Decked Out

It’s here! DECAHEDRON is now live!

June 2021 marks the 10th anniversary of Artists on the Lam. Celebrate with us!

It was a decade ago yesterday that I published my first post on what would later be voted “Best Arts Blog” in the Chicago Reader’s Best of Chicago issue (read more about that in the previous post). As part of the celebration, I’ve curated an international exhibition (read more about this in the artist announcement post).

More about the curatorial process for this show that I didn’t mention in those posts: I’m likening it to an episodic TV series where you wander the land embarking on different adventures and meeting different characters, and then in the end you go back and revisit all your old friends and ask them to be part of your heist. Past, present, and future are all intertwined.

The result? 74 artists, with over 350 works of art.

View the exhibition at the following links: the main page and the artists page (click on each artist to enjoy their art and their words). Most of the pieces are available for purchase (and I was literally in the middle of formatting this post when a painting was already sold).

Celebrating 10 years of:

interaction; collaboration; making art as accessible as possible; proving that art is for everyone; championing local artists while channeling global perspectives; shenanigans; worldwide adventures; saying things everyone thinks but doesn’t say out loud; making messes; winging it; figuring it out; the same pair of sneakers; irreverence; puns; so many puns; open calls; giving emerging artists their first ever shows; refusing to use artspeak; not taking ourselves too seriously; troublemaking; optimism / earnestness / hope; leaving pretension at the door; getting people to actually look at the art; getting people to have fun with art and with each other; getting people to see the world anew; building relationships between artists and viewers; building relationships; building community; bringing people joy; a breath of fresh air; being able to touch the art; people coming into a gallery and not feeling intimidated; teaching; assuring people that they do, in fact, “get” art; showing that there’s nothing to “get”; invoking childlike wonder; connection, and not the schmoozing kind; making sure everyone feels welcome; rejecting cliques; breaking the rules; breaking barriers; bridging the spaces between us; standing out; not paying attention to trends; making our own; substance over style; quality over popularity; quantity; cramming an entire biennial’s worth of artists into one room; cramming as many viewers as possible into one room; helping visitors “hone their art appreciation skills”; giving visitors the “opportunity to explore their own interests and gain a better understanding of the kind of art they enjoy and why”; being worth the wait; being down-to-earth; showing there’s an abundance of culture in the Midwest; every medium you can think of; every art form you can think of; artists spanning the widest range of backgrounds, ages, and experience levels; talent; the best people you’ve never heard of yet; exploring and showcasing the underground; “shaking things up” / “rocking the art world” / “making waves”; changing the game; truly new experiences; being truly independent; perhaps being too DIY [but]; knowing no one is an island; using word of mouth; being unconventional; play; passion; constant growth; and art.

Again, thank you.

Here’s to the next 10 years!

(Pictured: A few photos from the opening reception of 2012’s acclaimed I CAN DO THAT, voted “Best Art Exhibit” in the 20th anniversary edition of NewCity’s Best of Chicago issue)

Leave a birthday message!

What’s your favorite Artists on the Lam memory? Perhaps you had a moment of transcendence at one of our interactive shows, or shared a spontaneous experience with a fellow visitor, or simply had fun. Perhaps a particular blog post moved you. Perhaps you’ve been inspired in some way. Your story could be featured on the site as part of the virtual celebration!

You can also send a photo, a doodle, or any other supplemental material. Email artists.on.the.lam {at} gmail {dot} com.

Red Letter

As of yesterday I’m fully vaccinated! First thing I did? Went to my P.O. box for the first time since March 2020! (And afterwards I went to buy socks with more support. Really wildin’ out here.) And what a pleasant surprise to see so many Dreams of a City postcards! Which means: even though I left these postcards throughout Chicago before the pandemic (I stopped once it was time to lock down), all of these dreams were mailed during the pandemic.

Fitting that my first activity was gathering hope. After I scan these, I’ll be sharing them daily to @dreamsofacity. Follow along!

(For those of you who aren’t familiar with my labor of love: From 2008-2009 in Manhattan, and then from 2012-early 2020 in Chicago, I made thousands of pre-stamped self-addressed postcards, each with the prompt, “Tell me one thing you dream of doing before you die. Use this card as your canvas,” and each—this is the most important part—with a different code on the bottom. I left these postcards in public places all over the city, using the codes to record where I left each one. So, when a card returned to me, I was able to match its code with its location and was able to tell where each one was found, and have been gradually creating a map of the city from all your dreams. It’s a 13-year-old love letter and a message of hope.

View all 100 mapped Manhattan dreams 2008-2009 on Flickr, all 600+ mapped Chicago dreams 2012-2020 on Instagram, and more information on this page.)

Another momentous occasion: On this day 10 years ago, I thought of the concept for the first art show I independently curated, Exquisite Corpse!
 

I assigned artists who didn’t know each other beforehand into pairs/groups and had them collaborate on creating new artwork for the exhibition. The late great Paul Klein came to preview it, and he gave me my first real review. It was glorious.

Next up / 10 years later / virtually opening this June: DECAHEDRON!

P.S. In case you missed the previous post, PetaPixel interviewed me about my new online gallery for my iPhone 5s photography. Check it out!

Free Agent

Two weeks ago I was invited to speak at the Leonardo LASER Talk “Resilience: From Cells to the Human Experience” via Zoom, and the video is up! If you were unable to attend, you can watch the full talk here. Thank you to organizer Pamela Winfrey and the ASU Leonardo LASER folks and to fellow speakers Carlo Maley and Chris Johnson for a wonderful panel discussion!

The full video is an hour long, so if you don’t have time for that at the moment, here’s a 1-minute clip in which Pam made an insightful observation that one of the unique ways in which I build community is through agency (and my response).

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jenny Lam (@artistsonthelam)

And in case you missed the previous post, I have an open call for artists for my next [virtual!] group show!

Making a Ruckus // The Art Advocate

Rest in peace, Paul.

9 years ago, Paul Klein gave me my first art review. It was for the first exhibition I independently curated, and I was so excited to have an actual art critic come and preview the show as I was installing it. Not written in his article: When Paul smiled and said to me, “You’re making a ruckus.”

At the time my privacy setting for this Facebook status
was "Everyone but Paul Klein."

 

The intro to Paul Klein's preview of Exquisite Corpse
in Art Letter, "Art: Preseason," 1 September 2011.

 
Paul and I indeed hadn’t met until that late summer afternoon at Fulton Street Collective. (I knew of him, and I’d cold-emailed him my press release.) The first part of his post-visit preview reveals as much about him as it does about me, perhaps even more so. Paul exemplified the best of Chicago’s art world: welcoming, unpretentious, unconcerned with your credentials, no frills, funny as hell. He called himself an art advocate, and he was right.

I never signed up for his popular Klein Artist Works course (side note: I just learned that all his videos are now on his website, free of charge—what a treasure trove), and I met him long after he was no longer a gallerist and dealer, so unlike most who were touched by him I can’t speak as a student or mentee of his. But anyone in his orbit can attest that he was a positive force. In fact, so strong was his gravitational pull that something as seemingly insignificant as a few sentences in an online newsletter—which may not have looked like much for an established arts professional—was enough to assure my novice self that I was on the right track.

Almost exactly 5 years (and a hell of a journey) after that exhibition, Paul emailed me this and invited me to speak on a panel about “What Matters.” The other panelists were Edra Soto, Magalie Guerin, Juan Angel Chavez, and Tom Torluemke. The fact that he trusted me, trusted in what I had to say, especially alongside such titans, again reflects his character.

That was in fall 2016, which means he was already battling cancer then. According to his CaringBridge site, “in the fall of 2014 Paul was diagnosed with Stage IV esophageal cancer that had metastasized to his liver [and his] doctors gave him 6 months to live.” He was going through this yet was still blessing us with moments like these

Laughter between Paul Klein and me at the "What Matters"
panel at Startup Art Fair Chicago, 25 September 2016.
Screenshot taken from a video by Contreras-Gabriel Project.

 

and moderating a discussion on such a theme. That floors me.

One can only hope to be half as good as Paul was, to leave a mark on multiple generations of local artists like he did. We walk in the footsteps of giants. Daunting as that may seem, we can take it one step at a time:

Advocate for artists like he did.

Make a ruckus.

Trapper Keepers with Curators

We all know how important it is to exercise our right to vote. Which is why I’m calling on you to complete [at least a small fraction of] NewCity’s 20^th Annual Best of Chicago poll, in which you can vote for I CAN DO THAT in the “Best Art Exhibit” category! (Here are photos to refresh your memory.) Just type I CAN DO THAT, in all caps, into the text box. (Note: You need to vote in at least five categories for your ballot to count.) Spread the word!

Weekend pick: I’m so glad I got a chance to catch the opening of Exquisite Corpse artist Robin Rios’ Bustes en Rose: Art + Fashion Against Breast Cancer show at the Zhou B Art Center last night. Here’s her own piece in the exhibition:

No photograph, however, can capture how awesome it is. Chicagoans, I urge you to see it—along with works by over 35 other artists and fashion designers—in person today or tomorrow during the Bridgeport Art Walk, an official Chicago Artists Month event.

And I just have to share this photo of Robin from last night. One of my life mentors, ladies and gentlemen. Like a futhermucking boss. Or pimp*. (Giving some poor soul her epic side-eye.)

*I do recall, years ago as one of her summer interns, her bestowing upon us younglings the following advice regarding behavior at gallery openings: “You gotta work it like two-bit hookers.” …It all makes sense now.

Light reading: My second article about Expo Chicago has been picked up by the international art fair’s official blog, The Seen. If you haven’t read it yet, do it now! (Or whenever. It’s the weekend. Take your time. Make some coffee. Stomp through some crunchy-looking leaves.) It’s a follow-up interview with Tony Karman, Expo’s Founder and Director, as well as a look into the inaugural fair’s aftermath and future.

Art travel news: I’ll be in LA in the beginning of February and have been compiling a long list of art-related things to see and do there (which I’ll of course be documenting). Get excited. But before that: I’ve been invited to the Art Basel Miami Beach VIP Vernissage, which is in the beginning of December. I will be there. Thus enabling my rapidly escalating international art fair addiction. (Hong Kong and Switzerland, what have you done?)

And: Tonight, from 6-9pm, is the continuation of my project’s Chicago launch at Tocco (1266 N. Milwaukee Ave.), part of Art Depth’s Chicago Artists Month exhibition. See you there!

Of cool-makers and rule-breakers / Words

For those who celebrate the [best] holiday [of the year], I hope you had a grand Chinese New Year. For those who don’t celebrate, I still hope you had a grand Chinese New Year. Because even if you don’t believe in the lunar calendar, the lunar calendar believes in you. Or something.

Since I’ve been asked, I thought I’d clear things up: yes, I write all my own press releases and anything else that involves, well, words. (Which means, yes, I sometimes refer to myself in the third person.) (You, too, can have press releases written about you in the third person! That’s one of my services! Shameless self-promotion! But not really because this is my blog!)

On the subject of writing, check out my latest Sixty Inches From Center article here and take a look inside Arow, a new artist collective that’ll convince you all is right with the world. Or, at least, with Chicago’s underground art scene and all its crazy cool kids.

Most importantly, stay tuned for an announcement regarding my next show! As with Exquisite Corpse, there will be an open call for artists. Excitement. 

A Call for a Global Art History / It’s not all about you, dude

Before I get to the main point of today’s post: Three of my articles made Sixty Inches From Center’s Top 10 Most Read Articles of 2011 list, and I only joined SIFC in the Spring. THANK YOU for reading all the crazy things I write! Make sure you check out my latest piece, “Text, Drugs, and Rock & Roll // PART I.” (Part II will be live on Monday.)

Speaking of Sixty, last week, at WBEZ and SIFC’s “What’s Your Art? Celebrating the Art Centers of Chicago” event at the Chicago Cultural Center, a visitor approached me (“I know you! You put on the show where the woman rolled around on the floor!”), introduced himself (Dubi Kaufmann, who took a few photos of said woman rolling around on the floor), and told me that Exquisite Corpse inspired him to start his own project that engages artist collaboration. Like this audience reaction letter, it made my day. Thank you, Dubi.

On to a different kind of center… Let’s discuss the de-centering of art history, the need to expand mainstream art history’s focus beyond its Eurocentric bent. I came across The Art History Newsletter, which published “Art Historian, Globalize Thyself” yesterday:

Globalizing art history is “the most urgent task now facing art historians,” says David Carrier, professor at Case Western Reserve University. [...] Art history has moved beyond its blatantly Eurocentric, colonialist origins, when all non-Western art was considered “primitive”—if it was considered at all—but scholars say that serious problems remain. They note that Intro to Art History textbooks may now boast chapters on, say, “Monumental Olmec Sculpture” and “The Buddhist Temples of Korea,” but those make little impact alongside the books’ central narratives, which as always celebrate the long march of Western art from the Greek kouros to Jeff Koons.

To state the obvious, by limiting art history to the West, we severely limit ourselves. Obviously. What’s more, however, is that broadening our perspectives can allow us to re-examine and re-structure our established frameworks, to see our own world through a new—and better—lens. Take, for instance, the essence of Modernism itself. I can never get over how so much ancient Chinese art looks downright Modern—in the economy of line, in the minimalism, in the symbolism, in the abstraction. (In a similar vein are Tantric paintings from 17^th C. India:)

Image via NYT.

But then, in the article, things take a turn toward the problematic / offensive…

Elkins doubts we can write a truly global art history until non-Western countries start writing more of their own art history—they currently do very little, as he’s shown. Even then, he says, art history will remain “in its basic structure and institutional habits, permanently Western.” He notes that non-Westerners who take up art history typically imitate Western models and goes further to say, “The very idea of writing an art history of some country or region is Western.”

·         Yeah, no. The onus shouldn’t be on “non-Western” (an inherently imperialist term, making the West the norm and everything else something that deviates from that norm) cultures to write more about their respective art histories (which they already do). Rather, Western institutions should be the ones providing such educational platforms. Look at languages: learning English is often mandatory in primary schools throughout the world. Many Americans, meanwhile, know only one language (and it ain’t Urdu).

This insularity is not a problem limited to the primary school system. My alma mater, Columbia University, prides itself on its Core Curriculum—which might as well be called Kids, Let’s Talk About Dead White Men—comprising courses like Literature Humanities in which, if you’re lucky, a token or two (Jane Austen and/or Virginia Woolf) might be thrown into the mix. There is a Major Cultures requirement, but students must choose and specialize in one particular region (e.g. Africa, Asia, the Middle East). For art majors, one of the requirements is 20^th Century Art, and although it was one of my favorite classes (because it’s not like I’m into contemporary art or anything…), it really should be renamed White People In 20^th C. America And Europe And Not Even A Cameo By Basquiat.

·         History-writing / documentation is not a Western invention.

·         Etc.

What are your thoughts on the subject? If you’ve studied (or are simply interested in) art history, what has your experience been like?

Viva la Revolución / Hey art’s pretty important, you guys

“This society—American society—does not value the arts.”

True words from Patric McCoy, President and Co-Founder of Diasporal Rhythms, as well as one of the panelists at “Creating Community through the Arts,” a discussion I attended a couple weeks ago. The conversation was a breath of fresh air. Saying the things we all want to say but are often hesitant to say out loud, the panelists pulled no punches, dispelling and deconstructing misconceptions and myths about art and artists, taking on America’s lack of funding for the arts and arts education; and, most importantly, offering grassroots level solutions to the problems addressed.

American society at large may not value the arts, but one cannot deny how indispensable the arts are to American society.

“Arts are essential for democracy. […] The arts teach people to think freely.” –Panelist Carlos Tortolero, Executive Director of the National Museum of Mexican Art.

Here’s an excerpt from my write-up of the panel discussion on Sixty Inches From Center:

Patric McCoy: I’m seeing that the energy is actually in the subcultures, and that it really is a bottom-up phenomenon. [...] What we have is a top-down process, is that the Art Institute, the Museum of Contemporary Art, the art critics, and so forth [...] tell you who is good, instead of you telling them who is good. All of our community should be working to promote… should be telling you, “This is who we think is good in this part of the city,” and it bubbles up. I think it’s most prevalent in visual arts. [...] In the musical arts, we don’t have a problem in America that it comes up from the bottom. [...] Hip hop can start in the Bronx, gospel in the South Side of Chicago… we don’t have a problem with that, that eventually, it gets up to the top and it becomes “America.”

Carlos Tortolero: It becomes “America” from the powers that be, and I think the real problem is that the power structure has created an “either/or” situation, and I want to create an “and” situation, where the mariachi music is good, classical music is good, hip hop… it’s all good. It should be an “and” situation where we embrace all forms of art, in which all forms of art are valued.

Luis DeLaTorre: [...] Do you think it’s because music is a very rich commodity, that people can trade easily, and make money off of, and art isn’t seen that way?

PM: That has to do with power, and that the visual arts are associated with power. Imagery is extremely powerful.

When it comes to working within one’s subculture(s) and inciting change from the bottom up, panelist Giselle Mercier, an installation artist from Panama and the Executive Director of Pros Arts Studio, pointed out that anyone can be a patron of the arts, that “it has to be a collective force and can’t be just from people who have means.” She explained that, instead of purchasing a $3 cup of coffee for one day every week, one can donate to a local museum (or, as I’ll interject, invest in a great piece of artwork).

Technology was another topic that was raised, framed initially as another problem (think bookstores-might-be-going-bankrupt-because-of-tablets problem) artists and arts professionals face. One audience member asked whether technological advances “undermine the ability of the people to decide which art is important.” On the contrary, technology makes the world smaller, makes art more accessible (shameless self-aggrandizing: hello, blog), allows for the democratization of art (why yes I will continuously recycle my own words). In the words of moderator and artist Luis DeLaTorre:

[With technology], we can have [art] at our fingertips To be able to experience it, visual art and music, you have it right there. I was talking to a friend of mine and I said, “Art is dead.” Her response was, “Art is never going to die, because it’s that human experience of creating that always propels us.” 

Essential for democracy? Never going to die? It’s what propels the human race? If that’s what art is and we’re not supporting it, it looks like our values are indeed skewed.

Read more highlights from the conversation here.

All of this brings me to the flip side of the discussion we had (and are still having) on this site concerning overrated artists. One of my main objectives is exposing and sharing the talents of artists—who might otherwise remain under the radar—with shows like Exquisite Corpse and via online galleries. Who do you want to see exalted in galleries and museums? What do you want to see? Who/what do you feel represents you? We need to take the microphone from the mainstream and major outlets and institutions and hand it back to the people, to you. The artist has the ability to condense an entire zeitgeist into a single image, to create something that someone else can look at and say, “This is who I am, and this is who we are.” Art encapsulates the voice of the people.

Related: I’m pleased to be a part of Lolk Collective, a new community-focused initiative I mentioned briefly in this interview. Launched by Zachary Johnson, who exhibited art in Exquisite Corpse, Lolk is looking for collaborators, so this is an artist call for those of you who are interested in street art, guerilla art, and other forms of happiness.

Everything is connected.

Except for the following fact.

My favorite “search keyword” (thank you, Blogger stats) that led someone to this site this week: “how old is jenny lam”

(Well, kind stranger, if you click around on enough links—hint! the sidebar! also! interviews on the press page!—you’ll figure out when I graduated college, and that should narrow things down. Although I’ll let you continue to believe I’m either a 14-year-old prodigy—the ages mentioned on the “About” page are fabulous red herrings—or a geezer with an aging portrait in an attic.)

OMG TGIF MDW sifc btw etc

Sixty Inches From Center did a feature on Exquisite Corpse’s closing reception. Thanks, Lindsey Anderson! (Check out the press page for more… press.)

It’s yet another beautiful fall day, and thus a perfect start to a big weekend for art; the annual Bridgeport Art Walk begins this evening at 6pm and runs through Sunday:

One of the walk’s stops is the buzzed-about MDW Fair, which showcases over 50 exhibitors comprised of artist-run spaces, small not-for-profits, emerging galleries, collectives, and independent curators. Founded in the Spring, the fair is currently in its second iteration and is not to be missed; this, folks, is the future—and the pure now—of Chicago art. This is the rise of the alternative and underground. I like what Paul Klein had to say about it: “MDW sets a high bar about what an art fair should be—an art experience where the exhibitors present art they believe in to an audience that wants to be welcomed, inspired, challenged, and cajoled.” (Edit: Paul just added a paragraph on Occupy Wall Street, and it’s worthy of a standing ovation.) MDW’s Vernissage is tonight 8–11pm, and continues Saturday and Sunday 12–6pm.

Of course, you can’t mention “Bridgeport” and “art” without including the Zhou B Art Center; in the heart of it all, the art center comprises 5 floors of open artist studios and galleries. At 4Art Gallery, you can view Spiritus Saltus and Opposition from Exquisite Corpse. Visit tonight 6–10pm (there will be cider!), and/or Saturday 12–6pm and Sunday 12–5pm. Admission is free.

Here’s a map of the art walk. (Some distances more walkable than others…) (Which is why it might be perfectly acceptable to just stroll around 4Art with a mug of cider in hand.) (Just sayin’.)

Only connect

Remember that Exquisite Corpse guest who “approached me and made my night by raving about the performance, telling me how much it moved him—that he had a moment in which he realized he got it—and showing me, literally, pages he’d written as a response to the piece”? Remember when I didn’t have to resort to quoting myself when I’m already linking to said quote? That guest is Danny Bravman, and he [finally!] emailed me a few days ago. Here’s his message in full:

Hi, I'm not sure if you remember me. I was at the closing night of
Exquisite Corpse, and had been so moved by Caitlin's performance
piece, that I wrote a few pages of reactions which you said you'd be
interested in reading. I had some computer issues and, honestly,
forgot about it, but if you're still interested, here they are.  Other
than blanking a few names, I've not edited it at all; sorry if it's
hard to follow in some places.  It's a little detached for me to read
back on this a month later, I'll admit.

---
One girl painted another girl in red. The second girl rolled onto
placed paper. Repeat. I was confused, because the second girl was
the performer, yet it appeared like the first was the artist: the
first painting, while the second the brush she used. And then I
realized it- the point of the piece, the point of the whole exhibit,
the emotion of tonight, the meaning of the past few months, the answer
we’ve been seeking- collaboration. They are not alone. They work
together. They complement. What they create is greater than the
individual.

Eventually they exhaust the red, and there is blue now, and the result
is purple, so perfect thematically. The first girl has paint on her;
the second has patches of skin still visible. They have been talking
occasionally to each other, inaudibly behind the music and the crowd,
who at one point break into to interact with, calling for the second,
who had adhered to the paper and plastic she was rolling across to
“leave it”. And she lets herself roll herself up, cocooning herself
within her own art, then emerges, and lets the next coat be applied.
She is near naked, but yet not erotically: her exposure is not of
shame, but of sharing; playful. At the end they both procure
scissors- I do not know why- and cut up their work into scraps, not
into clothing as I first hypothesized.

I text back the location I originally was going to spitefully not give
K____, having been upset at the insultingly little effort put into
this purported friendship, this constant standing up, so badly lied,
the sort which had me write off another ______ _U 20__ graduate, to
let be given what I ought show to such behavior, contrasting with the
appreciation I show, the appreciation shown to me by J__ mere minutes
before, who was so touched at my friendship in traveling to Wisconsin
for her birthday, for her show, for her, that I realized how
unnecessarily bitter I’d been, by being alone, wandering through this
exhibit, taking a “Fish of Destiny” while leaving a crumpled up
“LIES”, drawing a half-visible off-to-the-side mist-shrouded head for
a trifold self-portrait, sending an unacknowledged text instead of
congratulating in person the sole artist I knew beforehand, silently
composing hurtful hates. But I feel I understand. Now I know. I see
collaboration before me. The second girl writes, her performance
concluded, on the external easels two questions: how is the body best
used for art, and vice versa. I look around, finding these papers and
pen, to take outside to write down reactions.

I understand her art. I understand their art. I understand myself.
We are not alone. We express ourselves, together, creating and
observing, together interpreting. And I hope my crumpled up paper is
still there, so that I can straighten out the scrap, cross out the
black word and write under in purple: “I understand now”. Let’s see.

Thank you so much, Danny, for reminding us why we make art in the first place. (Well, why a lot of us do, anyway.)

If you haven’t already, make sure you take part in last week’s discussion post! I also posed the same questions in the Chicago art discussion-based #chiart group on Facebook. Screencap of group members’ answers after the jump. The names and profile pictures have been redacted because, well, what happens in #chiart stays in #chiart:

Roundup

Exquisite Corpse updates: shiny new menu page for the show (click on the thumbnails), more performance photos on Flickr, a new video clip of said performance, and new images at the exhibition photos page.

Photo by Andrew Roddewig, 2011.

Check out the updated virtual gallery, the new electronic abode of Spiritus Saltus—the exquisite corpse by Melbourne artists Adriane Strampp, Irene Wellm, and Kirsten Perry spotlighted in posts 1 2 and 3—and Opposition by Boston artist Gideon Ansell and Amsterdam artist Mark Pol. I will be writing more about these two works, so stay tuned. In the meantime, feel free to ask me any questions you may have about them.

You can also view Spiritus Saltus and Opposition in person at 4Art Gallery, located in the internationally renowned Zhou B Art Center. The next monthly 3^rd Friday opening reception is October 21, 6–10pm, and the annual Bridgeport Art Walk is Friday, October 21, 6–10pm; Saturday, October 22, 12–6pm; and Sunday, October 23, 12–6pm. 4Art’s regular gallery hours are Tuesday–Saturday, 10am–6pm.

And, completely unrelated to any of the above, it’s been a while since my last Sixty Inches From Center contribution, but my art scene documentarian self has risen from the ashes. Risen sixty inches from the ground.*

--

*my height†

†unfortunately

The body as art / Art as the body // Photos galore

Photos of Caitlin Bergh’s Exquisite Corpse performance piece are now up on Flickr. (You can find more photo links in the previous post.)

Photo by Andrew Roddewig, 2011.

Here’s a short video clip of the performance, taken on an outdated point-and-shoot camera, and here are lengthier videos taken on Caitlin’s iPhone. (As you can probably tell by the quality and equipment used, documentation was merely and mostly for posterity’s sake. Indie indeed.) I like how you can hear me say, “Do one more roll,” at 2:33 in the last video. Because that one roll resulted in 2:42. Which was a perfectly unintentional and unintentionally perfect moment. [29 October edit: Caitlin accidentally deleted all of her YouTube videos. Stay tuned, as she’ll re-upload them soon!]

Those who watched the performance in person are right, however, when they tell me that the videos don’t do the experience justice; you really did have to be there. But, as has been mentioned, there will be more [and bigger! and better!] live collaborations between Caitlin and me in the future.

Not seen in the videos is the ending of the performance: We bowed. My obsession from the soundtrack blared. And the audience responded to Caitlin’s questions, “What is the best way to convey the body in art?” and “What is the best way to convey art on the body?”

Of course, the performance was only one small part of Exquisite Corpse. Photos of the exhibition are now up, arranged roughly in the order in which a guest to the gallery might view each collaboration. Keep checking the page for photos of the opening and closing receptions.

Unrelated to the show, the discussion is still going in the “Art as political weapon, artist as social instigator” post from June! If you’re new to the site or haven’t been checking back on the older discussion posts, join in on the conversation!