contemporary monkey

James Turrell; probably somewhere not very near you

Just how far would an artist go to alienate his followers, to the point of eliminating even the mildest of interest in the work?  I can guess your first response.  I’m discounting the witless wonders who produce harebrained art while claiming canonical importance, when nearly every left and right brain thinker (not including the sycophants of course) will disagree loudly.  They get more attention than deserve.  Take any old example, say, The Turner Prize, which consistently awards finalist-status to some or other oddball in the hopes of gathering steam for said oddball, along with oddball prize.  That’s far too many ears and eyes paying attention in my view.

I’m talking about an artist, followed by a knowing bunch of art-heads, deliberately making it arduous for anyone, let alone a handful of hangers on, to even find the produced artwork.  John Baldessari once burned all of his studio’s work in the 1970’s.  That’s the kind of oblivion-seeking I’m talking about; a real deal ender.  Unfortunately, Baldessari spent the following 20-30 years building up another oeuvre, kind of defeating the purpose really.  I don’t think his heart was really in this conceptual, guess-where-my-stuff-is-now, business.

Through the September issue of Art Review, I may have found the next Catch Me If You Can personality that really knows how to shake off the scent.  The artist is James Turrell, and his mission, for the past 30 years, has been to build a naked-eye observatory in an extinct volcano - that he bought - in the Arizona desert.  He’s nearly finished - it opens to the public in 2011.  Imagine how many fans he must have had over the years before they sort of forgot about him, or worse, died.  Should you ask that much from your support team, to wait out death?  Donald Judd worked not too far away (in distance and loneliness) but at least Judd surfaced every once in a while, and crated his work to a museum or ten.

The good news is Turrell just opened another project, so for those who can’t wait another two years (you should be ashamed of yourself - you’re nearly there!) you’ll be able to witness the wonders of Turrell in relative real time.  This project is named The James Turrell Museum, of course, and was built by one of Turrell’s long suffering fans in California.  A wine maker, by the name of Donald Hess, who no doubt has 30-year old wine stored somewhere in honour of the (potentially) Grand Opening Weekend and Beard Trimming, has been “collecting” Turrells since the 1960s.  Collecting in this case is a big stack of books with directions on assembling the final design, which in this case is exactly none.  Apparently, Hess never got around to any of it.  I guess the name Turrell is an antithesis to the word “exhibition”.  As in, my agent promised me this wicked solo gallery show in Chelsea, but this credit crunch really Turrelled me.

Inside the building, the works are more ocular science and 1970’s grooviness than art.  The rooms are psychedelically lit with various colours of light, both natural and manufactured.  Walking through each colour chamber requires your greatest, age-old hippie tricks to appreciate the strange sensation.  Art Review describes the space as “pre-history” , which nobody really understands, but from the sounds of it, has the making of being inside a Hopi Indian smoke tent with charged-up iPods of Yes or Pink Floyd or Flotation Toy Warning if you’re really current, floating through your ears.  The whole thing strikes me as belonging to a bucket list for burned out, space travelers from the 1960’s, but it’s not art.  Unless you count the drugs and music and Hopi Indian smoke tent along with it.  No, this is just a friendly reminder of a trip from the good old days.  Hey, come to think of it, this project would have been really really useful about 30 years ago!!

Still, it would be good to get an eyeful of the whole thing, except for one essential fact: it’s in Argentina.  Seventeen hours by car from Buenos Aires, 20 from Santiago, Chile.  Assuming you make the trip, what if you get there and it’s closed?  How do you explain that to your travel insurance company?

“…It provides a means for understanding the contemporary world, and, potentially, for making it a better place.”  You’d be mistaken if you thought this ambitious phrase was lifted from an exhibition programme at a contemporary art gallery, or an expensive brochure at a museum of modern art.

It would be a good guess though.  People in the art world certainly throw that kind of thing around like it’s part of the badge, and it sounds like a focused aim of contemporary art.  Those That Know Best proclaim that contemporary art confronts us with purpose, and questions our angles and viewpoints in daily life.  Contemporary art tackles the tough problems with a smack on the head and makes us think about our choices.  It’s supposed to change our perception, make us think differently, get us to move in a new direction.  The position of contemporary art in our lives, however, is being usurped by a a new leader.  Ladies and Gentlemen of The Arts and Letters, Distinctive Guests, and Biennial Buddies, you’ve just been lapped.

The quote above was taken from the About Us section of The Design Museum’s web site.  Contemporary Art, over the last century, has had its chance to make friends and influence enemies.  Instead of addressing the everyday man, however, it chose to address the marginal few - in many cases, the very few - those that have bags of money, or the simple gullibility to create a market in a vacuum.  Contemporary Art has created it’s own No Girls Allowed Club.

Most of us have a bigger commitment to design than we do contemporary art.  Not that we haven’t tried the latter.  But design is more affordable, available, and intelligible.  It solves problems, makes us aware of ourselves, forces us to act, makes our heart beat faster.  It becomes part of our personal statement to our fellow Earthlings and probably beyond.  Design is our individual and collective branding.  It builds network-like organisation across imaginary lines of religion, geography, politics, and arguably solves a lot of the world’s problems right there.  Two parliamentarians, or members of Congress, could easily throw verbal blows across the room, but they could just as easily be seen later in the day exchanging applications on their iPhone, or talking about the design of the city’s new symphony hall.

Contemporary art, on the other hand, struggles to get noticed.  I often ask this question of people I know or just meet: Do you understand contemporary art?  Close to everyone says no, but they certainly mean to comprehend it one day.  How many countries, religions, industries have that apologetical clause at the end of of a statement, they mean to.  It’s like flossing your teeth, or joining a gym.  We know it’s the right thing to do, and we’ve been meaning to for the longest time, but…

Contemporary Art goes out of its way to make enemies, to confound, confuse, berate, annoy, mis-fire, even put to sleep.  Very few of us are buying what they’re selling.  However, most of us can talk about Ferraris, iPods, Prada, great CD covers, well thought out gardens, art deco skyscrapers, the latest hair style, cool night clubs and modern restaurants with contemporary takes on French cuisine.  We can go on about skateboard graphics, impressive graffiti, luxurious handbags, sleek running shoes, even Italian inspired salt and pepper shakers.  And  we don’t have to own or experience any of them.  We’d be happy as Larry aspiring to a level of just talking about it over pints, or browsing over shelves.

Jennifer Northrop is the Director of Communications and Marketing at America’s Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum.  Cooper-Hewitt is the American equivalent to the British Design Museum, only more thorough in history (they seem to like collecting there).  She had this to say about the 2009 National Design Awards, and the effects of design in our lives.

“Design is intriguing to the public,” says Jennifer Northrop, director of communications and marketing at the Smithsonian’s Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, “because design isn’t art.”

Ouch!

Two quotes I thought would help build a solid foundation for any Contemporary Monkey for understand art developed after the invention of the camera.

Tony Cragg, a British artist living in Germany suggests a difference between art and design.  I work on design projects in addition to writing for Contemporary Monkey, so for me this has particular resonance.  “…the designer always has a recipient in mind, but an artist has a different, non-utilitarian agenda and it opens up enormous possibilities for new language.” (from Art World, April/May 2009).  A designer might say something differently, but artists see themselves as striving for a higher goal, using a different tool than the agreed upon standards in visual communication.  However, a “new language” sounds about right to me.  If artists can pull ideas out of their heads, or hearts, and make a difference somewhere beyond their own skin, success would certainly have a chance.  All it would take is just one other person to “get it”. The important point though is for artists to get beyond themselves.

Another quote originates from the film industry, and picked up from The Times (UK) quoting Charlie Kaufman.  A completely original screenwriter, Kaufman is the pen behind “Being John Malkovich” , “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind” and “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”.  If you know Kaufman’s work, the following quote makes complete sense that it would come from his mouth.  Answering a question about his latest film, “Synechdoche”, he responds, “I mean it means what it means, and it means what you think it means, and it means what somebody else thinks it means.” If you can get your head around all of that, the point should be taken for art generally. If an artist means to communicate one way, you and I, separately, could take on completely different meanings, and still we would all be correct.  Or I guess the word would be “satisfied”.