Roney and Al-Haddad, June 20, 2008

Here we go! I'm going to start! Ready? Ok: 

So tonight the Atlanta Delegation went to see two more installments of the (new)Genre Landscape series: one by Danielle Roney and the other by Tristan Al-Haddad.  (Tiffany has some pictures that would nicely illustrate the evening..)  

Tristan's glowing green cylinders suspended between two reflective surfaces was initially and persistently stunning.  The placement of the piece, down low in the park, set below the level of the street allows only a metaphysical glow to reach the neighborhood near the park.  The surrounding neighborhood seems to be rather family oriented, working class, which is exactly the kind of demographic used in alien movies as the site of a landing or something.  Anyway, that is not to imply that this work was only, or at all,  extra-terrestrial.  It's just that the seeming normalcy of the neighborhood contrasted and balanced nicely with the palpable presence of the light. 

Climbing in to the work, walking between the glowing green tubes, feels like swimming.  He has created a totally immersive field.  Although, as with most art that is made to be interacted with, it does not immediately indicate to the viewer that it is acceptable to participate in it.  However, the participation is nearly involuntary, I guess, as the green-ness filled our eyes completely and also changed our own coloring.  (Only Chung-Fan's neon-orange fingernails remained the same color under that green.)  There is something sublime and powerful about art that can so tangibly change everything around it, while retaining the integrity of its surroundings. The leaves and grass were coated in artificial green, looking weirdly ethereal bathed in the fake version of their natural color.  Johana's red lipstick was negated.  And when we turned around and looked at the post-sunset sky, it was vibrantly purple, the shadows in the trees were pink, and all the street lamps burned red.   But as time fades, that altered perception fades and everything becomes normal again.

Danielle's show, on the other hand, was set up on a hill and had more clearly defined boundaries.  VERY clearly defined boundaries, in some respects.  She projected a video on the side of the only building in this park, which could or could not be a choice determined by habit.  It seemed quite less than intentional, which was irksome.  There were so many other things that could have been done in a park that size, as far as presenting video.  The video itself was a montage of manipulated footage of the park and the building itself, spliced in with digitally animated sequences featuring crudely rendered avatars floating in the cosmos,  working in a DNA-shaped tower of offices, and manipulating photos of real humans.  This was followed by interviews of two men discussing all the places they'd lived and why they moved to Atlanta.  

So avatars, or our digital selves, are having spiritual/cosmic experiences, are connected to the inner machinations of the universe, while the real humans are yanked all over the map due to relatively artificial reasons? Our movements, actions, and perceptions of place are controlled by the connectivity (and resulting transcendence) of the digital experience? The connectivity is mirrored in the inclusion of all elements of the whole.  And perceptions of place and reality (both such annoying terms, my apologies) are so layered and complex anyway, that there is tension in reducing them to technological feats.  However, the hyperlink mentality of digitization parallels the ease with which many people (of a certain income bracket..) relocate and perceive place.  And incidentally, while on the topic, what's with the interviews, and interviewing only well-educated, financially secure, relatively mainstream guys? I'm pretty sure that doesn't really reflect the neighborhood and everyday park users.  Sure, these are the only guys who can afford to live like that, but what's wrong with exploring perceptions of place and the interconnectivity and universality of other styles of living?

Ok, time to go.  I'm falling asleep.

We Are Starting a Wonderful Thing!

This is the official beginning of Artistress, a  long-distance art criticism dialogue between friends in Atlanta and Chicago.  But right now it's between Atlanta and Pilchuck Glass School.

We will share with each other the art that we experience in each location, generating a network of awareness about the art happening beyond our respective areas.   (It's also a tool to maintain art friendships over long distances).  This blog will feature our own criticism, links to sites of interest, and good conversation.  

The name Artistress refers to the common suffix "ess" to indicate the female gender of one who does something.  Our group, while co-ed, has a common interest in investigating identity through gender and other social constructions.  We playfully acknowledge both the depth and restrictiveness of identity-based criticism, as well as an environment that makes it necessary to continue looking at art in that way.