I really liked this

Art-in-nature

Land art has great future. There is more and more money being spent on public spaces, parks, squares, ambiguous-nobody-knows-whats - and progressively the idea of the exterior being "adaptable" to our imaginations is spreading and developing. That is not to say - forget the landscape! But realize what the landscape actually is, and try to work with it, play with it, improvize on it as you improvize on a melody. I find this often much more interesting than sculptures in public spaces, which oftentimes seem hopelessly lost, abandoned and reduced by all this... well, space. That's why I was very happy to read about the Dutch initiative of creating a permanent art-in-nature program.

Esoteric Art

This was a very big post about today's art, and how it's dangerously close to something esoteric, how we are given little freedom from the "art professionals" to not like a work they appreciate (while at the same time admitting they don't know how to even describe it or what it's about). My main source (often criticized by me) was a very interesting old article at artnewsonline.
Some of the quotes I used were:

"It's brilliant work and, fortunately, I continue to fail to understand it."
"The nature of really serious art is that you don't know what you're looking at. You're impressed by some quality or bothered by some quality. You don't know why it's the way it is or how it came to be that way."

I questioned the concept of "serious art".

I wrote about art charlatans who manipulate the (re)viewers by putting a rich network of references which give the work "depth".
I hinted this could be - but isn't necessarily - the case of Matthew Barney.
I forgot to tastefuly hint that he lives with Bjork.

I also suggested that if someone insists on knowing your opinion about a work you feel completely out of your world, you can either say "it's nice" (and thus make a statement), or compare it to Donkey Kong.
And then, I previewed this huge post, and did a silly thing, and erased it all. So you just have to use your imagination.

Oh, and I talked a little about John Cage and suggested you might like him as well, and recommended this album , and then I think I wrote something about not really liking Matthew Barney but said that this Cremaster (3) is probably the one generally considered the best. And I wrote it would be nice if you helped me maintain the site and entered through my links... And now that I've wasted 3 hours, I think it would be bloody great.

Ugly and GOOD

(This post is copied from my older blog, by popular demand)

1. As this blog is about art, aesthetic concerns should be important.

2. I believe Plato has had a bad influence on the development of human thought. He is to blame for many things, but one of his worst ideas was associating Beauty with Goodness and Truth. You see, Socrates only really cared about Goodness (correct me if I'm wrong). Plato, on the other hand, used Socrates' philosophy to creat one mega-idea which combined pretty much everything (ethics, aesthetics and ontology). This three-for-one all-you-can-eat concept is only fine if everything you do or stumble upon in life is beautiful, good and true. How often does that happen ?

3. That's where this blog comes in.

This blog is ugly [that was about the old blog. this one is just a little better]. I hate the layout, I don't like the type of fonts, I don't like the fact that I don't have any control over what language appears on the buttons and links. I think this formula is outdated, and am disappointed with my complete designing ignorance.

This place should be as nice, as pretty, as fresh-looking as I hope its content will be.

But then, can't it be ugly and interesting at the same time? Attractive even? Don't we read books that all look pretty much the same? I mean, those are only letters! If they have something interesting to say - I'll like them, if not - who cares about the design, right?

Well, I'm not sure. After all, web pages are increasingly associated with aesthetic qualities. And with innovation. And even a blog is now receiving the same sort of judgement as an "artiste's web page". And will be criticized -and often punished by ignoring - for not being full-of-form.

The thing is - isn't it better to have content?
As in life, the question remains: if it's ugly who is going to stick around to discover it?

Generation Tarnation

Tarnation "is thirty-one year old director Jonathan Caouette’s inspiring documentary self-portrait, chronicling his chaotic upbringing in a dysfunctional Texas family and the unexpected relationship that develops with his mentally-ill mother Renee."



It is far from being the first time someone made a piece of art out of his own life. Literature is overfilled with real-life-stories which make the drastic, in-your-face Tarnation seem like a fairy tale. So what makes this one so different? Maybe it's the fact of filming it, of making it impossible to escape from. Or the trendy editing that allows us to sit through Jonathan Caouette's story as if it were "quasi-real", that is, comfortably distant? Or is it the incredible patience, the tender and careful approach which, unlike in some other self-centered documentaries, shines from Caouette the director, the hero and the person?

The idea of making a piece of art out of one's "ordinary" (?) life is quite present on the net. Two sites caught my attention, medicine films and learning to love you more. Both of them are based on the idea of presenting one's life to others - suggesting that this is art. The funny thing about any such initative is that the people who show "just their normal life" often (always?) end up trying to put it into some sort of form, to make it appealing... Even the simplest videos have comments which suggest some special meaning. This reminds me of Allan Kaprow, the "inventor of the Happening", a performance artist who worked closely with John Cage and several other masters of contemporary art. Kaprow at a certain point stopped calling his works "happenings" (he said he would have to make commercials if he were to continue) and started calling them simply "activities" - which from all I know he still does. The interesting thing about Kaprow in this context is that he loved the idea of creating things that are actually almost impossible to distinguish from "real life" (whatever that might be). He still teaches that and works that way, avoiding publicity and generally enjoying the low-profile status of the "activities". But look at what he is doing, look at Tarnation, look at the "everyday artists" - isn't it fascinating how the form remains present and important?

(If you're interested in this stuff, you can get Kaprow's true classic Essays on the Blurring of Art and Life at Amazon and help me develop the page!

Our Secrets

Do you have a secret? Want to share it, but remain anonymous? Want to turn your secret into art? Here is how.

There is something very appealing about this project. The incredible level of intimacy, the frankness. Although some commentators treat it more like an "interesting human experience" and don't pay that much attention to its artistic value, I think quite the opposite - the human side is here framed in a very contemporary and aesthetically appealing form. Now, it obviously depends on how the author sees it (and chooses to speak about it). If Duchamp himself hadn't seen a Fountain, there simply wasn't much you could do, was there?

Favourite toy

Found on a Public Computer

My Fovoite Toy Robote

M y favoite toy is a robote becuos it can shout misels and it can jump and it can shuot at the same time and it can run and it can tock and punch and it can kick and it can jump and shout at the same time and it can do a back flip and do a frunt flip and it can jump on a bed . my our favoite toy is a rc car becuos it can do sharp trns it can baowns up and down it can make scidmarck and it can run in to stuf and it can jump of ramp .

My comment: isn't this exactly the contrary of Laurie Anderson? This is the "what can it do" thinking. The capacity challenge: how good you are means what capacity you present. How many functions, how many add-ons, how much "stuff" you can do. I'm fascinated by this kid's note, because it puts in the clearest of ways what many people unconsciously or hypocritically dare not say: that what they like are gimmicks. Tricks. We like to be tricked. To have them do something we never could.
And that's how they become our favourite toy.