Performa 11 logo.

November brings with it the sweeping Performa 2011 Biennial, filling theaters, galleries, churches and plazas across New York City. This is the fourth Biennial to date, and the most far-reaching, ambitious and populated. Roselee Goldberg, founder of Performa, is the famed art historian who is known for authoring a history of performance art in her books, Performance Art: From Futurism to the Present and Performance: Live Art Since 1960. Goldberg also was curator of The Kitchen in the 1970’s, putting it on the map as a leading venue for experimental forms.

Goldberg’s books, taught widely in universities and art schools, place performance alongside painting and sculpture as part of the art historical canon. They make the case for performance art as a form that can be traced through multiple disciplines and which continues to play a significant part in the art world. Of course, I jumped at the chance to cover Performa and was more than eager to absorb the energy, experimentation, absurdity, profundity and dialogue this Biennial has to offer. On November 1, I jumped into the loosely themed “Constructivism and Fluxus” rabbit-hole and bid my quotidian comforts adieu, to be taken up again after the upcoming three weeks had passed. Oh, promises of exhilaration.

Running nowhere fast, Joseph Feines as Ingar Dragset in "Happy Days in the Art World," 2011. Image from whitewallmag.com.

Am I having an experience yet? Maybe. Nope, not yet. Now? And so the weeks progressed…what was a rabbit-hole became a black hole of amateur theater made by blue chip visual artists. With many tickets at steep rates for commissioned works, the hype outweighed the reality. Paradoxically, giving visual artists time, space and funding to create performance has resulted in an experience that is not even half as good as going to 42^nd street. If you’re going to the theater, why not just pay those prices to see a real show?

"Chicago," the Broadway musical. Image from broadwayworld.com

Goldberg claims that performance art is stuck in the 1980’s and needs to be brought into the 21^st century; however, my experience of much of Performa’s “visionary” performances is that they were actually quite conventional. Were I to see Performa from the standpoint of the average art viewer, I might perceive performance art as plays, or worse yet–as mime. Yes, miming art historical movements through the artifice of spectacle. For all intents and purposes, it might be more accurate to describe it as “Performa: Theater Camp for the 21^st Century.” Yet now that I have given voice to my dashed expectations, I am also prepared to say that there have been some redeeming moments to Performa. These moments have mainly occurred because some actual performance artists were invited to participate.

Eleanor Bauer growling in her bear suit. Photo by Nada Zgank.

Eleanor Bauer’s solo performance Big Girls Do Big Things at New York Live Arts proved to be an outrageous adventure into the plight and privilege of the statuesque young choreographer. Slipping into a polar bear suit as she took the stage, Bauer attempted to stand up despite the suit’s bulky, misshapen folds and tucks that hindered her. She kicked two small cymbals and then searched for a way to clap them together with her paws. Not merely slapstick, the bear suit performance parodied her appearance as a “big girl” in a world of idealized dancer bodies. The difficulty with which she moved, encumbered by the suit, revealed a sad truth about the projections that audiences themselves put onto stage performers. Like a circus act, the “bear with cymbal” routine symbolizes the performers’ labor for cheap laughs and approval from audiences, but when the cymbals started to become slippery, and the roly-poly behavior of the bear broke down, the dysfunction of the performer’s role is made clear.

Bauer belting "Crazy" by Patsy Cline in bear suit turned dress, photo by Nada Zgank.

Bauer then transformed the suit into a kind of chic coat-dress and, now in high-heeled shoes, began to mount a ladder. As she climbed each rung, she sang Patsy Cline’s “Crazy,” at perilously higher octaves. By the time she reached the top of the ladder, Bauer was practically shrieking. It’s a dangerous moment: teetering in the heels, sweaty, and digging deep into her diaphragm for breath, it seemed like Bauer might not be able to sing a last chorus. But when she did, it provided another one of those slapstick-turned-dark moments, especially as the last echoes of the lines “I’m crazy for trying/ and I’m crazy for crying/ and I’m crazy for loving you” filled the stage with a haunting sense of desperation.

Bauer reciting a monologue based on a performance by Karen Finley. ("Nothing Happened.") Photo by Nada Zgank.

As she sat at the top of the ladder, Bauer recited a monologue based on Karen Finley’s performance Nothing Happened from 1986. Bauer’s version, “so I went on a detox diet and nothing happened/ so I became macrobiotic and nothing happened/ so I ate a protein shake with extra spirulina and wheat grass and noni juice and acai-berry and ginseng and guarana and ginko and echinacea and kumobucha and l-carnitine and chromium, and flax oil, baby, and nothing happened…” points to her body again, and to the cultish, techno-organic vocabulary of over-the-top health consciousness. Statements like, “I spent a half an hour per day signing petitions on the internets, and nothing happened. I joined moveon.org, truemajority.org, unitedforpeaceandjustice.org, I joined avaaz.org, One Million Strong, and nothing happened. I went to the rallies, I protested the war in Iraq seven times, and nothing happened!” point to the effort it takes to try and connect with others and take action within a sea of competing political and social causes and their ongoing exploitation. Big Girls Do Big Things had all the elements that were antithetical to Performa itself–a bear suit, a sentimental song, a monologue from the 1980’s–but in its fierce simplicity, Bauer’s piece managed to rank among the most contemporary and confrontational of the Biennial’s works. Continue reading »

With Art Basel Miami Beach only two weeks away, we are all holding our breath in anticipation of the flurry of events that will be taking place throughout South Beach and the “mainland” of Miami.

The scramble will be on to find that seminal art piece, the most sought-after event to attend, the best opportunities to shoulder-rub. But how much is Miami’s art community impacted by the networking that takes place when the globe arrives on its doorstep?

From our interviews, it is evident that opportunities do arise from visitors coming to Miami. Artists have received exhibition opportunities, and there has been an increased interest in including Miami artists in major US survey exhibitions. A few years back, then-Whitney Museum curator Shamim Momin traveled to Miami in search of artists with Biennale potential, and Hans Ulrich Obrist selected several Miami artists for his group show Uncertain States of America.  Yet how do we quantify the effect these opportunities have had on an artist’s career over the long term?

Who better to answer this question than the artists themselves? I have selected three artist quotes from Dirty Pink 305′s interviews that best describe what these opportunities have meant to them and to their artistic practice, going forward.

Susan Lee Chun. Courtesy Dirty Pink 305.

Susan Lee Chun

“And then again, another really great project based from here from a connection was to go and do a project through the Uncertain States of America exhibition in Denmark. So that in itself is amazing, to have the opportunity to showcase your work on an international platform. It gives you a completely different set of eyes on your work, a different critique, a different assessment, even for myself when I came back. How is my work being read [by others], by someone else who is speaking a different language; aesthetics are different. I think that led to a lot of the idea of shifting in my work to become a little bit more universally recognizable, and recognizing that artists, by physically being sequestered to a local area and just doing things locally, you can become very esoteric or very single-minded from where you are.”

TM Sisters. Courtesy Dirty Pink 305.

TM Sisters (Monica and Natasha Lopez de Victoria)

Natasha: “…people happen to be in town, and different people spread the word in different ways, and different people that were in town saw stuff that way, just through the love of the family….”

Monica: “And yeah, specifically that Hans Ulrich Obrist picked us for the big Uncertain States of America exhibition and the way that came about was, we had done a collaborative show with a bunch of the Miami artists and everyone worked with each other, it was more about the process, we didn’t care about the end result. So it was a big exhibition, and someone had told him to go see this show, and I think it was locked up, and Bhakti (Baxter) happened to be passing by and have the key, and so he was able to let [Obrist] in and he saw a bunch of the artists that he ended up choosing from Miami from that show. So that helped us get more internationally out there, by him picking our work for this touring.”

Cristina Lei Rodriguez. Courtesy Dirty Pink 305.

Cristina Lei Rodriguez

“I think that it allowed working artists to seriously to get a lot of attention, and for me, it really allowed me to make a lot of connections nationally. A lot of people came through that were amazing, like early on Jeffrey Deitch came to see my studio behind my grandmother’s house, and a cab driver took him there, he drove for an hour and came to see my work. A lot of things like that happened because I think it was the moment, and it was really good timing.”

From these quotes we can deduce that the attention focused on Miami has impacted these specific artists in a very positive fashion.

The questions that immediately need to follow:

• Is this impact sustainable?
• What happens to artists working outside the paradigm of “American” exhibitions?
• How long would this attention last if Art Basel Miami Beach were to, say, move to Los Angeles?

In celebration of the 10^th anniversary of Art Basel Miami Beach, we are sure to see many attempts at writing its history, most likely in relation to Miami as a city, and even more likely depicting the Miami art community from a skewed vantage point that only describes practices in relation to the art fair and the art market paradigm. Of course we should hope for a different outcome.

Dirty Pink 305 provides a resource for future writings about Miami contemporary art that includes the voice of artists. In the words of Adler Guerrier:

“I think the larger PR machine of Art Basel kind of rephrased [the Miami art scene], for it to be more institution and collector led. But I’m going to say that really hasn’t really been the case, they lead by virtue of the fact that they are an institution and they’re collectors, but it’s only by virtue of being, you know, true leaders. I think they reflect what we do. So I think that’s Miami.”

Johnny Hardstaff, "Sketchbook 3, Page 23". Image: johnnyhardstaff.com

This week I want to share what seems like a simple idea…

While many of us insist that students keep sketchbooks or journals in our classes, it isn’t as popular for students to actually use theme during critiques and discussions. I mean after all, most people would say, “They should be listening, not doodling.”

But having students keep their sketchbooks with them during critiques and discussion activities can specifically help when coupled with just a little time to think on paper, record ideas, formulate questions or outline constructive suggestions.

If the expectation is set up so that students will, for example, record in a sketchbook their favorite suggestions (let’s say three or more) during a class critique, students can then take those suggestions and run with them in order to improve a work in progress. If it is clear that students need to use their sketchbooks and formulate two or more questions on paper in preparation for a partnered activity, there’s probably a decent chance that it will go better than simply saying, “Now partner with a classmate, ask two questions about their work and write down the answers.”

Giving students time to think about good quality questions (vs. knee-jerk time killers) is worth it alone, especially when working with themes related to contemporary art. But when we get students to start paying attention to the trail of ideas, notes, questions and plans in their own sketchbooks…. then we’re getting somewhere.

I am riding on the adrenaline rush of playing at the Lincoln Center’s Walter Reader Theater to a sold-out audience with my classical Javanese gamelan orchestra, Kusuma Laras. I wasn’t too nervous, because I was blessed with having a gong twice the size of my head placed right in my view of the audience. Donning my finest batik shirt and having a gong for a face, I felt like I was in a René Magritte painting if he went through a Javanese period.

The author's view from the stage at the Lincoln Center.

But I have no time to celebrate. Two of my biggest school projects are due within the next few weeks. By Friday, I will hopefully complete an 11,520 by 1,080 resolution video  to be projected on a 120-foot wide screen with my friend and colleague, Valentina Camacho. We will be premiering the piece on December 2, 6:00 pm, at the IAC building.

Valentina Camacho & Antonius Wiriadjaja, still from "The Pool," 2011. Courtesy the artists.

Continue reading »

Opening Session at the ICOM-CC Triennial.

Over the past two months, I’ve had the good fortune of attending two international conferences that dealt with the conservation of contemporary art: the International Council of Museums – Committee for Conservation (ICOM-CC) held its 16th Triennial Conference in Lisbon, Portugal, and Future Talks 011 was held at Die Neue Sammlung in Munich, Germany.

The ICOM-CC Triennial is designed to serve a broad audience of conservators; with 21 different “working groups,” contemporary art is just one part of the focus of the conference. While generally I think it’s a good idea to look at conference themes as just rough guides for what the conference talks are supposed to be about, I’m still scratching my head at the theme for this Triennial: “Cultural Heritage vs Cultural Identity: The Role of Conservation.” How is it possible for these two things to be in competition?

You can download the complete list of ICOM-CC papers here, and read journalist Sarah Evert’s good reporting about the conference, but what I was most interested in was the Modern Materials and Contemporary Art Working Group and the Documentation Working Group. In total there were about 15 talks in these Working Groups that dealt with conservation projects of contemporary art. Not surprisingly, many of the talks dealt with caring for plastics, for example:

• A preliminary study into the swelling behavior of artists’ acrylic emulsion paint films. E. Kampasakali, B. Ormsby, A. Phenix, M. Schilling, T. Learner
• Back to transparency, back to life: research into the restoration of broken transparent unsaturated polyester and poly(methyl methacrylate) works of art.  A. Laganá, T.B. van Oosten
• Wiping away the dirt – a safe option for plastics? Y. Shashoua, K. Segel, T. van Oosten, A. Laganá, B. Keneghan, G. Barabant, C. Bollard, S. Kuperholc

In the talk on safe options for wiping plastics, a slide was shown that illustrated the “Mechanical Cleaning Vectors” for more than 20 different methods for wiping dust and grime off of plastics. When you’re considering a slide like that, you know you’re at a conservation conference.

There were also talks by about artworks by Lourdes Castro, Martin Kippenberger, Ger van Elk, members of the “Arte Povera” group, and some of the “Finish Fetish” artists currently being celebrated in the Getty’s Pacific Standard Time project.

Of particular note was Eleonara Nagy’s talk about the conservation of Claus Oldenburg’s Ice Bag, from 1971 (the avid Art 21 Blog reader will remember my conversation with Nagy about the conservation of Judd artworks from this summer). The Oldenburg conservation project was a multi-layered, collaborative effort. You can listen to Oldenburg talk about the project from a video from the Whitney’s YouTube account:

Continue reading »

Patti Her discussing community in Miami in a video produced for Dirty Pink 305.

Art has the power to foster and ameliorate communities, to drive markets and economies; it even has the power to heal, and yet in our society art often exists as something of an afterthought. Despite its value, art is often thought of as “frivolous,” “unimportant,” or simply “not a priority.”

Back in February, the House of Representatives stripped funding for the National Endowment for the Arts, voting to cut a quarter of the NEA’s budget for the 2011 fiscal year–a deep cut the NEA will suffer yet again in 2012. In many ways, this outcome could be considered a positive one, because two amendments in favor of getting rid of the NEA altogether were introduced earlier this year. Luckily, they were never put on the table for a House vote.

That “good fortune” ends at the federal level, because several states have begun cutting a great number of arts organizations and arts education programs. The governor of South Carolina even proposed that the state arts agency in South Carolina be eliminated. Florida, on the other hand, has plenty of substantial grants and programs that aid artists, events, institutions, etc. One well-known foundation gave more than 3.7 million in grant money in 2011, which is more than that provided by several states through their own arts agencies.

I think that Miami, and most of the state of Florida, recognizes that funding art programs isn’t a waste of time–it’s an investment. I believe Miami recognizes that art is very much an agent of social, political and economic change. So South Florida’s arts enthusiasts are still here, ten years after Basel first came to Miami, after the major galleries have sprung up, in the midst of a recession–they are still pushing non-stop towards the future. It is its resilient and united community that makes Miami’s bright future a reachable reality, a journey of sorts that is being documented by our organization Dirty Pink 305.

When Claire Breukel first told me about this project, I knew I had to be a part of it. I was fascinated by the fact that it documents history in motion, that it strives to capture Miami’s real art history and the people who make it. Most importantly, I was fascinated by the fact that it is open to everyone. There are no long lines and velvet ropes. People are free to dig into the history that’s being made or has been made, whether it’s good or bad. Therein lies the beauty of this project.

It gives me immense joy to be a part of Dirty Pink 305 and to be blogging about the project for the Art21 Blog. We are bridging gaps and fostering a dialogue that doesn’t begin or end with any one specific community. It all comes down to this:

In a socio-economic climate where the arts are considered to be “unnecessary” and “expendable,” it has become even more important to foster cross-community dialogue. This happens by communicating, by spreading information, by engaging with one another. We cannot veil ourselves in exclusivity or cloaks of self-importance and shut ourselves off to the potential that lies in teamwork and the community collaboration that comes from a common love for the arts.

This post was written by Tina Acevedo of Dirty Pink 305.

There I was, lying on my back, the sharp bang of shots coming closer and louder. I stood up and I could feel air pressure from the vibrations of the ceiling as it dropped nearer to my head, as close as a mere foot away.  If this thing fell, I’d be dead on the spot. I wasn’t in a bunker–I was experiencing Cinétose, Projet EVA’s latest installation, which debuted at Montréal’s electronic arts festival, Elektra, this month at UsineC.

"Cinétose." Photo credit: Gridspace. Courtesy: Projet EVA.

Projet EVA describe Cinétose as a

“large scale installation comprised of steel sheets that are used both as sound instrument and scenic apparatus. Attached to a mobile grid over the audience, the large steel plates perform a series of movements while descending towards the public.”

It’s also, I suppose, performance art: a piece performed by a giant robot and dramatically scored to what I can’t quite refer to as music. In my video below, you’ll hear a resounding and reverberating banging. That is the sound of the steel sheets each time they are struck by the pneumatic pistons hidden behind their shiny façade. The robotic choreography is also a sound composition, because every one of its movements makes a sound. The movement of the structure and its independent components results in a kind of mechanical score (which, it should be noted, is backed by atmospheric sounds played live on analog synthesizers by Projet EVA). However, despite there being rhythmic elements to the resultant percussive sounds, the timing between the bangs is never maintained at any point, which means the rhythmic structure never becomes musical. Basically, the bangs are not beats, and in this case I’m glad. The worry that comes when a mechanical sound installation begins a foray into “music” is that it will veer away from making a case for sound – the eternal underdog of visual art.

Simon Laroche,  a member of and guiding force behind Cinétose, tells me that the original idea came to him years ago when he had built a mechanical drumming robot doll. Inspired by the mechanical element that allowed the doll to automatically move its arms to make a “clack clack clack” sound with drumsticks on a drum, he decided to make a piece that used the mechanism itself as the visual apparatus. The non-personified, unmasqued robot, combined with surreptitious lighting and sound design, makes the work feel theatrical, even performative. In this case, it is the robotic structure that performs, and because the installation appears to be in many ways a part of the building–a set of scaffolding, a large grid, multiple cables–the room itself becomes an important aspect of the work as it fills with reverberating sounds through the performance’s duration.

As the large-scale grid is lowered toward the public, it displaces visitors and skews spatial representation. Our sense of personal space changes–expanding and contracting–while the immersive sounds become louder and that much more physical. In fact, it becomes loud enough that you can feel that sound is movement, and that sound is vibrations, as the grid seems to hover perilously above visitors’ heads. Cinétose operates on, and plays with, the idea of common sense which is based on a model of recognition, and an expression of performing society’s good will: as a visitor you hope and trust that the booming structure won’t fall and crush you. (I overheard that the venue, UsineC, had to obtain insurance coverage for millions of dollars of damage for Cinétose just in case that did happen!). Nonetheless, there is a fun “cringe factor” in experiencing this sensorially astounding work.

Interestingly, Laroche told me that before Projet EVA debuted Cinétose this month, the group had experimented with making the work interactive, i.e. with allowing the public to make contact with the steel sheets. However, they decided against it for fear that the artistic experience would devolve into mindless entertainment. It is a point that dominates that strand of installation art involving “immersive environments,” and is an important enough reason to continue looking at Projet EVA’s work closely in the future.

Cristina Peterson. "Ophelia at fourteen," 2008. Graphite on paper. 72 x 80 in. Courtesy the artist.

I’ve lived in Miami my whole life, and yet I first heard about Art Basel when I was in my senior year of high school. That was 2009 and I was 18. My “backyard” happened to be one of the greatest art havens in the world, yet I was oblivious to its existence. So were my neighbors, my parents, the townies, teachers, my friends. My introduction to the art world began when I signed up for an internship program. I searched Google for internships at museums and galleries. Search result after search result, the surprise and shock kept adding up. I had never heard of these places. What was the Design district? What was Wynwood? It was only when I scored my internship that a serious education on the Miami art scene ensued.

Despite my obvious ignorance, the people I encountered in Miami’s bustling art community couldn’t have been more welcoming. People offered me advice, invited me to openings, introduced me to their peers, and told me where to go to see the best collections. They were eager to show me, to have me experience and contribute to a unique and valuable community.

So with a scene that is open to anyone that shows interest, that hosts prestigious art fairs, that is home to incredibly talented artists, that offers impressive collections and museums–how is it that Miami gets lost, never making it to that point in time where its stories and successes can roll off people’s tongues? How is it possible to live a mere 30 minutes away from the arts district, from where Art Basel Miami takes place, and not have a clue about any of it?

Herein lies the problem. There is a lack of communication, or better yet, an inconsistent and ineffective flow of information. If news of Miami’s cultural events can’t make it past a 30-minute car ride, how is it supposed to reach the rest of the world? And I’m not talking about Basel and art fair press which has made its way around the world, I’m talking about the real meat of the Miami art world burger, the things that make it past the first week of December, the artists, the exhibits, the curators, the institutions that make such a delicious and happening community possible.

Here in lies the solution. WE NEED DIALOGUE. We need to talk about what happens in our communities with groups outside of our communities and WE NEED TO DOCUMENT our stories and contributions. Naturally we talk about things we care about, and in a sense it can be used to measure levels of importance. Documenting works very much the same way. It says “we care about this, this is important so we have to document it.” It gives us the power to believe the unbelievable, to see what we couldn’t see in person or to re-live what we did see in person. It gives us the power to reference the past and to learn from it. The point is that in doing these things the vital people and events that contribute to the scene aren’t lost in a sea of obscurity, where they remain completely unacknowledged. This is the way to avoid the trap of cultural amnesia.

In this video produced for Dirty Pink 305, artist Cristina Peterson gives us her take on the lack of engagement and intellectual dialogue she’s experienced during her years as an artist in Miami.

Post written by Tina Acevedo of Dirty Pink 305.

Kiki Smith. "Worm," 1992. Image courtesy the artist and the High Museum of Art.

In this week’s roundup Kiki Smith’s graphic works are on display in Atlanta, Ann Hamilton’s work focuses on mouths and hands, Raymond Pettibon opens a cultural grab bag of artwork, and more.

• Kiki Smith‘s Rituals is a solo show at the High Museum of Art (Atlanta, GA) that showcases the institution’s recent acquisition of 56 Kiki Smith prints from collector Stephen Dull.  This group of prints makes the High a major national repository for Smith’s graphic work and includes works made between 1991 and 2004, including many of the artist’s best-known prints. It represents all aspects of the extraordinary range of techniques and imagery in her graphic work.  The prints are on view until January 22, 2012.

• Ann Hamilton – Recent Works at Gallery Paule Anglim (San Francisco) features Hamilton‘s largest video, clapclap (2010) with two screens mounted in a corner, depicting an anguished-looking figure constantly reaching out from side to side.  The artist works with the body’s primary creative movements, focusing on hands and mouths as transmitters of signs and sounds. Her work describes essential human activities and communication.  This work is on view until November 26.

• William Wegman and Eleanor Antin are part of Performa: Not Funny, a series presented by Performa 11 at Anthology Film Archives (NYC) about the overlap of filmed stand-up comedy and video performance art in the politically electric late 1970s.  Wegman’s video art is deadpan and succinct in brilliant jokes that are deconstructions of the punchline. Antin’s The Little Match Girl Ballet is a studio-bound video art telling of The Black Swan, made 35 years before.  Here, Antin is transformed into Elinora Antinova, or the Black Match Girl, before dancing to her death.  The show closes November 15.

• Raymond Pettibon‘s Desire in Pursuyt of the Whole is the artist’s ninth solo exhibition at Regen Projects.  The featured work is a cultural grab bag of imagery that offers plenty in the way of pop subtext, political baggage, art/kitsch tension and an off-kilter sense of humor. This heady mix, colliding with phrases and text snippets culled from a variety of sources, makes for enigmatic and pleasantly sensory-overloading works.  This exhibition runs until December 22.

• Allora & Calzadilla is the artists’ third solo show at the Lisson Gallery (London).  Allora & Calzadilla explore different mediums – sculpture, photography, performance and video – that question the notions of nationality, human survival and democracy through a conceptual, metaphoric and spacial manner. The use of metaphor and of the reversion of objects is a constitutive element of their art allowing them to allude to a particular history and culture of politics.  The exhibition will run from November 23 – January 14, 2012.

• Walton Ford has nine new, large-scale watercolor paintings at Paul Kasmin Gallery (NYC). I Don’t Like to Look at Him, Jack consists of two series of works: one comprising three portraits of King Kong; and the other six meditations on a passage from the memoirs of the ornithologist John James Audubon (1785- 1851). Both series were painted in 2011, and are consistent with Ford’s practice of expanding the visual language and narrative scope of traditional natural history painting.  This work is on view until December 23.

On this month’s edition of our Fielding Practice podcast, Duncan MacKenzie, Dan Gunn and Art21 Blog Editor Claudine Isé discuss the upcoming New Art Dealer’s Alliance (NADA) Art Fair in Miami (December 1-4) and review the DePaul Art Museum’s current group exhibition on Chicago art, Re:Chicago (on view through March 4). Re:Chicago features the work of 40 Chicago artists curated by numerous members of Chicago’s art world, who were asked to make selections that would contribute to a larger conversation about “who’s famous, who used to be, and who ought to be.”

We keep this week’s episode short and sweet (about 30 minutes) by wrapping it up with our picks of exhibitions and events taking place during the upcoming month in Chicago, listed below. Thanks for listening!

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Click here to listen to the podcast.

Panelists’ Picks for November:

Dan Gunn: Cole Pierce and Rusty Shackleford at Hinge Gallery. Exhibition up through January 4, 2011.

Duncan MacKenzie: Hyperallergic’s list of the Top 20 Most Powerless People in the Art World, 2011 Edition (the inclusion of arts writers is particularly depressing) along with University of Illinois at Chicago’s Gallery 400′s new website redesign and their current exhibition Archival Impulse.

Claudine Isé: Blaque Lyte, a group exhibition of art works made to be seen under–you guessed it!–black lights, at the Hyde Park Art Center through January 9, 2012.  Acid tabs not included.