the authority to remove

the tate modern recently hosted an exhibition of work by jill magid, work commissioned by the Dutch Secret Service who, once the work was installed proceeded to confiscate some of the contents of the exhibition. what ensued over the course of the various negotiations and exchanges between artist and patron is an interesting study about control of both information, images, content and, of course, people. it's a fascinating performance:

'The secret itself is much more beautiful than its revelation.'

Jill Magid, The Report for the AIVD on the Subject of its Face.

Authority to Remove marks the final chapter of American artist Jill Magid's long involvement with the Dutch secret service, the AIVD. In 2005, she was commissioned by the AIVD (De Algemene Inlichtingen en Veiligheidsdienst) to create an artwork for their new headquarters. This unlikely-seeming invitation came about as the result of a stipulation under Dutch law that a portion of the budget for the new building be spent on an art commission.

Through her performance-based practice, Magid has initiated intimate relations with a number of organisations and structures of authority. She explores the emotional, philosophical and legal tensions between the individual and 'protective' institutions, such as intelligence agencies or the police. To work alongside or within large organisations, Magid makes use of institutional quirks, systemic loopholes that allow her to make contact with people 'on the inside'. Her work tends to be characterised by the dynamics of seduction, the resulting narratives often taking the form of a love story. It is typical of Magid's practice that she follows the rules of engagement with an institution to the letter - sometimes to the point of absurdity.

you can find out more about the book generated (or edited) by the project here.

you can find out about another piece generated by the experience, the directives, here.

all of which raises the question: what is the relationship between artist and patron/ commissioner/ institution? what are the expectations, responsibilities, hopes for both players in this relationship? what i find most interesting about jill's work is the surrender to the conditions of the commission(s). it is courageous. and yet it goes against the grain of our precious [artistic] autonomy -- not that this kind of control was a primary issue (or it least it isn't recorded) for many of our art history stars: michelangelo, raphael, da vinci, rembrandt et al -- all had to work to others' expectations and demands (and potential rejection or alterations) while creating their pieces. it wasexpected. how things have changed. now things often start - and end - with the artist rather than the commissioner, patron, consumer.

when did art stop being about serving others, about serving - and giving voice to - a community? when did art become about the artist? please understand me - i'm not asking this in order to have someone explain to me how there was a shift in the late 1700s/ early 1800s in continental europe in the conception of the idea of the artist, which was shaped by philosophical, social, political, social and, ultimately, market (read: economic) forces -- if you want to read a very good summation of that, read larry shiner's the invention of art: a cultural history. what i'm asking is a question for the artist - the cultural producer - who do you serve?

art and justice

this post was triggered by An Idea Called Tomorrow, an exhibition taking place at two Los Angeles institutions, as part of a unique collaborative partnership between the California African American Museum (CAAM) and the Skirball Cultural Center. the exhibitions' goal is to inspire visitors to reflect upon the active role we must all play in bringing about a more just, equitable, and peaceful future. to quote from artdaily.org (a really great art enewsletter):

The participating artists’ ethnicities and backgrounds are as diverse as their presentations, which address a broad range of social justice issues of both regional and global relevance, such as environmental sustainability, shelter for all, human equity, equal access and respect, healthy living, reconciliation and forgiveness, and cooperation and peace.

i'm often challenged by the question of art's ability to effect societal change. i believe it can be a catalyst for changing thinking around subjects, but if i truly want to help the poor i'm probably better off doing somethingconcrete. don't get me wrong - raising awareness around issues is important - but at some point i have to be the [active?] change agent. i mean, education by itself rarely impacts behaviour -- information doesn't equal knowledge, and knowledge is useless unless it's exercised with wisdom. that being said, i still think that artists (including visual artists, writers of all flavours, dancers, musicians, performers of every stripe, mimes and graphic designers) have a role to play in seeing justice.

in his book, the prophetic imagination, walter brueggeman writes: the task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the dominant culture around us. further,

the alternative consciousness to be nurtured, on the one hand, serves to criticize in dismantling the dominant consciousness. to that extent, it attempts to do what the liberal tendency has done: engage in a rejection and delegitimizing of the present ordering of things. on the other hand, that alternative consciousness to be nurtured serves to energize persons and communities by its promise of another time and situation toward which the community of faith may move. to that extent, it attempts to do what the conservative tendency has done, to live in fervent anticipation of the newness that God has promised and will surely give.

essentially, these 2 approaches - criticizing and energizing - encompass the prophetic, or declarative, role of the artist as they engage with the culture(s) around them.

this raises an important question (for me, anyway): how can we, as followers of christ, and as artists, engage with the world -- what issues of justice, ethics and righteousness must we speak about?

drawing conclusions

drawing is very, very central to the way i work because it can be blown up, taken apart, given to another person to execute, put in a computer, redrawn as if the computer thought of your drawing in the first place, shrunk back down to a tiny sketch, turned into a digital game...you can just keep on pushing it.

it's like this infinite machine, which is very hard to do with almost anything else, even with a painting. a painting becomes a very static fixed thing, but a drawing -- you can make it 3-dimensional, you can make it flat, you can turn it into a sphere, you can keep pushing and pushing and pushing it because all it is is information. it's just a bunch of marks once you really understand that. you're really just an arm. the drawing's already been made -- you're just transcribing it.

the above quote is from art:21 (which i highly recommend if you're at all interested in contemporary art - and even if you're not), season 3's episode about the theme of structure in [contemporary] artists' work. in this instance it is matthew ritchie speaking about his installations/drawings. wonderful.

one of my working definitions for drawing, and art in general, is that it is "a machine for generating meaning". that presupposes an ability (or opportunity?) to translate something across media, bearing in mind, of course, that the content and reception of that work/ image/ text will shift as you do so. it also suggests that the work is propositional, malleable, notational and provisional. which means that i can't be so attached to the work that i can't or won't explore other options for how it is presented. and that means remaining open to possibility.

the colour of success

so here's my Q (big question):

what does "success" look like for the [christian] artist?

i suppose i could ask what "success" looks like for the artist in general as well but, like the masthead says, this is "an exploration of the arts, faith and whatever else crosses my mind."

i will be the first to admit that it would be great to be able to make a living (and by that i also mean a profitable living) from my art. regardless of what you may think about thomas kinkade or precious moments i would dearly love it if my work was emblazoned on every possible printable surface or interpreted as any number of kitschy objects: framed prints, plates, towels, stickers, magnets, t-shirts (actually, that might work!), mugs, placemats, table runners, bibles, paperweights, snowglobes, tattoos...a cornucopia of delights. it would be wonderful if everything sold and the work was collected by patrons and museums. if there were catalogues and monographs and films and interviews. let's be honest: it would be. i'm no van gogh but i'm also no damien hirst or jeff koons (or kinkade). after all, the making - while hard work, and often tediuos - is fulfilling. it is both my responsibility and my joy.

and, if i am honest, i would also admit that i want the madding throngs to come and see my work, and to await new work with excitement and anticipation; to come and be transported, transformed, deeply and profoundly moved. and that happens on occasion. someone is moved to tears. someone feels a connection to something spiritual. someone is challenged to change their ways. someone recognizes something in themselves and finds freedom. someone finds comfort and healing. someone is astounded. someone is inspired. someone experiences joy. these things have happened and, i trust, will continue to happen, and they are wholly and deeply gratifying. and i suppose that is "success". i just want more of it. i'm greedy like that.

communillaboration

about a year ago, i attended several presentations at the banff centre. the first was with paul butler, and the second was with matthew higgs. i was interested in what they had to say because paul works with collage and, in particular, has these wonderful, crazy "collage party" events that he hosts for/with other artists. he was at the centre to direct a creative residency called reverse pedagogy. i wanted to hear what higgs, who is a curator and artist (among other things), had to say because of his work with found books, artists books and text. he was visiting as part of the banff international curatorial institute's symposium, trade secrets: education/collection/history. their talks raised a number of questions for me, chief among them the questions of community and the nature of collaboration.

what struck me most was paul's statement that a primary impulse behind his collage parties was a longing for the type of community he had while in university. like many an artist (or anyone, really) i can absolutely relate. university or college (or high school) fills up so much of your day, time, identity that when you leave that social context you find yourself somewhat unmoored, afloat. it's hard enough finding kindred spirits in that context, let alone when you're removed from it. and despite many organizations' efforts, "the monthly meeting" just can't take the place of daily, ongoing or intermittent opportunities to talk about the piece you're working on, or the series you're exploring, or the brand! new! artist! you've just discovered!

he also discussed a number of alternative artists' ventures that move outside of the traditional artmaking and distribution contexts that are quite intriguing. the upper trading post is one such venture. i'm sure there are others of this ilk. anyone?

the notion of collaborative spaces, and social spaces is an intriguing one, whether those spaces are physical or virtual. while i'm still not convinced of the virtual context's ability to foster true community (there's just something about faces) there are ways - there must be ways - to create opportunities for community. where art is more of a communal process, or at least the communal process is an integral aspect of the finished work.

matthews higgs' talk generated ideas about how one can use forgotten or neglected spaces. small, hidden, ignored spaces that can be activated and energized by art's presence. or the creation of spaces dedicated to that collaborative impulse, where work is never finished, where dialogue and discussion and coffee and beer and wine are ever-present and ongoing.

higgs also spurred my interest in relational aesthetics (again). while that may make the art-work less 'arty', i think it's important to acknowledge that art is relational in nature. it must be. as bourriaud states, relational aesthetics are "a set of artistic practices which take as their theoretical and practical point of departure the whole of human relations and their social context, rather than an independent and private space". it may be a little passe now, but i still think the human interactive element in the art process (both while making and when experiencing) is an important consideration for the artist.

i must admit that my desire to work collaboratively, and my ability to sustain that and complete the task (assuming 'completion' is even part of the process) have not been that successful. and i find myself asking why that is. is it the lack of human presence? is it too much reliance on a shared passion for an idea, and that virtual community doesn't have the legs to carry the load? am i too idealistic? demanding? not demanding enough? even in situ, i wonder how much the invitation to add and participate can work? how does one create the conditions for that dialogue between viewer/ reader and work and viewer/ reader? creating the context can only do so much. people still have to choose to engage and "enter in".

i'd be interested in others' experiences working collaboratively, whether it worked or not. for some reason, the idea and act of collaboration, collusion, sharing, interaction, etc. is important to me. i just want to do it better.