Test-Driving the New Season 5 Educators’ Guide: John Baldessari and Juxtaposition
John Baldessari, "Beach Scene/Nuns/Nurse (with Choices)", 1991 courtesy Marian Goodman Gallery, New York
Within the first few pages of the season 5 Educators’ Guide, readers are asked to think about the power and influence of juxtaposing images in order to give the viewer very different experiences. Working with artists like John Baldessari, a few of my classes recently began a unit to explore how juxtaposition has the power to send visual messages, tell stories, and even share qualities about ourselves.
Over the course of a few days, I asked students to bring in and collect a variety of images they would like to combine in a single artwork. After assembling the images and cropping them a bit, I asked them about the images they selected and what these images said about their interests, their habits and even their passions. One student remarked that the images he selected basically described his obsession with money. Another described her images as being primarily connected to food, which is something finds comfort in. Still another described his images revolving around his work related to environmental projects.
As students assemble their works this week, we will also begin moving into some small-group research exploring how juxtaposition can be used to send messages simply by placing certain images side-by side.
Nancy Spero "Masha Bruskina / Gestapo Victim" 1994, courtesy the artist and Galerie Lelong, New York
Students will be asked to work with partners to research and collect images (fine art reproductions, advertisements, posters, etc.) that send specific messages through juxtaposition. Along with viewing works by John Baldessari, we will be also be looking into artists such as Yinka Shonibare MBE, Nancy Spero, Kerry James Marshall, and Eleanor Antin.
Creating high quality works of art that are technically proficient is always very satisfying for both teachers and students, but when we have the opportunity to make students more aware of the images they see, and how they relate to larger themes and broader issues, we are teaching students not only how to create works of art but also how to interpret them.
The Puppy Wars
Jeff Koons, "Girl with Dolphin and Monkey" (The Whitney Museum of American Art 75th Anniversary Photography Portfolio), 2006. Courtesy Whitney Museum
The eerily small, closely watched world of New York art criticism experienced some infighting earlier this month, following the publication of February’s The Brooklyn Rail. “I think that there are some things you shouldn’t do, and promoting Jeff Koons is one of them,” wrote Rail editor John Yau, picking a fight with critic Jerry Saltz, who had championed Koons (featured in Season Five of Art:21) as “the emblematic artist of the decade” in New York Magazine’s end-of-the-00s issue. Saltz had also declared Koons’s work emblematic of America—it’s “crowd-pleasing, heat-seeking, impeccably produced, polished, popular, expensive, and extroverted—while also being abrasive, creepily sexualized…” It’s this last part that Yau resented; he titled his editorial The Difference Between Saltz’s America and Mine. “In Saltz’s America,” he quipped, “Puppy is great public art and Tom Cruise is the good, handsome German with an eye patch, trying to save the world from Hitler.” Saltz retaliated via his Facebook page, calling Yau “dickish,” “incoherent,” “self-satisfied,” and “irrelevant.” It wasn’t a pretty moment for art writing.
Jerry Saltz. Courtesy Kevin Wick/Longview Photography.
John Yau, taken during the video taping of Add-Verse, 2003. Photo: Gloria Graham.
I care about what Yau and Saltz say — partly because I’m a writer, and knowing what other, more visible writers write is part of my job — but also because both of them have influenced me. Yau’s Corpse and Mirror gave me new entry into abstraction, while Saltz taught me that Charles Ray can be likable and that lush adjectives can join with austere conceptualism. A lot of other writers and artists care too. So much so that I’m noticeably late to comment on the Saltz-Yau tiff. Art21 contributor Hrag Vartanian “broke” the story; Tyler Green of Modern Art Notes spoke up for Yau; artist William Powhida invited the critics to debate at #class; C-Monster, art blogging’s straightest shooter, kept tabs on the squabble; poet Michael Leong wrote that Saltz hadn’t found “enough critical distance to say anything productive” (and received a retaliatory comment from Saltz). Some — Vartanian, Leong and Green in particular — did justice to the ethical problem Yau had with Saltz. But there’s another more frustrating ethical problem integral to all of this. This problem has little to do with either critic’s ultimate point. Those were actually reasonable: Saltz said that Koons embodied an era in American culture; Yau said Koons didn’t, and that saying so evidenced tunnel-vision. The problem has to do with how they went about arguing. Continue reading »
Transcendent: Vija Celmins and Kimsooja
Vija Celmins, "Untitled (Big Sea #1)," 1969. Graphite on acrylic ground on paper, 34 1/8 x 45 1/4 inches. Private collection. Courtesy McKee Gallery, New York.
Recently I was engaged in a little debate about whether contemporary art can truly be transcendent — taking us beyond the range of normal perception to some place else, some place free from the constraints of the material world. While I immediately thought of Season 5 artist, Kimsooja, and her ability to highlight the artistic context in everyday activities (sewing, cleaning, decorating, etc.), I also thought about the repetitive nature of her work and how repetition is one path to transcendence that many other artists most certainly incorporate. One of these artists, Vija Celmins, is featured in Season 2 and utilizes repetition in her seascapes and night skies. They are meticulously drawn and painted to the point that the viewer isn’t looking at a picture as much as they are looking into one. And when you look close enough, similar to the experience thousands of students have when really seeing a painting by George Seurat or Chuck Close, you go someplace else; you see beyond what the picture is.
I try to make a piece that’s strong and thorough and doesn’t jump off the paper. It’s neither ocean nor a piece of paper. It becomes a third thing.
— Vija Celmins
Any teacher that has experienced the hum of fluorescent lights and a roomful of students engaged to the point that you can actually hear ideas being scratched into paper or canvas has experienced another kind of transcendent moment. These are the times we feel that “buzz” of work and the rhythm of not necessarily moving through the room, but of the room moving through us, through our own energy and the work we’re facilitating. It’s our job to create spaces for these kinds of moments where students become immersed in the ideas they are shaping and shaping them slowly, without rushing, but with a sense of urgency.
Confronting History
Doris Salcedo, La Casa Viuda I (detail), 1992-94, Collection of Worchester Art Museum
Looking through the interviews and essays featured in Art:21- Art in the Twenty- First Century 5, the companion book to season 5, I keep discovering a ton of words to teach by. This past weekend, as I prepared to work with one of my classes, I began flipping through the section featuring Doris Salcedo and found two quotes that kicked off this week:
As an artist, I have a responsibility. I have to look at historical events and work with whatever material is given to me.
The memory of anonymous victims is always being obliterated; I’m trying to rescue it. That’s why my work does not represent something; it’s simply a hint of something- trying to bring into our presence something subtle that is no longer there.
What I enjoy about these two quotes really centers on how artists must confront history- questioning beyond facts and figures in order to get to the why. How do we question the framing of history as artists and art educators working with students? How do we create work that embraces, and even encourages, multiple perspectives? How can we rescue memory, even our own?
When students choose to make work that is about a time and a place, there can be a commitment to investigate that time and place in a way that starts with history and enters into a different kind of learning through interpretation and giving that perspective a specific form.
The Real Story: Laurie Simmons Interviews Art21 Executive Director Susan Sollins
Season 4 artist Laurie Simmons recently sat down with Art21’s Executive Director Susan Sollins to uncover the story of how Art21 began and the experience of filming 86 of today’s most thought-provoking artists.
LAURIE SIMMONS: I am Laurie Simmons with Founder and Executive Director of Art21, Susan Sollins. It is Summer 2009.
SUSAN SOLLINS: You are such a pro.
LS: Well, you trained me, right?
After 20 years of working with art and artists, what made you think artists themselves would make for interesting TV?
SS: In general, when artists are interviewed in public settings or on film, I would find the result stiff, academic, or too theoretical. Sometimes these situations are more about the interviewer than the artist. I always had all sorts of questions that were never asked—or answered—unless I happened to be talking with an artist directly—like with you, Laurie, right now. This is a moment when things can be revealed. Most people don’t get a chance to talk with artists. You might see the work, but you’re remote from the person. I wanted to bring these experiences together. I thought it could be possible to make something for television that would provide people with a more complete understanding of artists’ methods and thinking.
LS: Well, toss me a question, one of those burning questions you wanted to ask with this idea of revealing something.
SS: Well, something simple—are you interested in beauty? Is beauty important to you? Do you ever think about or play with beauty? Is it a factor in what you do? For years beauty is a topic that has not been talked about. What is beauty for you—if it interests you at all? And what is beauty today?
LS: And yet that’s just a fraction of the way that you divided up the segments of Art21 series and the subjects that you’ve touched on. Beauty is…
SS: Well, it’s a subtext.
LS: A subtext, one of the many.
SS: I’m interested in the real voice of the artist. I want the artists to tell their stories.
LS: So you’re looking for the real story?
SS: I am looking for the real story.
LS: Walk me through the steps toward the creation of Art21.
Test-Driving the New Season 5 Educator’s Guide
Paul McCarthy, "Painting Face Down- White Line," 1972. Courtesy Scala Archives.
Yesterday I was talking with a two students who attended a recent preview screening that featured Paul McCarthy in the Transformation episode. The students asked me about why McCarthy’s work seems to purposely make the viewer uncomfortable, and then the discussion got around to the kinds of things we do in response to feeling uncomfortable, especially as artists. It was like a lightning bolt. One of the students interrupted the conversation to blurt out, “Wait a minute, a ton of art work is made BECAUSE artists are uncomfortable or don’t like something—something they have a strong reaction to.”
It was at this point that I decided to test-drive the new Season 5 Educators’ Guide.
I asked both students about recent works they created that they didn’t like—works that were “ok” but not really being considered for their final portfolio. Literally taking a page from the Guide itself, I asked the students to destroy those works and then put them back together in a way that sends a different or opposing message. They thought I was absolutely nuts…. and then they loved it. Both students agreed to give it a try and update me on the results. I made it clear that while this approach won’t guarantee a portfolio-quality work, it’s the idea and process that I am interested in them experiencing.
As many of you begin to use the Season 5 Educators’ Guide, please share your stories and anecdotes about how questions and ideas in the Guide inspire your teaching and student learning.
Ask Art21 a Question
Filming Mary Heilmann in Bridgehampton, NY, 2008. Art in the Twenty-First Century, production still, 2009. © Art21, Inc. 2009.
Why are there only 4 episodes a season, and 1 season every 2 years? How do you choose the artists to feature? What is it like filming [INSERT ANY ARTIST] in their studio?
Here’s your chance to ask us these questions or anything else that you’ve ever wondered about Art21.
Earlier this year, associate curator Wesley Miller gave us a look inside the curatorial process. That same week, series producer Eve Moros Ortega took us behind the scenes of the production process. This week, both Wes and Eve are back to field questions from our audience. The latest installment of the Inside PBS blog’s Q&A series opens the door for you to ask us anything—anything—about what we do here at Art21.
Please feel free to leave a question either here or on the Inside PBS blog, and Wes and Eve will try to answer as many as possible. The answers will be posted next week on the Inside PBS blog.
Need to refer to Season 5 episodes for inspiration? Not to worry, we’ve got you covered on the PBS Video portal! Just interested in a discussion about clowns? Well, the PBS Facebook audience has you covered there!
Donate $5 for Season 5
Wow! We can’t believe Season 5 of Art:21—Art in the Twenty-First Century is over. Hopefully you joined the over 4 million viewers who watched Season 5 on PBS during October, or were able to go to one of the more than 600 screenings nation-wide and in 24 foreign countries as part of Art21 Access ’09. Additional thousands followed Art21 on Facebook, Twitter, and other social media platforms to catch all the Season 5 news.
You can also join the many others who are recognizing this moment in Art21’s history by making a donation today.
Please consider supporting Art21 with a donation of as little as $5 in honor of our fifth season. Your contribution would help underwrite Art21’s activities and programs in the coming year.
Thank you for supporting Art21 and for watching Season 5!
Another Kick in the Pants
Kiki Smith, "Rapture" 2001, Courtesy PaceWildenstein
I use Art21 for a kick in the pants from time to time, whether it’s to inspire my teaching by watching Carrie Mae Weems or to give my studio practice a jolt by listening to Kiki Smith talk about her process for making works of art. I mean, everyone needs an occasional kick in the pants, don’t you think?
At the beginning of this year I was introduced to TED.com, and while it’s not devoted to contemporary art the way Art21 is, it has become another way of sending my thinking and planning in fantastic directions. If you are familiar with TED.com, you’ve probably had a few jaw-dropping experiences. If not, then let me share with you TED’s introduction and mission statement:
TED is a small nonprofit devoted to Ideas Worth Spreading. It started out (in 1984) as a conference bringing together people from three worlds: Technology, Entertainment, Design. Since then our scope has become ever broader…. We believe passionately in the power of ideas to change attitudes, lives and ultimately, the world. So we’re building here a clearinghouse that offers free knowledge and inspiration from the world’s most inspired thinkers, and also a community of curious souls to engage with ideas and each other. This site, launched April 2007, is an ever-evolving work in progress.
Since becoming a full-fledged TED fan, I have shared segments with colleagues, students, family and even complete strangers that I’ve met at conferences. Recently, I was pleased to offer Sir Ken Robinson’s lecture as an introduction to a meeting with my K-12 art teachers, asking everyone to think about what “creativity” really means and how we cultivate it.
TED gives all of us the chance to spend time with great thinkers, artists, scientists, writers, teachers and performers- from Rory Sutherland to Jane Goodall to Theo Jansen to Vik Muniz. The parallel with Art21 is that the videos are manageable in terms of length. You don’t need to set aside 90 minutes to watch a TED video since most are between 5 and 25 minutes long. You have just enough time to be blown away (or not), to think about it, and then kick yourself in the pants to do something with what you’ve just learned, even if it’s simply an idea worth spreading.
Jeff Koons | Versailles
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EXCLUSIVE: From his studio in New York City, Jeff Koons discusses his 2008 exhibition at the Château de Versailles in France. Koons explores the power and sensuality of the grounds at Versailles, citing Louis Quatorze (Louis XIV) as an inspriation for his 1992 piece, Puppy, a large floral sculpture made out of 60,000 large flowers.
Jeff Koons plucks images and objects from popular culture, framing questions about taste and pleasure. His contextual sleight-of-hand, which transforms banal items into sumptuous icons, takes on a psychological dimension through dramatic shifts in scale, spectacularly engineered surfaces, and subliminal allegories of animals, humans, and anthropomorphized objects. The subject of art history is a constant undercurrent, whether Koons elevates kitsch to the level of Classical art, produces photos in the manner of Baroque paintings, or develops public works that borrow techniques and elements of seventeenth-century French garden design. Organizing his own studio production in a manner that rivals a Renaissance workshop, Koons makes computer-assisted, handcrafted works that communicate through their meticulous attention to detail.
Jeff Koons is featured in the Season 5 (2009) episode Fantasy of the Art:21—Art in the Twenty-First Century television series on PBS. Watch the full episode online in the PBS Video portal (available for a limited time, through November 13, 2009).
Jeff Koons. Split Rocker, 2000. Stainless steel, soil, geotextile fabric, internal irrigation system, and live flowering plants, 441 x 465 x 426 inches. Installation view, “Jeff Koons Versailles,” Château de Versailles, France, October 9, 2008–April 1, 2009. © Jeff Koons. Courtesy the artist.
VIDEO | Producer: Wesley Miller & Nick Ravich. Interview: Susan Sollins. Camera: Martial Barrault & Joel Shapiro. Sound: Mark Mandler. Editor: Paulo Padilha & Mark Sutton. Artwork Courtesy: Jeff Koons. Special Thanks: L’Etablissement Public du musée et du domaine national de Versailles.
