GraceoftheNorth

Van Gogh Grudge

The other day I swung by the Van Gogh museum on my way home with Paul. Since the school paid for all our museum entry I figured why not. The museum has a few great pieces from Van Gogh’s contemporaries as well as a great street photography exhibit. I’m not a huge fan of Van Gogh really. He rejected all formal training, rather painting untutored trying to capture the essence of vision and light. While it produces interesting results, I’m more impressed with his contemporaries and influences like Toulouse-Lautrec and Seurat. Their work seems much more impressive both technically and stylistically. I don’t believe that Van Gogh truly understood perspective, so the liberties he takes when constructing his early work bother me. His later works, particularly the portraits, flatten the plane and ignore perspective to emphasize the subject. But in earlier ones like “The Potato Eaters” his perspective is distorted and it seems to be a lack of skill.

However, I did really enjoy some of his earlier works, particularly the Dutch peasant series. The smaller paintings depicting peasant life were interesting both in color and composition. I really liked this one of a peasant woman in the field with large hands and feet. He chose to emphasize her as a worker, blurring her face. The dark colors and bleak landscape set a grim tone. It reminds me of Kathe Kollwitz’s prints that criticized the war as well as the social conditions during the late 19th and early 20th century.

The museum divides his work up showing each year and location in a separate space. I was rather unimpressed with his Parisian period. His experiments with pointillism seem harsh and less thoughtful than those of Seurat. The colors seem unatural. They don't seem to reflect the natural light or movement, but rather imagined light. Perhaps thats's what bothers and intrigues me. It's as though I don't want to accept Van Gogh's impression of light. The intent is different but I still don’t really appreciate Van Gogh’s work.

I did like the landscapes he produced late in life. His view of the world seems to become more and more apocalyptic. The landscapes are barren and the colors are not of this world. By arranging the collection chronologically you can really seem the progression of his work and his illness.

I-Riot @ Amsterdam

When Sarah, Ollie and I conceived of The Riot Box Walk, we based the concept on our experiences in London. While in London, we made the box, took a walk and listened to music. People saw us coming and they would ask questions, dance, try to buy it and walk with us a while. Initially, we thought Amsterdam would be quite receptive to the Riot Box Movement, so we planned a walk directed by the people. We planned to walk through Vondel Park and Leidseplein. When we came across people who engaged the Box we would accompany them on their way for a while, providing the music. Our original concept really got to the heart of the Riot Box Movement. The Riot Box Walk challenged the traditional private culture of the ipod, but still retains music portability.

Unfortunately, Amsterdam was not receptive to the Riot Box. People didn’t approach us, they ignored us on the street or in crowds and rejected our advances. People sometimes yelled things at us, but we couldn’t understand them. Perhaps the language barrier hurt us, but the sensory qualities of Amsterdam were far more damaging to our conceptual walk. The streets of London were quiet and there were few visual distractions. In Amsterdam, there’s live music in the streets, late night bars and coffee shops blasting music into the streets, as well as neon lights and advertisements everywhere. The city is a sensory overload- The Riot Boxes couldn’t compete.

So we were faced with the challenge of re-conceiving our walk. We created I-Riot. Rather than try to engage others with music, we focused on ourselves. As we walked, whenever we were particularly taken with a song and location- we did a cube. The cubes reflect our personal connection to the music at that location. Our walk through Vondel Park started out as a personal reflection on the sculpted and controlled “natural environment.” We listened to the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds for the walk. Our cubes attempt to capture the haunting and beautiful quality of the park set to the Beach Boys. Pet Sounds synched up well with our surreal walk through the park at night. We listened to our ipods on shuffle for the rest of the night and as the music struck us we made cubes. We walked through Leidseplein to Dam Square.

As we approached Dam, I noticed the neon lights of the carnival were dark. It was rather fitting given the tone of our walk thus far. The cube at Dam square really reflects the quite and unearthly sense we got there. Eventually we made our way back from Dam to Vondel Park and went back through. Ultimately, the cubes reflect location, our emotion and the character of the music. Enjoy I-Riot. 

I Walk The Line.

Kicking It With The Dutch

On Friday we met with Jacob Vossestein, a senior consultant with the Royal Tropical Institue and the author of Understanding The Dutch. Vossestein leads an “Understanding the Dutch” seminar for international employees working in The Netherlands. He met up with us and gave us an introduction to Dutch culture, history and behavior. We also discussed differences between American and Dutch culture and identity.
Vossestein noted that many of the differences between American and Dutch culture stem from the different relationships we each have with our government. While Americans celebrate the birth of our country; many European nations, including the Dutch, can’t place the birthdates of their countries. Vossestein characterized the relationship between the Dutch and the government as long established and trusting. The Dutch place a high premium on the Dutch National identity, with a focus on being local not global. The government sponsors Dutch-citizenship classes for immigrants to encourage assimilation. The idea of American identity is constantly being questioned and redefined by Americans themselves, while tradition and government with a “top down” approach dictate the Dutch identity.
While America is composed mainly of immigrants and our national character, attitudes and identity are affected by the diversity of our population, Vossestein explains that The Netherlands never wanted to be a nation people immigrated to. Vossestein characterizes the Dutch as mostly tolerant, except when it comes to Muslims. Around the time Muslim immigrants from Northern Africa and the Middle East started arriving with their families to work menial jobs in The Netherlands, the country was experiencing a waning of religious faith. The devout Muslims clashed with the more secular Dutch society. The very recognizable Muslim presence seems to threaten Dutch identity. Vossestein noted that Dutch see Islam as backwards almost and as standing against women’s rights. How can someone become thoroughly Dutch, incorporating the values of the culture when Islam comes with its own set of values?

One of the cartoons featured in Dutch Newspapers expressing the mounting tensions between the Dutch and Muslims.

Waaging It Up

On Wednesday our group visited the Waag Society, a center for New and Old Media, here in Amsterdam. The Waag Society is a non-profit organization- a media lab, much like Glowlab in New York. They sponsor projects by artists and groups that are media related.

For example, they have created a dialogue between Europe and India regarding the growing web culture there. They supported fledgling web groups and labs in India, ultimately participating in an international conference on the internet and communication in India.

In addition, the Waag Society chooses projects that are community building. They developed an interactive history game for students played with camera phones as well as a “story table” for the elderly.

When we visited we spoke to them about their work as well as what a possible collaboration between our group and their team would look like. We spent the afternoon working on projects on the theme of “circling the Waag.” I worked with Sarah and Ollie and we made a photo-collage along the theme by taking pictures of things seen outside the Waag. Then we remodeled the images into a photo-collage of the exterior.

Ollie also threw himself down the stairs in a series of photos to explore the distortion of time and space “circling the Waag” check the gif movie out at Sarah Nienaber’s blog.

Slides are Fun (and Art?)

Suprisingly, I returned to the slides at the Tate much sooner than I had expected. Perhaps had I pursued our schedule more carefully it wouldn't have been as unexpected. Yesterday morning, our group went to the Tate modern to meet with Stuart Comer the curator for film at the Tate and a Carleton graduate. It happened to be the first day of the slide exhibit, “Test Site” by Carsten Holler. Fittingly the first two people I saw try the slides were a small girl with pigtails and a balding overweight man. They came down almost simultaneously and she was making this incredible shrill noise, while he guffawed and his slide rattled and banged. It was fitting really. The slides seemed to protest a bit when they bore more than 100lb. It was like a subtle reminder that adults can't really go back and enjoy innocent pleasures without a hitch- sort of like a teenager laughing at a man with a convertible and a mid-life crisis. But maybe I just read too much into an unsteady slide.
The debate here seems to been raging more on the “art” of the slides. Holler said "Going down can be like being under the influence of a drug, a thrilling experience, but it is also a fast and efficient way of getting from A to B. It's a playground for the body and the brain. It's art and it's not art." Jessica Morgan, curator of the Tate, said the work was about the artist's use of space, modern architecture- the way we move in and around buildings and the experience of sliding. While critic Charles Thomson commented that "Slides are not art. All [Tate director] Sir Nicholas Serota needs to do is to get rid of the few bits of art the Tate does possess. Then he could turn the whole of Tate Modern into a theme park."
It seems like in the post-modern age of art it's a bit unfair to say the slides are devoid of any artistic merit. Earlier in the week, the group discussed the absence of art that we've been seeing in galleries and modern museums on this trip. By absence of art I mean pieces that deny the viewer pleasure or the satisfaction of complete understanding. Some said they were happy about the swing toward this minimalism because they thought it predicted a swing back to “real art” and the renewed validation of technical skill. That seems a bit naïve considering this supposed swing has been predicted for years. I don't believe we will ever return to a time defined by a “master” style of painting or sculpture. Those expecting a new age of neoclassicism are deluding themselves. What's to motivate an artist to return to that path when it's already been done and done to perfection? Perhaps a renaissance is coming, but it won't be a rehashing of the old.
As for the slides- if exploration of the space in the Turbine room was his goal, I would criticize him for exploring very little of it. The slides are all in a small area and while they are quite vertical most of the space in the hall is untouched. However as an investigation into movement, I appreciated the slides.

“They’re always after ‘me Lucky Charms!”

"A favorite for more than four decades, delicious Lucky Charms cereal features frosted oats and colored marshmallows. Lucky the Leprechaun creates the marshmallow shapes – hearts, moons, stars, clovers, horseshoes, pots of gold, rainbows and red balloons – with his rainbow magic. It’s magically delicious!"

I have decided on my new project. Gps mapping with a sugary twist. Graceofthenorth creates marshmellow shapes-hearts, moons, stars, clovers, horseshoes, pots of gold, rainbows and red balloons – with my feet, Carleton's gps, a London A-Z and of course a little rainbow magic. And yes it will be magically delicious. Tomorow I will attempt a heart in Central London. I plan to take pictures along the way as well as cubes at every major turn. I'm a bit nervous about how it will turn out. The heart is a challange, its mostly curved, but also requires two forked intersections. I'll be posting my tracks, cubes and pictures to google earth. I'll throw up a speacialized on the go playlist to to the blog as well.

Rothko at the Tate

On Friday I visited the Tate Modern. That’s one of the great perks of this trip. I’m able to see all the major museums in four large cities without actually being on an art history off campus trip. Unfortunately the Kandinsky exhibit at the Tate had just closed. It seems that every time we show up in a city the exhibits close- we missed the Dadaism exhibit at the MOMA in New York. At the Tate they were installing a new exhibit into the Turbine Hall so we weren’t allowed inside. Carsten Höller is installing a series of slides throughout the Turbine. However looking at the space through the viewing windows was amazing. Its so overwhelming and large. To design a work for the room must be incredibly challenging. There is such a vast collection of work at the Tate that missing the Kandinsky really didn’t matter and I might try to go back to check out the slides.

I was particularly impressed with the small room of Mark Rothko paintings. He had originally painted them for The Four Seasons restaurant but had realized their dark tones weren’t really suitable for a commercial restaurant. So he sold them to the Tate instead. They were large-scale color studies of maroons, blacks and reds. The room was small and low lit so they were incredibly powerful and massive. His brushstrokes were gestural and confident. The rough rectangular shapes created the impression of bricks. Rothko said we was inspired by Michelangelo’s Laurentian Library in Florence, which he described as powerful rich reds that “made one want to but his head against the wall.” The sense created by the library was oppressive to Rothko. The closeness of the room at the Tate and the low lighting created a sense of dream-like intensity. It was passionate but calm. The tension between the muted reds and the largeness and grandiosity was interesting to me.

In the room I was thinking about the sense of oppression Rothko was going for quite a bit. I realized what made the room rather oppressive for me was an element he couldn’t have foreseen- the surveillance camera. While its standard practice to install cameras in museums, it is not generally standard for them to be fixtures on every street corner. The average Londoner gets caught on surveillance camera over 300 times a day. Cars moving in and out of central London and the movements of commuters on the underground are all tracked. The ubiquitous surveillance here is overwhelming; everywhere I go I see signs for CCTV. I wonder if its more surprising that we don’t have surveillance in America like this or that Londoners don’t really care that they’re being monitored constantly.

Come Out and Play...Pong (sort of)

This weekend we volunteered and played at the Come Out and Play Festival, hosted by Eyebeam in Chelsea. Eyebeam is a gallery/research lab/studio space that "engages cultural dialogue at the intersection of the arts and sciences." Exploration of the connection between technology and art is foremost. They are also commited to working with students and the community on projects. We toured Eyebeam on Friday afternoon. A highlight was speaking with the guys from the Grafitti Research Lab about their work and some project ideas for our group. The idea of us making and using their "throwies" (magnetized led lights) was popular.
The Come Out and Play festival headquarters was Eyebeam. Saturday Karina and I headed down to Chelsea to see what was going on.
One of the games I caught was a revamped version of Pong, called Sonic Body Pong. Instead of the Atari game, participants played in real space using their bodies as the paddles. Each player wore a construction helmet with a large green rectangle attached. In addition, they wear headphones, hence the Sonic element of this pong. The players relied on sound, rather than their vision, to track and hit the ball. They decided where to move based on the sound of the approaching ball. The movements of the players were taped and represented as the original pong on a moniter for those watching. There seemed to be a serious learning curve for this game. Interesting how little we generally rely on our sense of hearing in modern day to day life. I was quite impressed with a guy on crutches playing as well. Basically he was doubly handicapped. It was pretty interesting to watch, although if the moniter had been bigger the whole experience would have been more dynamic.
The whole concept of the festival was interesting to me, because honestly how long has it been since we as adults genuinely played? There's a distinct difference between playing golf or bridge and playing flashlight tag in Central Park.

Conflux Spawns!

So after a busy weekend at Conflux, I have returned from Brooklyn with a few new projects. The web magazine featuring Conflux artists is looming. For that I'll be covering the 24 Hour Roadtrip. Calvin Johnson, Scott Knowles and Kurt Braunohler, the organizers, led a group all around the five boroughs for a full 24 hours in keeping with Conflux's theme of psychogeography. So I met up with them in the early morning to finish up the trip with them and spoke with the organizers. In a few days I'll be posting the interview up here. This project was incredible. Another project I'm working on involves gps mapping. Saturday, I went on a Grafitti Walking Tour while using the gps system John brought on the trip. At each stop I logged a waypoint and made a note about the piece. I'm planning on matching images to the gps map and getting it online with some help from some of the others here. So with any luck some of these projects will find their way up here in the next day or two.

Conflux: The Pansy Project

I turned up at Conflux a few minutes before 11am with the 24 Hour Road Trip Group (more on that tomorow). I particularly enjoyed talking to Paul Harfleet about his work on The Pansy Project. The project was more personal as well as more political than many other works I saw during the festival. Paul returns to streets or locations where he experienced verbal homophobic harassment or abuse and plants Pansies. The plants are appropriately enough named after the abuse he encountered. I really appreciated the concept of turning negative experiences into oportunities for reflection and positive reactions. Paul described the project as a way of expressing and releasing his anger caused by homophobic abuse. He has a gallery show in London comming up in October, so hopefully I'll be able to attend and check it out when we get there. Check out my flickr for more pictures from Conflux, including The Pansy Project.