Why such an unreasonable demand? Only the premiere of a four hour screening of performances of women “repeatedly submerging and scrubbing the fabric they wear…effusive liquid emerging between their legs…” Never mind, you are free to come and go throughout. Still not persuaded?
Well. Surely you can spare a click or two to at least contemplate Amanda Coogan’s impressive body of work. How We Live Now tells me Coogan is a national treasure on the isle, and the website makes it easy to believe. Here, the Madonna performances, with the blunt offering of unglamorous breast. There, We Shall Glorify, Coogan lip synching while white powder is manually poured over her, eventually forming a conical pile on her head. Everywhere, shiny, colourful formalwear.
Coogan’s main thing is durational performance, brought nearly mainstream recently by Marina Abramovic. But she seems to believe that these performances can communicate after the fact, through pixels, as she’s invested her site with plentiful documentation: pictures, videos, writings.
I concur. We haven’t seen any of this live yet, and have juuuust missed the Yellow premiere. But I will be thinking about explaining the sea to an uneaten potatoe for a while (above, thanks kDamo).
Chinoiserie, oil and acrylic on canvas, 2007
I’ve read some interesting texts on representation lately. One of them was the thoughts of Mark Tansey, from at least eighteen years ago, in Arthur Danto’s Mark Tansey: Visions and Revisions. The other was by Alicia Paz, on her website, linked below. Paz says that her current practice is about exploring the tension between illusion and process. You probably get a sense of the illusion side of that battle from the image above. It’s not like any place you’ve been before, admit it. For a better sense of the process side, click it and you should have a slightly better view of the assembly that’s deliberately on display.
That’d be Laurie Anderson playing her Viophonograph in days of yore. Wait now: in 1976, to be precise, before the watchful photographic eye of Bob Bielecki. She is one of the many awe-inspiring names on the list of Duke’s Nasher Museum’s vinylphile show “The Record” planned for 2010/11. Christian Marclay and Ed Ruscha are a couple of others. You now have just under a year to plan your attendance at the opening, or if that date is already blocked out on your calendar, you will have six months more to at least get in to see the show.
I hesitate to put this in Distracted, as it should be a focus:) Inspiration Room includes some good info around this, as usual.
The movie, while not exactly schlongfull, does contain 100% more schlong than the trailer. But I am misleading you as to the greatest virtue of this movie. The Man Who Fell To Earth? Endless marvelosity. And the pee shooting out of the pink microdress! Movies I felt, at least for a moment, while watching this: Logan’s Run, Easy Rider, L’eclisse, Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant. I guarantee if you try to tally your favorite visuals in this thing, you will lose count.
I can tell from this Jasper Walking series. I went to her site to learn more about her Flickr moons and suns, and the next thing I know I’m removed from time, just walking right along with Jasper, loving walking, loving seasons, loving neighbourhoods, loving Jasper, occasionally wondering about the endlessness of the series of images, wondering but not worrying because I have been released from time, and then not even wondering anymore and just click click click walking with Jasper.
Lucky, 2010 © Jessica Joslin
There is a school of thought which maintains that everyone has some special ability. Obviously, I have no idea whether or not that is true. One thing I do know, Jessica Joslin’s experience of flea markets and antique shops is different than mine. I see antlers, casters, saxophone. She sees Lucky (pictured) and his pals (link below). If that’s not enough, she can actually realize that vision.
Something else you can’t know without asking, but that I am comfortably imagining, is that Jessica Joslin enjoys Barbara Gowdy‘s writing.