Connections: John Cage

When an unfamiliar name pops up, I may or may not pay attention, unless it happens twice in a day. John Cage was big at the Guggenheim's The Third Mind and then at Merce Cunningham's Nearly Ninety at BAM, where the program noted that the Merce Cunningham Dance Company was partly founded by John Cage. I started to pay attention.

John Cage, Where R = Ryoanji (3R/17), 1992

John Cage with Pianist David Tudor

Yes, the same man is connected with the circle drawings above at the Guggenheim, the photo on the left, the Fluxus movement, Merce Cunningham, and silent music. I was surprised by the collaboration of Sonic Youth and Merce Cunningham, but apparently Sonic Youth, the experimental rock band, are fans of Cage who included 3 of his pieces on their album SYR4.

John Cage (1912-1992) was primarily a composer, albeit one more fascinated by sounds in themselves than creating structure. His most (in)famous piece, 4'33, consists of three movements of silence, signaled by the pianist opening and shutting the piano. The idea behind it is to open you the the noises in the room, the rustling, the whispers, sounds from the street. Many people at the original performance did not appreciate this.

Cage is now a well-established cutural influence, whose Bhuddist-inspired work left a huge-impression on American art. As the Guggenheim describes it, "Cage staunchly refused to create art in keeping with expectations, and all his creative endeavors, including dance, music, and visual art, were revolutionary. His Lecture on Nothing began with his statement, “I am here and there is nothing to say.” His concerts were even more challenging."

John Cage, Not Wanting to Say Anything About Marcel, 1969

John Cage's Experimental Composition classes in the 1950s have become legendary as an American source of Fluxus, the international network of artists, composers, and designers. In addition to music, Cage created works of visual art, like the one above referring to his old chess partner Marcel Duchamp, and writings. Cage was also a life-long mushroom collector.

Ravels in Review Friday

You! No—It’s too late now. I’ve seen you, and now you have a chance to see the workings on a highly critical (or is it high and critical?) mind at work. Read on, for my ravels in review of this week.

There was an artist toeing the line between beautiful and ugly that I discovered through an add, Club Guggenheim did not rock, insight into where to get your art gossip, Reena Spualings confirmed not a fake by said art gossip, and yoga invaded MoMA. Whew--what a busy week!

But most particularly, read my post on painter Marlene Dumas’s retrospective now at MoMA here in New York. This artist is generating reactions that range from rave (LA Times) to snide (he at New York Magazine who shall remain nameless ) to "warm" (New York Times) to tentative (mine). What do you think of her work? Why does she create such ambivalence?

Guggenheim as a Club

A two-for-one Friday night will satisfy your clubbing and art craves—or at least the Guggenheim Museum in NYC attempts to do so one Friday night a month. This past Friday there was blaring music, people dressed to the nines, and The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplate Asia. How could this great combination go wrong?

• By being a well-lit, lame music club experience with only sporadic fits of dancing


• By displaying an underwhelming exhibition
  

The crowded atrium was filled with people pushing to get to the round bar in the center, a space that should have been left open for dancing. It was as bright as day, which hardly lowers people’s dancing exhibition. In addition, the Guggenheim, unlike the Museum of Natural History, didn’t hire a good DJ. Pure 80s cheese could have topped their mediocre mix and been much more fun. That said, there were drinks and not a few people were inspired to bust a move from time to time. It had the potential to be a great party but couldn't live up to it.

Many of the pieces in the Chinese-influences on American Modernism show required more thought than the drinks inspired. The opening piece when you first ascend the ramp is stunning, a huge room of gold flaky paint called The Death of James Lee Byars. Continuing on, Minimalist canvases of white and stripes required a more subdued attention. I would have appreciated more information on the selected works, and the connection to Asian art.

Despite being one of many museums in New York City that offer late Friday nights, with drinks and dancing, the Guggenheim still has no problem filling Wright’s impressive interior spiral, and the mix of people (and outfits!) was a joy to behold. On the other hand, for $25 dollars you could go to a real club. For nothing, you can go to most major New York City museums, as they have sponsored free or pay-what-you-wish Friday nights.

Am I glad I went? Yes. Would I go again? No, not without a specific reason.

Go Guggenhiem Tonight

I have a cold, and am lame, etc, so I will not be attending, but this day- (or night-) long free event at the Guggenhiem is jampacked with cool stuff. So if you're free all tonight, or tommorow all day, definitely head out to the 24 Hour Program on the Concept of Time, based off the theanyspacewhatever exhibition.

"Comprising interviews, lectures, discussions, and performances, the 24-hour event will function as a platform for the presentation and exchange of ideas, research, and projects across a wide spectrum of fields, engaging diverse participants in vibrant, mutually illuminating dialogue. Modeled on the renowned thematic "marathons" conceived by Hans Ulrich Obrist, Co-Director of Exhibitions and Programmes and Director of International Projects at the Serpentine Gallery in London, this New York-based program organized by Guggenheim Chief Curator Nancy Spector will be conducted as a strenuous, experimental exercise geared toward both the academic and the general, art-going public."

New York City Art Museums on the Cheap

I can claim expertise in few things, but how to view art on the cheap is something at which I excel. With the right timing and a flexible schedule, you don't need to pay oodles to see the museums of New York City.

Below are the how-tos to seeing some of the greatest works of art in the world. Whatever your taste, these eight New York City museums are easy and fun to visit on the cheap. Note that listed prices are for adults; admission for students, seniors, and children often has a discounted price.

First, let's hit the "majors," which should be part of any cultural enthusiast's outings in New York City.

1. The Metropolitan Museum of Art (1000 Fifth Avenue)
The Met lists a suggested ticket price of $20 dollars. A suggestion is not a price. They accept as little as a dollar, and then you're in to see this behemoth's grand cultural offerings, ranging from Egyptian pyramids to African reed boats to European portraits. They also have constantly changing exhibitions, which are included with the price of admission.

2. The Museum of Modern Art (11 West 53 Street)
MoMA will cost you $20 as well, unless you go on Friday nights. On Fridays between 4 pm and 8 pm, Target hosts a free night at the preeminent museum of modern and contemporary art. An additional great secret: movie tickets are free with admission. I've picked up tickets for an 8:30 film, and seen everything from John Waters' Pink Flamingos to classics of German avant-garde cinema. Beware the crowds, however.

3. Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum (1071 Fifth Avenue)
Is seeing the interior of the newly-restored Frank Lloyd Wright building worth $18? The Guggenheim certainly has great exhibitions of contemporary art right now. However, this private museum is not cheapskate-friendly. If you're going to pay, you should check their events calendar to make sure you time your trip to coincide with one of their lectures or, even better, go to their Art after Dark program where they have DJs until 1 am.

These big stars are definitely worth a visit, but the city has other outstanding art museums that are well worth your time.

4. Whitney Museum of American Art (945 Madison Avenue)
Fifteen dollars will give you access to the Whitney's collection of 20th century American art and exhibitions of American artists past and present, such as Kara Walker and William Eggleston. Like so many on this list, the Whitney also has a Friday night pay-what-you-wish program from 6 to 9 pm. The Whitney goes a step beyond the other museums by making the free night a fun event with live music and other innovative performance arts.

5. The Frick Collection (1 E. 70th St.)
Admittedly a narrow time slot, but from 11 am to 1 pm on Sundays, you can visit the Frick for free instead of for $15. Often overlooked compared to bigger museums, this little jewel of a collection has remained in the mansion of turn-of the century business tycoon Henry Frick since he bequeathed it to the public. It contains masterpieces of Western painting and sculpture.

6. New Musuem (235 Bowery)
The New Museum houses contemporary art in a brand new building downtown, making it a great stop if you're in the area. At $12, this is a relatively cheap dose of contemporary culture. However, if you're in the the area on a Thursday night, stop in between 7 and 10 pm to mingle with a young, hipster crowd and see the works of artists artists such as Elizabeth Peyton and Mary Hielman.

7. Brooklyn Museum of Art (200 Eastern Parkway)
This museum has a diverse collection and is easily accessible from Manhattan. The suggested donation price is $8. As I mentioned in regard to the Met, a suggestion means you can pay what you wish. In addition, on the first Saturday of the month, BMA hosts a free night of art and entertainment, which often includes dancing to live music in its atrium. It exhibits art from across the globe, and has an excellent center of feminist art that features Judith Chicago's Dinner Party.

8. American Folk Art Museum (45 West 53rd Street)
Admission is a reasonable $9 to see this under-visited museum's collection of paintings and textiles from America's earliest days to the present. However, if you visit on Friday evenings between 5:30 and 7:30 pm you can listen to live music in the atrium and explore the galleries for free.

If you want your culture fix cheap, New York City offers many options at its museums. In addition, galleries have openings throughout the year, where new works of an artists are shown on an intimate scale. These free openings are fun not only because you can see new works, but because of free drinks and great people-watching. Artcards is a great site to check for new openings and events. With a little forethought, you can see all the art you want on a reasonable budget.

(Originally published December 07, 2008 in Blogcritics Magazine)

Review: Catherine Opie Retrospective at the Guggenhiem

Catherine Opie's shocking and raw portraits of herself and friends from the early 90s are what came to mind when I heard of this show on view until January 7, 2009 at the Guggenhiem New York. Her oeuvre on view at the Guggenheim not only disabused me of any notion of rawness in her work, but also opened me eyes to the extent of her subject matter. This classically American photographer came into the limelight for portraying herself and her friends as gender bending homosexuals into body modification and sadomasochism. Beyond horror or titillation, she exposed an underrepresented class of people with political intent and humanity while exploring notions of home and family.

Home and family seem stereotypically female in a way that Opie is not often considered, given her non-traditional presentations of gender. The people we see in her works are homosexual couples posed in traditional ways, of men dressed as women and vice-versa, and of tattoos and piercings that look deliberately painful. Her presentation of them staring at the camera with a direct gaze is agressive in a simple way. Yet stereotypically female too is the self-portrait of the artist holding her baby above, similar to a Madonna and Child scene, except that the luminosity and realism exposes her scarred breast where the word "Pervert" was carved for a previous portrait.

The rawness I anticipated in her work is actually a direct, at times aggressive portrayl of who people are with no apologies. She tends to present her subject--be it a person or a bridge-alone. Her portraits share the quality of formal compisition with the gaze direcly at the viewers, as well as a sense of art historical reference. For example, Opie was influnced by Hans Holbein's use of luminous color and worldly references for a series of portraits of friends. Opie often uses ornately patterned fabrics as a background. The contrived aspect of scenes and formal aspect to portraiture lend her work a theatrical quality that is in every sense neo-Baroque.


She combines the visually gorgeous with the horrific. Two clear example are the self-portraits that involve cutting into her flesh, in which she intends to shock her message into the consciousness of America. In the first one, pictured above, she takes on what it means to be a lesbian in America in the 90s, by putting a social label on her body. The other work, showing the artist's back cut in a childlike pattern of two figures holding hands in front of a house. The figures are two girls. This is how Opie communicates about gender and family and home--how sterio-typically domestic, no?

No, Opie is much more than that. I felt her most moving work was done of a friend and performance artist to the performance artist Ron Athey, who had recently been diagnosed with HIV. In 2000, they createded large-format Polaroids to create larger than life images of him based on past performance pieces. One strong and moving work is a lovely composition in which the precarious balance between life and death is presented as the artist lying on a bed of gold with an upraised arm from which hangs a series of neeedles. As image reproduction is severly kept in check, you would have to go to the Guggenheim to see it.

Series of highways, series of portraits, series of homes, series of couples/homes across the United States, Opie hammers home her message through repetition, as if demanding we look not at one individual, but many. The use of series really helps her explore subjects in a more illuminating and thoughtful way--otherwise easy to dismiss as a fluke. She presents a body of examples and says this is America. The importance of Opie's work is in it's messages about people, and, in that way, her photography is as American and compassionate as Walker Evans' photographs during the depression were.

Walls and Streets of Art, Relationally-speaking

That imperious-sounding term 'relational aesthetics' might have been first introduced to me at theanyspacewhatever exhibition at the Guggenheim, as I reviewed here, but like so many things one jives with, I've started to find it everywhere. It's not exactly that the exhibition so sensitized me to my surroundings that every piece of litter on New York's streets makes me want to sing hallelujahs, although relational aesthetics does strive for that effect. Rather, I see in work I have already been following the same aesthetic tools of surprise, fun, ephemerality, untraditional medium, and irreverence, and fueling their creation the hopeful belief that the experience of life is beautiful.

The Wooster Collective, whose blog I follow, is "dedicated to showcasing and celebrating ephemeral art placed on streets" thus taking relational aesthetics one step further than using the exhibition as a medium, as street art creates a medium out of bare concrete and brick. The art it showcases is submitted from all over, so like the Guggenheim's group show it is an egalitarian effort, and shows the range of diversity, from a bum's hut in Poland to this Election Day poster.

Had they been punnier, they would have said "Chews with your gum," but not everybody can be as clever as me.

Street art fits into the category of relational aesthetics. An article on the founders of Wooster Collective from 2006 discusses the tenants of street art much line relational aesthetics:

1. Location...A work of street art reclaims the public space and the best street art has a context, builds a relationship with its environment, dialogs with the city...
2. Surprise and delight: the works tap into our emotions and we get that WTF ??? moment...
3. Have something to say...the best pieces do not necessarily make a strong political statement but they will make you see the city under a different light. Artists let
passersby make their own interpretation of the work...

'Relational aesthetics', then, is a way of taking art out of frames and putting it in different, often surprising, relations to the viewer, and how it affects one's perception of the object, which is not necessarily an object but a wall or hole that makes you reevaluate your surroundings. The blog form is suited to street art; it constantly changes rather than being fixed, is fragmentary rather than whole, and both mediums originated outside mainstream channels of expression and are becoming more recognized.

Another blog I follow, Art is Everywhere, tries to document the beauty of everyday objects by taking things apart, rearranging them, and photographing them for the web. It tries to resensitize people to their surroundings, and thus to the beauty and charm of life. As it's states:

Observing the surrounds from different points of view can change the perception
of the reality. Among the endless possible points of view, we can find the one
more near to the beauty: that is to make art. Why should everybody make art? To
seek for the beautiful in the daily things it undoubtedly helps us to...live
better.

And that's a lovely sentiment to be surprised with, in anyspace anywhere.

Review: theanyspacewhatever at the Guggenhiem

I groaned along with a few other people when the black and white film we were watching on beanbag chairs stopped in the middle, apparently on a continuous loop that never finishes. Since I had finished my free espresso, I got up and someone else jetted into my seat. The espresso bar's line had died down, and people mingled up and down the white ramp. Where was I?

--the not-so-stuffy Guggenheim. The Guggenheim in New York has taken on a playful approach this fall, with an "invitation to a core group of these artists—Angela Bulloch, Maurizio Cattelan, Liam Gillick, Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Douglas Gordon, Carsten Höller, Pierre Huyghe, Jorge Pardo, Philippe Parreno, and Rirkrit Tiravanija—to collectively formulate a scenario for an exhibition," according to its press release for theanyspacewhatever.

'Relational aesthetics' makes an intimidating phrase. However, these artists, who take the exhibition as a medium, have turned the Guggenheim into a humanized and fun space where suddenly everything starts to look like art. The museum has been transformed into one sprawling art playground, where the whole experience becomes a user-friendly and interrelated series of experiences as one ascends the circular ramp. It starts with the marquee of flashing lights at the entrance, but this theatrical experience is one where the viewer is the star. The bare white spiral of the interior is punctuated with a plethora of details that humanize the space. On walking in, one looks up to see a glittering starry sky and down to see a Pinocchio submerged face down in the museum's small pool. What's the connection between these works? Only that they share the space with each other, created to work together to draw the viewer into the space, and make them more aware of their surroundings.

It works on you subtly at first, but becomes more and more interesting. I took my shoes off to watch part of a documentary on some cushions next to one of the TVs on the first level, thereby making myself part of the exhibition as I discovered when girls took photos of the scene, and me, from the balcony above. Associative chains of black words seemed randomly typed both in placement and meaning at first. They never take a structured narrative, but one becomes more in tune with a generalized significance. The sound of falling water immerses the viewer as he walks through a bare white tunnel, then he is lost in a brown cardboard maze with holes that you can peep through and art embedded where you are least likely to look. After a set of hotel bedroom furniture on a round glass platform, you arrive at my favorite part, the Illy espresso bar next to the beanbag movie theatre. Eventually, you reach a sign at the top telling you you have reached the end, and it really feels like a you have completed a journey.
This process-oriented way of experiencing the exhibit made me feel like a child, uninhibited. This is the kind of space where you can touch the art, drink the art, and walking through it makes you a part of the art. These ordinary objects, beds or words like half-formed thoughts, could be found outside the Guggenheim's walls. The New York Times reported that, "For a price and with a reservation, up to two people can spend the night. (Like so many must-dos in New York, it is sold out.)" Does it get more interactive than that?

It will be up until January 7, 2009, and in conjunction with the Catherine Opie retrospective also being exhibited, makes for a fun day at the museum. Instead of being boxed into to rectangular room and seeing things in gilt frames, you see Frank Gehry's design fully exploited in this spiral-patterned fun house. Instead of being told where to look and how, you are let loose to participate and peek where you like. How refreshing.

Guggenhiem Bilboa, pass that Cy Twombly to NYC!

Cy Twombly's major retrospective is going up at the Guggenheim Bilbao. According to ArtInfo, this retrospective also coincides with the artist's 80th birthday. So if the Gugg. Bilbao has this great exhibition going up tomorrow, NYC should be getting it soon, right? Let's hope so. This collection of almost 100 of Twombley's works would make my year.

This exhibition will highlight the series 9 Discourses pictured above, as well as other large scale series he has done, such as Le Quattro Stagione, and sculptures and drawings.

Invierno, Quattro Stagioni (1993-94)

Twombley, a fellow Southerner, is one of my favorite contemporary artist. His work is evocative and painterly in a smearing, emotional kind of way that still manages to impress with restraint and control. Le Quattro Stagione never fails to leave me spellbound, from when I first saw it at the Tate Modern to when I rediscovered it in the atrium of MoMA here in New York. At least now I know where it went.

In their press release for the exhibition, the museum states, "Committed to collecting Twombly’s work, the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao has recently acquired the series Nine Discourses on Commodus (1963). The work around which the exhibition is designed, it consists of nine distinct canvases and was the first of the artist’s series to be conceived as a unified whole....[it] offers a closer look at the spirit of this marvellous artist who, as exhibition curator Carmen Giménez points out, 'not only irradiates a fascinating personal magic, but has also taken us to the most intricate frontiers of contemporary painting.'"

The below painting, from his 2007 show Blooming a scattering of blossoms and other things that I tragically missed at Gagosian, due primarily to Gagosian confusing me with the multiple addresses that make up his empire, has not been as well received in some circles. However, some found it particularly enticing. One, for example, was the French woman arrested for kissing it, later claiming "It was an act of love." Untitled