would be a devastating economic and moral failure.
So Al, I doubt you read my blog, but just incase you do, thank you for doing what you do, and PLEASE RUN FOR PRESIDENT! (and for everyone else, I implore you to get your butts to the movie theater and see An Inconvenient Truth)
hard core efficiency (or lack there of)
I always strive for efficiency, especially when it comes to mundane things that I have to wait for. For example, every morning I put the water on for my coffee as I am walking back to my bedroom after taking a shower. It takes a few minutes for the water to boil, so I might as well be getting dressed and putting my shoes on while the water is rising to 212 degrees fahrenheit. Once dressed, I'll swing through my office on the way back to the kitchen to turn on my computer. The computer takes a couple minutes to fully boot-up, so best to have that happening while I'm getting breakfast ready. Back in the kitchen, I prepare the coffee maker (a French Press) with fresh coffee grounds and then I get my cereal bowl in the "ready position" by pouring the in the cereal and slicing a banana on top of it. The goal here is to get the coffee press prepped and the cereal ready to go and have the carton of rice milk standing by all before the water comes to a boil (but you can't pour the rice milk on too soon or the cereal will get soggy). Once the water comes to a boil it gets poured over the coffee grounds in the French Press and then has to steep for four minutes. Once the coffee is steeping, I'll swing back into my office to open my e-mail and Internet software. It takes about 30 seconds for those to open, and during that time I head back to the kitchen to prepare my coffee mug and arrange any final fixings for my bowl of cereal. I'll pour about an inch of rice milk into my coffee mug, and then run back into the office to hit the 'get mail' button so that the computer can start downloading my mail. I get a lot of spam, and the first e-mail check of the day can take my computer a minute or so to download everything and sort out what is spam and what isn't, so I get that going and then head back into the kitchen where the coffee is about 30 seconds away from being ready. I'll pour the rice milk over my cereal, put the carton back in the fridge, and then press the plunger down on the coffee. Once that seems settled I will then pour the coffee into my mug, grab my cereal bowl and head into my office, sit at my desk, and start reading my email while I eat breakfast.
The overall goal is to get from the shower to my desk (with breakfast in hand and email fully downloaded) in the exact amount of time it takes to boil a pot of water and steep the coffee. If the water is boiling but the coffee press isn't ready for it, it's a failure. If the coffee is in the mug but the computer isn't booted up, it's a failure. And if everything goes well but the cereal is soggy, than that's the worst failure of them all. Sometimes if I'm really in the zone, say just before a film shoot or the pdx fest, I'll do all my coffee+computer+cereal prepping while I have a phone at my ear. Now that's hard-core efficiency.
Unfortunately I haven't really figured out how to incorporate this hard-core-efficiency into the rest of my day. Once I get to my desk I lazily read through my emails and then spend an hour reading through the New York Times, The Oregonian, and of course Urban Honking websites. I'll then slowly shift into work mode and download the day's worth of Peripheral Produce orders and spend an hour or two stuffing DVDs into bubble mailers and doing paper work. Then I'll head down town to the Post Office to ship them off and check the Peripheral Produce PO Box, and do any other downtown errands that need doing like going to the bank or visiting the office supply store. By then it's usually lunchtime so I'll pick something up at The Strip (The Strip, for those who are not in the know, is Portland's hottest hot spot for fine lunchtime dining. It's the row of food carts that sit in a parking lot along 5th avenue between SW Oak and Stark Streets where there must be at least 15 carts, with varieties ranging from Thai to Indian to Mexican to Vegan to Vietnamese to Philadelphian (cheese steaks, that is)). From there I will head back home and spend the afternoon and evening working on what ever current project is at hand, but this is where things get really sketchy and not so efficient. Hopefully I'll spend the rest of the day working on my screenplay, writing proposals for music videos, working on my video installation, or actively engaging some other new project. But all these projects tend to be elusive, especially when the sun is shining and there's interesting people to go get coffee or drinks with. I need to get a new draft of the script finished by the end of the month and the installation doesn't go up until February, but the sun will set in just a few hours and it's hard to justify not putting a priority on it.
I guess this is what I get for not being efficient enough back when it was raining all the time.
s.w.g. continued/day two
There are some actions that can often be interpreted as an open invitation for communication. For instance, you can stand on a street corner for hours and nobody will talk to you, but if you stand there reading a map someone will probably approach you within minutes to ask if you are lost. Walking a cute dog has similar effects- people barely even glance at me if I am just walking around by myself, but I used to have a roommate who had a dog that I would take for walks, and on those walks it seemed like people couldn't help but to talk to me.
Entering the world with a movie camera is also a similar action, but in a different sort of way. Having a camera and filming something makes the statement that you are interested, and many attention starved people see that as an opportunity to tell you why you should be interested in them. Sometimes they are just really lonely, sometimes they're just really drunk, and sometimes they are totally creepy. But often times they are truly interesting, or at least truly weird in the good sort of way. Like an 80-year-old guy named Easton DeHart I meet in Houma, Louisiana a couple years when I was down there shooting my doc 'American Nutria'. Easton was a retired marine who now served as the town's Alligator Nuisance wrangler. He was known as the "Alligator Man" and if you ever woke up one morning and found an alligator in your swimming pool, Easton was the man you would call. I met him while I was filming some trappers trap Nutria, and he invited me to spend a day with him looking for alligators. We checked the sewage treatment plant, the city dump, and all the places he regularly gets called to go to. We never actually found any alligators, but he talked all day about how you catch them and what you do with them after you catch them. He was an 80 year old who seemed more like a 13 year old, and I almost decided to just make a movie about him and forget about the Nutria.
But anyhow, here I am now out in Eastern Oregon, driving around in search of the perfect ghost town. This morning I stopped in a little town called Hardman, which was a bustling farming town in the late 1800s but today has more abandoned buildings than residents. There are four very old store-front type buildings on the main street, three of which have nearly caved in on themselves while the forth has had just enough renovation to keep it standing and serve as an occasional community center. There are probably twenty houses, half of which are abandoned and decayed beyond the point of return, and I'll guess that there are about 20 residents or so still living in the town.
I parked the Red Baron and got out to look around. It was a little creepy - the town felt completely vacant, but a few of the houses and trailers clearly looked lived in, even though they were in really bad shape. It was hard to tell what was a driveway and what was a public street, and it felt like I just stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone.
The quiet morning was broken by a couple dogs that started barking at me, so I figured I might as well just reveal myself and set up the tripod and let anyone who cared know that I was just some city slicker with a fancy camera here to take some pictures. I'm sure they've seen the likes of me before, as these old weathered buildings attract guys like me the same way bees are attracted to BBQ sauce. I walked around and set up for a couple different shots and started to feel more comfortable when suddenly I heard someone calling out from just behind me. I turned around and saw a little old man in the yard behind me motioning to me to come closer. It was pretty windy and hard to hear what he was saying, but it was apparent he wanted me to come in. I walked through the gate and he started talking about how he'd bet me 100 nickels that he had something that 'I ain't ever seen before' and that I needed to come in his house to check out the wood burning stove in his bathroom. I followed him inside the old, poorly maintained house, and sure enough there was a wood-burning stove in his bathroom. It was true that I had never seen a wood-burning stove in a bathroom before, or if I had I certainly hadn't thought about it. The old man introduced himself as Mel, and while it was very difficult to understand what he was saying I made out that he was 74 years old and had lived in Hardman for the past thirty some years. He spoke in a loud, almost shouting voice, and then as if he had been reading my blog, he told me that Hardman was a ghost town, and since he lived there that made him a ghost. I told him that in that case I better take his picture.
I wasn't sure, but he seemed to be speaking in rhyme, or at least have little poetic outbursts that ended like songs. He motioned me to follow him into the living room where he wanted to show me a picture of himself when he was younger, so I followed him into the living room where a Fear Factor re-run was playing on an old television set that was placed in front of an old tattered couch. The TV reception was bad, and on the wall behind the couch were several framed letters and pictures including a painted portrait of Mel wearing an Army helmet and looking about 30 years old. He talked about how he served in Korea, but then started talking about the time he worked at the animal shelter in Boardman (a bigger town probably 40 miles away). He seemed to be still talking in rhyme, almost like he was a 74-year-old version of Eminem, and by now I realized he was pretty drunk. He took his spot on the couch and filled up his glass with the last drops from a jug of Boones he had stashed under the coffee table while he explained how he preferred whiskey. Mel continued to point to things in his house, like a giant pair of bull horns mounted on the wall, and tell me all about them, but I could tell I needed to get out of there quick. Crazy old men who live out in the middle of nowhere are always really interesting, but if you let them talk long enough they'll often start to reveal a whole lot of information you just don't want to hear. Once the really bad sexist or racial epitaphs start flying I take that as my cue to get a move on.
I stayed for a few more minutes and then announced that I should hit the road. Mel wished me luck and told me to come back and visit again sometime. I shot a little more film in Hardman, but the high-noon sun was approaching and the light started getting a little too flat, so I fired up the ol' Red Barron and headed off towards the John Day river to make some lunch and maybe go for a plunge.
