Sunday, February 28, 2010

Siting

Most of the time, I thinking of things in terms of food. When I used to write a lot more, I had a rule I called the popcorn principle. Once the first three pops are heard in the microwave, you know the thing is going to take off. Same thing in the art world - three unconnected references to an artist, image or idea and you know you're only a few moments away form more of it that you really need.

The latest example of the popcorn principle is Kickstarter.com, which suddenly was everywhere I looked last week (which means it's already gone mainstream, I suppose). It's a great idea; artists and entrepreneurs raise money for projects or capital expenses through video pitches posted online. You can make donations (which are collected through amazon.com) to those you like. There even a lot of NPR style premiums (not a lot of tote bags and umbrellas…better stuff generally) for those who need motivation to philanthropical.

My favorite is my friend Jane Palmer’s pitch for donations to help her business, noon design, get an industrial dying machine. I also really liked the Scrapbook: A Book of Many Authors by an artist who goes by Gaily.

There are lots of movies, artists, designers and others to check out...take a look. And listen for the pop.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Gone and Not Forgotten: Recovering History in the 21 st Century

 
CALL FOR PAPERS 

SECAC/MACAA Conference • October 20 – 23, 2010
Virginia Commonwealth University, Richmond, VA

Gone and Not Forgotten: Recovering History in the 21 st Century

The past is with us more than at any point in the last century. Artists struggle to recover lost technical knowledge, fashion looks for inspiration to the Industrial Revolution, and the pressure to invest works with ‘authenticity’ drives artists and designers to become researchers who connect their creations to webs of allusion and historicism. In the words of Martin Davies, we live in an historicized world, where “there's nothing that can't become a historical symbol […] nothing that isn't already a historical text ”.

This panel discussion session proposes to investigate the prevalence of historical ideas and images in contemporary art and design from several of points of view, addressing how artists satisfy their curiosities about the past. We will focus on creative practices that engage archiving, collecting, and reenactment as modes of absorbing and reusing the past.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Calling all my Brilliant Readers!



The Studio Now

The idea of a studio has been central for artists and designers for centuries. From the atelier system of the medieval Europe to the loft of mid-century modernism to the post-studio practices of contemporary art, the place where something is made exerts a subtle but distinct influence on art and design.

Tyler School of Art invites artists, designers, and scholars to give presentations on the studio to its freshmen class in Fall, 2010.

Possible topics include: studio safety • collaboration • the studio in the community • history of the studio • the itinerant or mobile studio • the studio as gallery/ the gallery as studio •
sustainable studios

Please send a proposal describing your idea for a presentation (200 words max.) and up to five sample images to: gbrown@temple.edu

A modest honorarium will be offered to accepted presenters.


Deadline: May 30, 2010

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Toward a comprehensive history of criticism

Last week, Columbia Journalism Review ran an interesting article by Robert Seitsema on the evolution of restaurant reviewing in New York papers. Touching on how reviews have changed from extensions of the 'women's' section of the paper (where recipes might be reprinted), to consumer advice, to a baroque form of descriptive literature, to how reviews are changing in the digital age, the article introduced readers to a number of important figures, from Craig Claiborne to blogger Danyelle Freeman. It also vividly laid out the terms of ethical debates in restaurant writing, making such industry-specific and arcane controversies relevant to readers to whom they might otherwise seem obscure or arbitrary.

It's hard for me to read such a piece without thinking of art reviewing (okay, it's hard for me to read much of anything without thinking of art reviewing). By the nature of their subject, art reviews cannot be part of the consumerist movement that restaurant reviewers might belong to (though I've seen sales happen in relation to art reviews, it's so unusual that it qualifies as an exception that proves the rule). At most, an art reviewer can tell you whether your time would be well-spent at this gallery or that museum, and as busy as we all are, a risk-taking member of the art audience doesn't really need a journalist to be her filter.

Art criticism is a heavy subject (I've just been asked to another seminar in it this summer), but food criticism is not afforded the same cultural weight (compare the Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism to..what?) Is there something we can learn about writing about art from writing about food, or perfume?

I say yes. We can recapture some of the enthusiasm for our subject that it deserves. We might even be able to do this without slipping into flagrant partisan behavior, though I think that's beyond me. We can stop strangling our prose with academic distance. We can begin to write as if what we were writing was mean to be read.

Personally, I would be greatly interested in recommendations for things to read about the history of criticism of all sorts of cultural output. Some years ago, I put together a reader on art criticism that was broad and deep, but I've not kept it up in the last year. And interesting articles - like Seitsema's on restaurant reviewing - cast an indirect light on the practice of writing about art. Please send your favorites to me here...

Once again, I have students writing about art. I hope you'll check out the comments my Tyler graduate students are making on the PrintSeminar blog. Art that's worth showing is worth writing and talking about, so please keep reading.