Appropriating Hitler: The Chapman Brothers

Today one of my students was telling me about a comparatively recent exhibition by brothers Jake and Dinos Chapman. Titled If Hitler Had Been a Hippy How Happy Would We Be, the exhibition ran at the White Cube gallery during May 2008. In preparation for this show, the Chapman brothers bought several watercolors by Hitler. Then, the two brothers painted the backgrounds of Hitler's watercolors with rainbows, smiley faces, floating hearts, and psychedelic skies.

This idea of appropriating the work of another artist is nothing new to the contemporary art scene. When hearing about this exhibition by the Chapman brothers, I was immediately reminded of John Fekner's X Americana X series (1985), in which Fekner painted over "found" kitsch paintings.

But this exhibition by the Chapmans is different than Fekner's series. Why? Well, because it's Hitler's art. The Chapman brothers insist that they are not trying to profit from Hitler's notoriety with their exhibition, but simply try to explore Hitler's psychology. Personally, I think that first claim is ridiculous. Of course these artists are trying to get attention and profit because of the connection with Hitler - there's no way around that fact. If they were purely interested in the "psychology of the artist," I think they could have explored that idea without publicizing Hitler's name. Granted, Hitler does need recognition for his contribution to the show. And yes, the psychological connection with Hitler is terribly interesting. But one can consider the "psychology of the artist" with pure visual elements, without knowing who created the work of art.

As you can imagine, this exhibition caused quite a bit of controversy. Some find Chapman's work to be unethical and unrespectful, while others feel like Hitler's art deserves to be defaced. You can get a sense of some previous discussions on the topic here.

Personally, I don't have a problem with these paintings being "tweaked" by the Chapman brothers. (But I know this reaction is because I'm not that excited about Hitler's artwork in the first place.) I would have been bothered if Chapmans additions had defaced the bulk of Hitler's compositions and figures, but that doesn't seem to be the case. The work of the original artist is still there, but the context and meaning has changed.

What do others think?

Destroying Art in the Name of Art

I've been thinking about Alexander Brener lately. You may have heard of him: he's the Russian performance artist who in 1997 painted a green dollar sign over Malevich's Suprematism (White Cross) (see left). Brener claimed that his gesture was protesting the role of money in the art world. The media coverage focused on the monetary damage done to the painting (which was valued at €6 million), which Brener said exactly proved his point.¹.

Other artists have also decided to destroy or manipulate another work of art in order to make an artistic statement or protest. If you're interested in seeing some examples, I would recommend that you read this fascinating post. The author mentions several examples of art destruction (including the story of Mark Bridger, who spilled black ink into one of Damien Hirst's formaldehyde tanks). I learned from this post that a couple of artists have urinated on/in Duchamp's Fountain at different times in the past two decades. Ha! I think that idea might have been clever the first time, but the repeated attempts seems a little silly.

Obviously, such destructive artistic statements go against the ethics and standards for societal conduct. But this has got me thinking: should art be ethical? I can't bring myself to completely say yes or no. But I don't think it's right to encourage unethical or criminal behavior among artists. (Or do such artists think that they are exempt from the societal rules and constraints? If so, then someone should break the news that postmodernism doesn't embrace the "artist as genius" mentality.)

But, all that being said, I do have to admit one thing: such destruction can make me think about a work of art from a new perspective. And that's one of the things that I like most about art.

What do you think? Should art be ethical?

1 Don Thompson, The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics of Contemporary Art (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), 184.

Prendergast's "Lost"

In honor of the upcoming season finale for LOST, I thought it would be appropriate to highlight a work of art that shares the same title as the TV series.  Kathy Prendergast's Lost (1999) is a digital print that depicts a map of the United States.  The map points out all of the actual towns in the United States that contain the word "lost."  Every other city and place in the country has been excluded from this map, as you can see from a detail below:

Curator Mel Watkin pointed out that this interesting omission of every mappable location (and consequent focus on "lost" places) implies some interesting questions: "Are we lost?  Are they lost?  Or is [Prendergast]?"¹

So, could we relate Prendergast's map to the TV show?  My only thought is that this map visually asserts why LOST has been such a popular show in the US - apparently we're obsessed with the idea of being lost, since so many places are named accordingly.  If you can think of other relationships between Prendergast and the TV show, feel free to post them in the comments section.  I'll crown the person with the wittiest answer (and accurate prediction for the finale) as the winner.

1 Mel Watkin, Terra Incognita: Contemporary Artists' Maps and Other Visual Organizing Systems (Saint Louis: Contemporary Art Museum, 2001), n. p. An exhibition brochure.

The $12 Million Stuffed Shark

When I worked in the museum industry several years ago, one of my bosses was heavily involved in the art auction business (in addition to his responsibilities at our museum). This boss worked as an on-call consultant for a major auction house, and would often tell me stories about the dog-eat-dog attitude within the art market. I remember one story that involved an auctioneer who fell into a coughing fit at the climax of one lot sale, but it quickly became apparent that he was stalling for time: there was an agent on the phone who was working to secure a higher bid for the painting.

Anyhow, I think that listening to these stories piqued my interest in the art market, which is why I wanted to read Don Thompson's book, The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics of Contemporary Art. The book discusses the everything you wanted to know about the art market: auction houses, prices for art, art as an investment, galleries and dealers, etc.

I thought the first few chapters of this book was really fascinating. Thompson related some interesting anecdotes about contemporary artists and art sales, including an interesting story about Damien Hirst's The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living (1991). Thompson relates how the original shark in Hirst's tank was not preserved properly, and by the time the work of art went for sale, the shark was not in good condition: one of the fins had fallen off and the skin had become green and wrinkly. Worse still, the formaldehyde had become rather murky. Nonetheless, the deteriorated shark and tank sold for $12 million! (Hirst later agreed to replace the original shark with a new one.)¹

I have to admit, though, the middle of the book was rather uninteresting. Thompson focused a lot of auction prices and technicalities. I think this information would be very useful to anyone who is interested in buying or selling art, but it wasn't very compelling from a historical standpoint. Perhaps I shouldn't have set my expectations too high - I knew that Thompson was an economist (and not an art historian) when I started to read the book.

The ending of the book completely redeemed itself, though. Thompson devoted a whole chapter to how art crime (especially forgeries) affect the art market. One interesting story was from May 2000, when Christie's and Sotheby's realized that their most recent auction catalogs were offering the exact same painting for sale, Gauguin's Vase de Fleurs (Lilas), 1885.

Obviously, one of the paintings had to be a fake. The auction houses showed the works to a specialist, and it was later determined that Christie's was selling the copy. The FBI ended up getting involved and a complex art scandal was unearthed that involved Ely Sakhai, the owner of the original Gauguin painting.

Anyhow, I don't know if I'll read this book again, but I think it is a good resource for the art world. I'd recommend this book to anyone who is seriously interested in buying or selling contemporary art.

This is my last book for heidenkind's Art History Challenge.

1 Don Thompson, The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics of Contemporary Art (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), 2, 63.

Maya Lin and "Eleven Minute Line"

Last week, I heard Maya Lin speak at the university where I work. Her lecture was uncannily appropriate, since I had planned for my students to learn about Lin last week (before realizing that she was coming to speak). Minutes after the lecture began, I had two distinct impressions: 1) Lin is extremely tired of speaking about the Vietnam War Memorial and 2) Lin has a lot of flexibility in her career, since she established fame and recognition so early in life. Really, because Lin already has public attention and a fan base, she can create whatever she wants; she isn't like many other contemporary artists, who seem to feel the need to be shocking or controversial in order to get attention.

One of my favorite parts of the lecture was when Lin discussed her ideas behind her earth art Eleven Minute Line (2004). This squiggly line is 1600 feet long and 12 feet high. And here's the awesome part: it's located in a cow pasture in Sweden. The first time I saw Lin's piece, it immediately reminded me of the Serpent Mound (c. 1070 AD) in Adams County, Ohio (shown below). The Serpent Mound is the largest effigy structure in the United States, and it is thought to have been built by the the Fort Ancient people. (It was originally thought that the structure was built in prehistoric times, but carbon dating of the mound revealed a much later date.)

My suspicions regarding the connection between Eleven Minute Line and the Serpent Mound were confirmed during Lin's lecture. The artist is from Ohio, and she has always been struck with the story of the Serpent Mound. When Europeans came to America and discovered the Serpent Mound, they concluded that an earlier group of Europeans must have made the structure and then traveled back to the Old World. Basically, these European explorers could not conceive that Native Americans could have built something so complex and monumental. Lin decided add a subtle element of irony with Eleven Minute Line by turning the tables a bit: she brought a design that was inspired from the New World back to the Old World (i.e. Sweden).

It was a real privilege to hear such a well-known artist speak. I was glad that she discussed her more recent art, too. Are you familiar with Maya Lin's work (aside from the Vietnam War Memorial)? I think her interests in environmental/landscape issues are really interesting.

Work of Art: The Next Great Artist

Have you heard about the new reality show, "Work of Art: The Next Great Artist"?  Yes, my friends, the world of reality TV has decided to pay attention to the visual arts.  This is a reality show which aims to unearth the talent of a new artist.  I just found out about this show on Edward Winkleman's recent blog post, and I don't quite know what to think.  On one hand, I think it might give exposure and generate more interest in non-traditional forms of art.  By and large, and I would say that the general public defines art as traditional mediums like painting and sculpture.  Perhaps something like this show would help people to appreciate relatively newer types of art, such as performance art, video art, etc.  It looks like the artists dabble in lots of different mediums (as indicated on their bios), but I wonder what types of art they will be allowed/required to create on the show.

I also wonder how this show will dispel or encourage the myth of the "artist as genius."  Will these people seem like everyday Joe Schmoes, or will the producers want to play up the angle that these artists are unique, creative individuals that are different from ordinary people?  Will viewers accept it if "the next great artist" is just the girl next door?  It will be interesting to see.

Do you think this show could have an effect on the art world?

If you're interested, you can see a sneak preview here:

Kehinde Wiley and His Inspiration

I love when contemporary artists use historical art for inspiration. Kehinde Wiley is one such artist, who often creates portraits of African-American men in poses that mimic specific portraits from the 17th-19th centuries. Since Wiley's portraits show African-American in the latest hip hop street fashion, the portraits provide interesting commentary on fashion, identity, and propaganda. It's also interesting to see how issues of identity (and the creation of identity via portraiture) have existed for centuries, especially when examining the historical paintings which inspired Wiley. Here are two of my favorite Wiley paintings (and the paintings that inspired them):

Kehinde Wiley, Prince Tommaso Francesco of Savoy-Carignano, 2006

See the portrait which inspired Wiley below:

Anthony Van Dyck, Prince Tommaso Francesco of Savoy-Carignano, 1634

Kehinde Wiley, Equestrian Portrait of Philip II, 2009

This portrait by Wiley is a little different, in that he doesn't depict Michael Jackson wearing hip hop street clothes. Jackson actually commissioned this portrait in 2008, but never saw the completed work. J thinks that the inclusion of the cherubs (instead of the angel in the Ruben's painting which inspired Wiley, as shown below) is fitting, given that Jackson was accused of sexually abusing children. I really doubt that Wiley intended to make that reference, but it's an interesting thought. The painting was finished after Jackson's death in 2009 and sold that same year to German collector for $175,000. My favorite thing about this portrait is that it depicts Jackson at the height of his career. I think the armor and pose totally scream "I'm bad, I'm bad, you know it!" Man, you can't help but love MJ's early stuff. He was the Prince of Pop, and a royal equestrian portrait is fitting. Anyhow, you can read more about this portrait here and here.

Rubens, Philip II on Horseback, c. 1628-29

I have to admit, I think Rubens has created a lot more powerful horses than the one in this painting. Wiley's horse has a lot more presence than the one shown here. Maybe the puny horse accounts for why this portrait is not very well-known. Anyhow, if you're interested, the Prado Museum has some discussion about the restoration of this portrait here.

You can see more of Wiley's work on his website and read a little bit more about him on this page of the National Portrait Gallery's site. What do you think of Wiley's portraits? Do you think they raise interesting questions about identity and personal image?

(e, do you remember when you saw L L Cool J's portrait by Wiley (2005) in the NPG? I found out this evening that both L L Cool J and Wiley wanted the portrait to recall John Singer Sargent's portrait of Rockefeller (1917). Pretty cool, huh? Who would have guessed that L L Cool J was familiar with Sargent? Even though I think the green and red pattern in the Wiley portrait is a a little too visually aggressive, I love that the painting recalls a Sargent portrait.)

Libera's LEGO Concentration Camp

Zbigniew Libera's LEGO Concentration Camp, 1996

Next week my new students will learn a little bit about Zbigniew Libera's project LEGO Concentration Camp (1996). Libera worked with the LEGO corporation to create a seven box set of different buildings within a concentration camp. Although much of the set contained LEGO materials, some of the faces of the guards and prisoners were manipulated with paint (to suggest expressions of sadness or glee). The last box of the set was full of personal objects and possessions, inspired by the loots that were taken from prisoners during the period.

Unsurprisingly, there was a lot of controversy around this project. You can read a little bit more about the controversy and background of the project in this article (start about 1/3 of the way down the page). Even LEGO launched legal complaints against the artist.

In some ways, it seems like "anything goes" in relation to contemporary art, especially when it comes to readymade/found objects. Today artists seem to scramble for any kind of readymade/found object that hasn't been used (or hasn't been used in a certain way). Libera's work is an example of how nothing can be considered taboo in the contemporary art scene, not only in its readymade medium but also in subject matter.

What do you think of Libera's work and idea? To be honest, I haven't completely made up my own mind. I fluctuate between being offended and feeling that Libera is bringing attention to the Holocaust in a creative way. The thing I don't like to envision, though, is the possibility of little children playing with a LEGO set like this one. And I think that reminder of childhood innocence is part of Libera's point.

(e, I know that Libera's sets were only available in a limited edition. Does the Holocaust Museum own any of the sets?)

Howard Hodgkin

Apparently I'm out-of-touch with the British contemporary art scene. Last night I was watching a clip from Simon Schama's "Power of Art" series (don't hate me, heidenkind!), and Schama mentioned that the artist Howard Hodgkin is of Van Gogh's "progeny" (in terms of Expressionism).

I had to rewind the DVD - Howard who?

Howard Hodgkin. You know, one of the foremost British painters today. [Silence.]

So, in order to educate myself, I looked up some of Hodgkin's work this evening. Part of me wonders if I have seen his stuff before, since he has painted scenery for the Mark Morris Dance Group. Anyhow, here are some of Hodgkin's paintings that I particularly liked:

Howard Hodgkin, Night and Day, 1997-99
This painting was exhibited in 2006 with an exhibition of Hodgkin's work at the Tate Modern


Howard Hodgkin, Memories, 1997-99
You can read more about this painting here. I think it's particularly interesting that Hodgkin often paints his frames (in addition to the canvas). I think this can tie into interesting ideas about objecthood and subjecthood, particuarly since the frame is no longer "containing" or "highlighting" the painting - it is part of the painting itself.


Howard Hodgkin, Curtain, 2002-07
I like this painting because it makes me think, "What would happen if you combined a Rothko painting with Edward Munch's The Scream?" And I also like the bits of blue that peek out from underneath the black swath of color.

Have you heard of Hodgkin before? Which of his works do you particularly like?

Banksy + Degas = Simon Cowell

If someone asked me to guess American Idol judge Simon Cowell's taste in art, I probably would have named something sensible, marketable, and creative - maybe some work by an abstract expressionist painter like Morris Louis. But my guess would have been way off.

Cowell, who reportedly is a secret art collector, is known to be a fan of the Impressionist painter Degas and the graffiti artist Banksy (yikes - what a combination!). I just read here that for Christmas this year, Cowell received a commissioned work by Banksy - and the painting is a remake of Degas' The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage (c. 1874, shown above). Apparently, in this Bansky commission, Cowell has been painted in the scene as the ballet master.

Gulp. I like Degas, but I really question how this Banksy commission turned out. It sounds rather horrific.

So what kind of critique did Cowell give his Christmas present? According to sources, the judge looked at the painting and immediately called it "hilarious." What a news flash - I guess Simon Cowell has a sense of humor! And in true Cowell fashion, this is an expensive sense of humor: this "hilarious" painting is estimated to cost $800,000. That's a lot of money for a joke.

Favorite Christmas Art

Christmas art = a smorgasbord. There is so much art associated with Christmas. I would bet there there are over a million different depictions that are associated with the biblical Christmas story. Here are a couple of pieces of Christmas art that I particularly like:

Jan van Eyck, The Annunciation, c. 1435
My favorite thing about this painting: the awesome rainbow wings on the angel Gabriel. I also love the that Gothic and Renaissance references are combined in the same architectural setting, references the Old and New Testament.

Georges de la Tour, Adoration of the Shepherds, c. 1644
I particularly love the hand on the right which covers up a candle. Sigh - tenebristic lighting is awesome. I also love the adoring expression of the man on the right.

Brian Kershisnik, Nativity, 2006
You HAVE to click on the image above to see all of the details in this painting. I saw Nativity a few years ago, soon after it was completed. This painting is HUGE (about 7' x 17'), and the viewer can't help but feel swept into the swarm of angels that swoop around the Holy Family. It's quite moving.

Do you have a favorite piece of Christmas art?

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Liu Bolin, the Invisible Artist

Look closely at this photograph - can you see the man who blends into the background? That man is the artist Liu Bolin. He paints himself to "hide" within his photographs. I just watched this interesting newsclip about Bolin and his work. I think it's pretty creative stuff. You can read more about the ideology that underlies Bolin's art (and see more pictures of his work) in this article.

I like how these photographs emphasize the idea that a person is affected by his/her surroundings. I latch onto that idea more than any of the political ideas that influence Bolin, although I think that his artistic/political protest makes sense.

What do you think?

Found Objects and Conceptual Poetry

The idea of taking found objects and creating "ready-made" sculptures began with Marcel Duchamp in 1913 with his Bicycle Wheel. Duchamp's most famous "ready-made" is his Fountain (1917, shown left). It's no surprise that this piece (yep, that's a urinal!) was rejected for exhibition.

I think found object art is really interesting. It's fun to look at an everyday object as art - it gives the object new meaning and interpretation. I also like that found objects often can cause someone to look for aesthetic value and beauty in something that is ordinary. Granted, I don't find a lot of aesthetic beauty in Duchamp's Fountain, but I do like to think about how the sculptural form and physical presence of the urinal parallels sculptures which follow a more Classical tradition. (The white urinal even mimics the white marble of Roman/Renaissance statues! Ha!)

Artists still make pieces from "ready-mades" and found objects. I've already written about the contemporary artist Jean Shin, who uses old castaway objects for her artistic projects. Another interesting artist is Stuart Hayworth. The original prototype for this chandelier on the right (Millenium, 2004) was created out of party poppers that were used for the New Year's celebration for the year 2000. You should look check out Hayworth's other work on his website - he has a lot of interesting, fun, and beautiful stuff.

I like thinking about how other art forms have picked up on the idea of found objects. For example, conceptual poetry (a relatively new trend) takes something that has already been written and reuses the material to generate a new poem. This podcast by the Poetry Foundation discusses how conceptual poetry is similar to Duchamp's idea of "ready-made" art, but poets are about a hundred years behind visual artists when it comes to this artistic trend (listen at 34:44).

For an example of a conceptual poem, listen to the one at about 23:17 on the podcast. This poem was written from words that were used for the September 11, 2001 edition of the New York Times (the edition that was written before the attacks took place that morning). It's interesting to listen to words that are so mundane and ordinary, but also charged and poignant due to the impending disaster.

If you're interested, you can read more about conceptual poetry here.

What do you think of art from found objects? Isn't it interesting that poetry is following this same trend? I love to compare how different artistic ideas develop within various art forms. For example, musicians also latched onto the idea of taking existing sounds and turning them into music - John Cage is probably the quintessential example for this musical trend. (And check out this relatively recent article of a musician that's turning street sounds into music!) Conceptual poetry is a century late in following what visual artists and musicians already have done, but I wonder if Hegel would still view conceptual poetry as part of the Geist of the 20th century. Or maybe not? Perhaps poetry is moving along with its own Geist? :)

What Old/Castaway Object Embodies You?

I think it's cool that Jean Shin's sculptures and installations are made out of castaway objects. Her work on the right, Chemical Balance (2005), is made with prescription bottles, mirrors, and epoxy. Other sculptures are made out of broken umbrellas, old lottery tickets, worn shoes, etc. You should check out Shin's work on her website - it's really neat. I really like her Sound Wave (2007, made out of records) and Worn Soles (2001).

This month's edition of Smithsonian has an interview with Shin (to promote the show "Jean Shin: Common Threads" that is at the Smithsonian American Art Museum until this coming Sunday (July 26)). During the interview, Shin mentioned how she collects objects from people, starting with her friends and family members. The interviewer brought up the point that Shin's sculptures can be seen as group portraits. Shin mentioned how she views each object as part of an individual's history and identity, and she wants her work to "embod[y] people's lives."

I really like the idea of Shin's work as group portraits. It made me think about what kind of objects could be considered as my own portrait. I thought of all the buttons in my sewing box. They are all of the extra buttons that came with the different shirts, pants, and shorts that I have owned. Some of the clothing has been long-gone, but I've never taken any of the old buttons out of my stash. I guess if there was a Jean Shin-esque sculpture made as my portrait, it could be of buttons.

What about you? What old/castaway objects could be your portrait? What works by Shin do you like?

Chuck Close's Wheelchair Painting

Many art history students are introduced to Chuck Close's art with this painting:

Big Self Portrait, 1967-1968

Close is really interesting because of his painting theories and technique. Instead of just transferring a photograph into paint on a canvas, Close thinks that painting is a systematic and intellectual exercise. His work is not just about transferring images - he is transferring "photographic information into painted information").¹ I think it's especially interesting that this systematic approach can be further seen in Close's choice of large-scale canvases - they are basically same size (9' x 7').² Although he is best described as a photorealist, this interest in systematic and intellectual art makes Close a little different from his colleagues.

Anyhow, a conversation last night reminded me that Close's later work is stylistically different from his early portraits. In 1988, a collapsed spinal artery left Close nearly paralyzed. Luckily, he has been able to continue painting from his wheelchair with a brush strapped to his partially mobile hand. Although Close was veering towards a more lively style before 1988, his current condition ensures that he cannot paint in the meticulous manner required for his early style. Personally, though, I really like Close's later work. It's dynamic and interesting. I also think that it's fun to zoom in on Close's later paintings until the portraits are unrecognizable; they become a myriad of colorful, stylized swirls and whorls.

You can see how much Close's style has changed by looking at this self portrait:

Self Portrait, 1997

I think it's really awesome that Close has been able to continue his career and artistic vision (he even continues to paint on large-scale canvases!). You can watch a video of him working below (and read more of the CBS story here).


Watch CBS Videos Online

Pretty impressive stuff, huh? Which Chuck Close style do you like more? His early style or later style? Or neither?

1 Fred S. Kleiner and Christin J. Mamiya, Gardner's Art Through the Ages, 12th ed., vol. 2 (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 2005), 1056 (italics added for emphasis).

2 Ibid.

Candida Höfer's Brazil

I first became familiar with the photographer Candida Höfer through her solo exhibition "Architecture of Absence." Höfer is particularly interested in photographing public interiors at times when they are devoid of people. I think it's interesting to see a public place when it is public-less. I really like how the space is magnified within the photographs. In a kind of oxymoronish way, Höfer's work makes absence become a presence.

Anyhow, while I was looking for some images on a Brazilian Baroque church, I stumbled across a few photographs from Höfer's Brazilian series. The image above, Teatro Nacional de São Carlos Lisboa I (2005), is another Brazilian photograph by Höfer. Since I found out that Höfer is interested in Brazilian architecture and public spaces, she's a million times cooler to me. (And she was cool already.) Nice.

Washer Women

I think everyone has some kind of dream in which their worst fears are realized. Apparently, my worst fear revolves around being unprepared to teach an art history lecture. Last night, I dreamed that I went to go visit my past professors at my alma mater. It was the first day of summer term, and I discovered upon arrival that I was slated to teach a course that began that very afternoon! The title of the course seminar was "Washer Women in Art," and it was supposed to cover all the extant depictions of laundresses. I started to scramble around campus, trying to find materials for the class, but I couldn't think of any paintings to include in the slide list. I kept thinking, "I can't think of any paintings of washer women," and "If any paintings exist, they probably are Dutch from the 17th century."

Needless to say, I woke up in a panic.

Naturally, I had to find out today if there are any paintings of laundresses. And there are. A lot. (Though not really any Dutch ones from 17th century, much to my subconscious' chagrin!) Here are a couple of my favorites:

Chardin, The Laundress, 1733
This book points out how the laundress does not wear a hoop skirt or any of the other fashionable clothing of the Rococo period - Chardin was interested in painting the domestic life of an ordinary French woman.

Greuze, The Laundress, 1761
Denis Diederot said of the laundress in this painting, "She's a rascal I wouldn't trust an inch." The Getty has published a whole book about this painting, comparing this provocative laundress to other paintings of laundresses by Greuze.

Camille Pissarro, Washer Woman, 1880

Martin Driscoll, The Washer WomanI was not familiar with this contemporary artist before my quest to find laundress paintings, but I think this work is very nice. You can look at more of Driscoll's paintings on his website.
Degas, Laundresses Carrying Linen in Town, c. 1876-78

Degas, Women Ironing (Les Rapasseuses), also called "The Laundresses," 1884

Most paintings of laundresses come from the 19th century Impressionists, and I've included a few of them above. (I left out this hideous one by Renoir, click on the link only if you dare.) It makes sense that the Impressionists would be interested in laundresses; they liked subject matter that revolved around French urban life.

Really, there probably are enough paintings of laundresses that one could hold a couple of classes on the subject (though probably not for the length of a term). Unfortunately, I haven't found a lot of scholarship on laundress paintings. I wonder if this subject matter would appeal to feminist art historians.

Has anyone else ever had a panic dream involving art history? If it also involves washer women and laundresses, we must be twins separated at birth.

Transforming the Book

Last weekend I went to this really fantastic exhibition at the Bellevue Arts Museum (BAM). All of the artists in this exhibition create their art out of printed books and book covers. Using books as a medium for sculptures gives new definition to the word "volume," doesn't it?

I particularly liked this work on the left, Petra, by Guy Laramée (2007). I've always thought Petra was a fascinating place (I've even blogged about it here, where you can see a picture of the actual treasury that inspired Laramée). Another work in the show by Laramée consisted of two rows of stacked Encyclopedia Brittanicas, with one side of each row carved like a canyon. (You can see a picture of the piece and an artist statement here).

There was also a striking work by the Scottish artist Georgia Russell. Most of Russell's works involve cutting books, book covers, and photographs. The one shown here, Leurs Secrets (2007) is similar to the one in the BAM's show. You can see more of Russell's work here.

The exhibition also had some "excavated books" by James Allen. I thought this one, Churches of our Fathers (2007) was especially beautiful and striking.

You really should check out Jennifer Shoshbin's altered books too. A few of these were in the show too. Her style and idea are an interesting mixture of vintage and contemporary, which is really fun.

It was interesting to go to this show and think about the history of books and print. My husband is a graphic designer, and we often have talked about the demise of printed books and printed material. I wonder how long it will take for most books to be produced online or through digital format (which is sad, since I love holding books and flipping through their pages). In a way, using books as an artistic medium in this show (and placing those books in a museum, the place where artifacts are preserved) seemed to historicize printed books even more. And some of the words used to describe the art (e.g. "excavated") further antiquated the book medium. Although I loved this show (I would wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who lives in the Seattle area), I also couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for the future of books and printed material.

What do you think about these artists and their works? What do you think about the demise of printed books?

W. J. T. Mitchell Lecture

Last night I went to Seattle University to hear W. J. T. Mitchell speak. I remember studying writings by Mitchell as a grad student, and I was intrigued by his lecture title, "The War of Images: 9/11 to the Present." The lecture was interesting and I was struck by Mitchell's persona; he was approachable and seemed to be constantly thinking and reviewing new ideas.

A large part of Mitchell's work revolves around the discussion of words and images - how words and images are different, what words are used to describe images, etc. I was not surprised in this lecture, therefore, to see that Mitchell was interested in the examining the word "terror" and the metaphoric war that is currently being waged on the emotion signified by that word. (How are you supposed to fight an emotion?)

During the lecture Mitchell showed many pictures that have been distributed and displayed as a result from the "war on terror." I was living out-of-the-country when the Abu Grahib photos began to emerge, so I had to read a little more about them after the lecture. These images of prisoners being tortured and abused led to an internal investigation within the US Army. It is thought by many that this "Hooded Man" depiction will always be remembered as the iconic photograph for the war in Iraq:

Mitchell showed different places and instances where this Abu Ghraib photograph has emerged and reemerged as part of the discourse on the war. As a counter-message, reproductions of the "Hooded Man" appeared in a silkscreen format that parodies the current iPod ads:

Mitchell briefly suggested that in addition to decrying the war in these iRaq posters, another counter-message is created by referencing the iPod - the iPod is related to self-pleasure. Although we didn't end up discussing any narratives or ideas created by this contradicting image of self-pleasure and torture, I think it's an interesting idea. (Does anyone want to further this idea or suggest a narrative?) In addition to self-pleasure, I think that the iPods also embody self-absorption; one seems to shut out the world when iPod buds are in their ears. It's interesting to think about this poster in regards to the criticisms of self-absorption that have been heaped upon the Bush administration and America since the inception of this war.

I was surprised that Mitchell showed only a few pictures of Saddam Hussein, not for political reasons but for historical comprehensiveness (my bias as a historian is apparent!). The first photograph, shown right at the beginning of the lecture, was an equestrian statue of Hussein. As a historian, I think of the equestrian statue tradition as connected with antiquity. I wondered if by selecting this photograph Mitchell was historicizing Hussein's role in the war, perhaps suggesting that Hussein's role in the war is dated and passé, like this statuary tradition. I also thought this equestrian statue seemed very irrelevant and out-of-place with the other images shown in the presentation; the other images were more contemporary and often used Photoshop technology. It was interesting to think about what kind of statements about the war and Hussein's role could be derived from a "dated" and perhaps "irrelevant" image. Interestingly, though, the last image in the presentation was also of Saddam Hussein, this time a photograph of the leader soon after his capture. By depicting Saddam's medical examination by an Army doctor, I think this photograph was supposed to show the concern of the Americans for their prisoner. However, Mitchell pointed out that this photograph actually a degrading and humiliating depiction of Saddam:

It didn't take long for people to criticize the American government through this photograph. In Mitchell's presentation, a caption included with this photo (no doubt found by Mitchell on the internet, but I can't find where), said "The search for weapons of mass destruction continues..."

I felt like this was a fitting photograph for the end of the lecture. Since I felt the inclusion of the equestrian statue dated and historicized Saddam, I liked that Mitchell included an active, more contemporary photograph of Saddam at the end of the presentation. Although Saddam was not responsible for the 9/11 attacks, I felt that his historical role with the (ongoing) Iraq invasion was better represented with this final photograph. To me, it was appropriate to view this photograph and caption while Mitchell explained that the war on terror (and the war of images) still continues today.

Kershisnik and the Primary Experience

Last week I went to a couple of sessions of an art symposium. The invited guest speaker was the artist Brian Kershisnik, a local artist whom I find to be quite talented. During his speech, Kershisnik mentioned that he finds it important for painting to be self-aware. In other words, the painting should manifest awareness that it is a painting, awareness that it is a flat canvas which contains representations of objects with the medium of paint. This self-awareness of painting can especially be observed in Kershisnik's style, since his figures are very flat. In this painting, Gardening in the Rain, the flatness of the figure (and subsequently, the flatness of the canvas) is further emphasized by the pattern on the woman's dress and the stylized depiction of falling rain.

During a Q & A session, I asked Kershisnik to further discuss his ideas regarding the self-awareness of painting. He said something interesting, which I can't quote verbatim (my notes are already packed away!) but it went something like this:

I am interested in one having a primary experience with painting and not a surrogate experience.

In other words, Kershisnik aims to have a viewer of his work aware that he/she is standing in front of a canvas that is covered with paint. In my opinion, this aim is in contrast to many realist painters who hope that the viewer is able to place himself/herself within the painting and have a surrogate experience with the work of art ("I feel like I'm actually there!" kind of idea). With a primary experience, however, I think that one is completely external to the painting and aware of his/her present surroundings.

I think that this escapist/surrogate experience has its own place within the world of art, but I think that I generally prefer the primary experience. I love looking at the tactility of the paint (hooray for impasto!) and observing the artist's "hand" through the movement of the brushstrokes.

What do you prefer? A primary experience? A surrogate experience? A mixture of the two? In some ways, I like having a mixture of the two paradigms (I love to be swept away in the drama of Baroque subject matter), but I think I lean a little bit more heavily on the primary experience over the surrogate.