A couple days ago I was hanging out with my friend David Gatten in the Red Hook neighborhood of Brooklyn. David is a filmmaker who moved to Red Hook back in February when he found a studio space in an old, converted luggage factory. Before that he had been living in Ithaca, NY where he taught at Ithaca College.
David’s films remind me of an obsessive butterfly collection or exquisite hope chest: they serve as poetic documents that detail forgotten places and ideas, reworking them into a precise visual experience. He is very interested in the printed word, and watching his films involve reading lots of on-screen-text. There is a very historical quality to his films, but in a very personal, humble sort of way. When it comes to filmmaking, David is totally hard-core. He works entirely in film, using antiquated technologies and discontinued film stocks. His films are usually silent, or “without sound” as he likes to put it, and often take him several years or more to complete. He has turned his bathroom into a darkroom and has built his own optical printer. David doesn’t transfer his films to video, not necessarily because he has anything against video, but because the detail in his films is so fine that they are simply lost in the transfer, and he’d rather just patiently let his films be seen on film instead of rushing to distribute them on video to mass audiences. He has also been rather successful with his work. He has twice been exhibited in the Whitney Biennial (and is included in their permanent collection) and recently received a Guggenheim Fellowship. His films have screened in art museums and film festivals around the world, and he even came in second place at the 2006 Peripheral Produce Invitational!

David and I have been friends for a while, and he knows I have a fondness for tugboats, industrial areas, and abandoned factories, so he already had a walking tour planned for my arrival. We packed up the Bolex and a couple cans of film and hit the streets. We found abandoned sugar refineries, mysterious window displays, tugboats triumphantly skirting past the Statue of Liberty, warehouses dating back to the Civil War, and Key Lime Pies. Red Hook is in the southwestern tip of Brooklyn, directly below Manhattan and just east of Staten Island. Long time residents like to point out that Red Hook is the only part of the country that gets to see the Statue of Liberties face, while the rest of the country only gets her ass. We explored the abandoned sugar refinery and then shot some film of the mysterious window display, before finally purchasing a 10″ Key Lime Pie for us to eat later.



It was interesting walking around Red Hook. It’s an old industrial area and working class neighborhood that is just on the cusp of re-development and gentrification. It’s not entirely there yet, but you can sense it coming. The empty warehouses, the abandoned factories, and the row houses lived in by low-income families all sit perched like an old growth forest that is slowly being surrounded by lumberjacks. It is just a matter of time before everything changes.
In the fall of 2004, David brought me to Ithaca College to lecture and show my films. I was immediately taken with how informed and engaged his students were; it was clear that he was assembling a small army of bright young experimental filmmakers. I have visited at least 50 schools and universities as a guest lecturer over the past few years, and I must say that I have never been to a campus where the students where more interested and enthusiastic about experimental film. It was clear that David was an amazing teacher, not only teaching the art of film, but instilling a true wonder and sense of community to his students. The visit made me want to be a student again. One of my proudest moments as a filmmaker was at the 2005 Ann Arbor Film Festival, where several of David’s students showed up wearing shirts that featured stills from my films. It took me a while to figure out what was going on, and then suddenly realized they had made their own Matt McCormick T-Shirts.

After walking around and exploring Red Hook, we headed back to David’s place eager to get into the pie. If David was an animal he thinks he’d probably be a Bipes Biporus, but lately he said he has been feeling more like a Numbat. His father is a retired biologist and his mother serves on the City Council of Greensboro South Carolina. David was diagnosed with cancer just over a year ago, but he totally beat it with the aid of a juicer and a few really good friends. He is currently working on several projects, including the nearly completed first part of a new series entitled “Films For Invisible Ink” which promises lots of white space, a few words, and a few rectangular shapes coming in and out of focus. He is also working on a project based on Leonardo Da Vinci’s (or was it Decaprio’s?) theory that an hour could be divided into 3000 equal measures. In the film, David is dividing one hour of film into 3000 separate shots, each lasting exactly 29 frames (about 1.2 seconds). The 3000 images and sounds will be culled from footage he has been shooting since 1994 and arranged in sections dating to particular times and places of his past. We wondered if we could divide the Key Lime Pie into 3000 equal parts, but then decided it would be better to just eat it.

We were able to eat about two thirds of the pie, but just didn’t have the strength to take it all the way. We struggled with some mathematical formulas, trying to figure out if we could have eaten an entire 8″ pie (the one we purchased was 10″) but quickly realized that the math was far too difficult. The sugar in the pie made it a little hard to sleep that night, but it was well worth it.

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 a new video that we feel may be good for the show. it represents ideas of isolation, regret, and inner turmoil. . please download the vid and play in loop mode. maybe we can show it in iceland….
edger and taft check to see what’s in the fridge:

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)

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)

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.