Occasionally, a bit of writing comes along that strikes a chord of resonance nearly too perfect to be true. The sound of this particular resonance echos around the complicated cavern of discernment that an artist’s role operates in relation to a public [whatever that may be]. Clearly, rendering a history of an artist’s behavioral tendency to perform the responsibilities and power dynamics of an institution has an essential urgency that needs to be addressed. Thus, the essay, “Art Without Artists,” by Anton Vidokle [mentioned in admiration several times before], currently being occupied by the 16th issue of the E-Flux journal, does just this. Please read the entire essay at e-flux.com/journal. If you are involved in any activities, be them collective, collaborative or organizational, you owe it to the history of your methodology to read this essay.

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“If the artist is already expected to question the social, the economic, the cultural, and so forth, then it goes without saying that when a curator supersedes the artist’s capacity as a social critic, we abandon the critical function embodied by the role of the artist and reduce the agency of art.”

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“If there is to be critical art, the role of the artist as a sovereign agent must be maintained. By sovereignty, I mean simply certain conditions of production in which artists are able to determine the direction of their work, its subject matter and form, and the methodologies they use—rather than having them dictated by institutions, critics, curators, academics, collectors, dealers, the public, and so forth. While this may be taken for granted now, historically the possibility of artistic self-determination has been literally fought for and hard won from the Church, the aristocracy, public taste, and so on. In my view, this sovereignty is at the very center of what we actually understand as art these days: an irreducible element considered to be the ‘freedom of art.’”

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“It has recently been pointed out to me that as artistic production becomes increasingly deskilled—and, by extension, less identifiable by publics as art when placed outside the exhibition environment—exhibitions themselves become the singular context through which art can be made visible as art. This alone makes it easy to understand why so many now think that inclusion in an exhibition produces art, rather than artists themselves. But this is a completely wrong approach in my opinion: what most urgently needs to be done is to further expand the space of art by developing new circulation networks through which art can encounter its publics—through education, publication, dissemination, and so forth—rather than perpetuate existing institutions of art and their agents at the expense of the agency of artists by immortalizing the exhibition as art’s only possible, ultimate destination. ”

“As Group Material, Martha Rosler, and other artists in the 1980s demonstrated, curating can become a part of artistic practice just as any social form or activity can. For example, Martha Rosler’s If You Lived Here began as an immediate response to a lack of institutional support for an exhibition she was invited to do at the Dia Center for the Arts. Rosler felt that the best way to do something there was by positioning herself as curator/organizer—a kind of one-person institution rather than an individual artist. This resulted in a project comprising several exhibitions on housing and homelessness involving numerous artists, architects, activists, and community groups, which then turned out to be a seminal artwork that influenced several generations of artists including Rirkrit Tiravanija, Renée Green, Liam Gillick, Jeanne van Heeswijk, Marion von Osten, and many others.”

With a number of new projects being produced [with several collaborators] these entries have been few and far between lately. However, I’d like to offer a listing of extremely interesting productions and projects to help occupy your never ending search for reflective interest.

The Charley Wooley Radio Show on ArtReview.com

Episode 1: He talks with Kathy Grayson of Deitch Projects and artist, critic and art historian Svetlana Alpers. I specifically enjoy Grayson’s chic-slacker performance of revealing the Deitch underworld and proposing the millionaire as mystic-misfit-support-unit [or "public servant"... otherwise known as subversive "advertising"] and the pathetic realization that she should have been “hanging out with collectors.” Perhaps this pathetic scenario is a charming little model of an imaginary class that was doomed to collapse. I do appreciate her “street art” correlation to “Green Day.”

[wpaudio url="http://tobeyalbrightandfriends.com/morewriting/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/Radio_Show_Interview.mp3"]

Listen to additional episodes here.

http://unknownjournal.wordpress.com/

This art news source has been given previous attention real estate in a previous post, but the consistent coverage demands a return visit. I’ll say no more.

A Fly Artist Statement

Artist statements always seem to embody a sense of hopelessness as those that craft them absolve their responsibility in communicating with language by claiming that what they do can only be done with the only medium they feel comfortable using [i.e. the excuse 'the work speaks for itself']. In a short interview on the brilliant Best Made Projects blog, Shawn Davis explains his work to Peter Buchanan-Smith in a poetically practical way that will hopefully inspire similar approaches to the statement craft of visual artists. I’d also like to propose the following interview as a charming little explicatory metaphor [through fishing] to that complicated relationship between the pursuit of a personalized passionate activity and the abstracting process of representing it as a consumable product. Additionally, the following might make a nice little user’s manual to confronting and coping with the anxieties of producing new patterns in an over-produced and over-hyped ‘art world.’

Read the entire interview here, please.

PBS: People will spend upwards of four figures for your flies. What draws someone to spend that type of money?
SD: While it may be hard for most people to appreciate the particulars in my craftsmanship, I hope the artistry of my pieces is something anyone can appreciate.  An artistic salmon fly couples beauty with danger, a poisoned apple to a fish.  I try to stretch that tension to the extreme in a vision elegantly simple.  It is my hope that, even if people have no idea /how/ I do what I do, one look at my flies will convince them of /why/ I do what I do.

PBS: Your flies have tremendous character. They are almost like actual living creatures. Do you improvise this as you make each fly, or have you a “character sketch” in mind before you start?
SD: Many artistic tiers crank out hundreds of different patterns per year, often in my eyes merely slight variations of each other.  I try to make each fly a reinvention of the art, completely different from the last.  That takes time.  Often a pattern will gestate in my mind for years.  Occasionally I’ll jot down some notes when I think of a unique technique, just so I don’t forget it, without any idea if or how it will eventually make it into a finished pattern.  My /Fire/ fly is a great example of my creative process, which is one of constant revision.  I wanted to make a fly that looked like it was on fire, but all I had was a color scheme.  After tying several unsuccessful patterns based on somewhat traditional methods, I finally developed something quite new and yet refreshingly simple, forming pheasant crests and tinsel into flames that enveloped the body of the fly in strikingly flame-like fashion.  One day, when I have time (that which is so elusive), I will compose a photo essay of my creative process for a piece from start to finish.

PBS: This might be a stupid question but most flies are designed to catch fish. Are yours?
Artistic salmon flies arose from early tiers’ attempts to mimic the beautiful colors in baitfish.  While the art has drifted significantly from those roots, and a few of the most daring tiers have even suggested that artistic flies need no longer be functional as fishing implements, I think functionality is essential to the character of a fly.  If it doesn’t catch fish, then what does it do?  Now, my finished flies are permanently mounted in domes and on necklace chains and will never touch water, but I’m confident that they would meet that challenge were they put to it.

PBS: When you fish, what type of fly do you use?
Ironically, I typically use extremely simple patterns when I fish.  My favorite flies are those of my own invention, and I have a few fishing patterns that have been more successful for me than the old standbys in their class.  While they are infinitely simpler than my artistic creations, I’m every bit as proud of them as I am of my presentation flies.  I apply my creativity every bit as tenaciously to tying practical flies as I do to tying artistics.

Popular Unrest Episodic Drama

Popular Unrest is a brilliant film narrative underscoring popular notions of community through the failings of capital exchange and cultural over saturation. The episodic film was created by Melanie Gilligan and will be shown at Chisenhale Gallery in London, Kölnischer Kunstverein in Cologne, Walter Phillips Gallery at The Banff Centre in Alberta, and the Presentation House Gallery in North Vancouver. You can watch each episode of the film here, as this is a highly recommended exercise in exchange potentialities.