Melting - pt. 3

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Melting - pt. 2

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Melting

Over the past few months I’ve been working on a series of Melting objects. The project has a simple inspiration – my fear of things falling apart, and my somewhat curious desire to see things fall apart. I think that desire comes out of the same interest in films about conflict and death; one wants to look upon their fears from a safe distance. I can’t help but smile when I see these everyday things losing their shape, their surfaces dripping like candle wax, while they spread out into a homogenous puddle. Yet I know I’m scared of this happening to me and my world; there is the constant awareness in the back of my mind that everything is more fragile than I’d like it to be. Every day I work towards building a better and larger life, and there’s still just as much chance that it will fall apart. So I play with everyday things, always on a small scale, and always in my control.

‘Melting’ continues to be an interesting organic process of falling apart to impose on these rather static objects. It always seems to produce unexpected results; often disgusting and bodily. It is entropic and irreversible, horrifying and yet beautiful.

I’ve been melting calculators, staplers, tape dispensers, and the tape cassette player at the top of this post. I’m somewhat non-committal in terms of the end product. I have remnants of this process that I plan to display as sculptures, but I also have photographs of the events in-process that I intend to display as well. There are aspects of both that I really love.

I’ll be posting more photographs of my Melting series in the coming weeks.

-Steve

Restart

After 14 months of quiet meditation, I’ve decided it’s time to restart my blog. Candidly, I was pursuing it too formally; it’s time to loosen up and let myself enjoy it a little more. Plus, I find myself with both the time to write and the wish to share my thoughts. In the coming days you’ll see a flurry of posts about recent events, art pieces in progress, and stuff I’m into (books, movies, etc.).

Fall is suddenly here. Well, it’s not official quite yet – still summer for another week, but it’s getting cold enough that I’m ready to call it fall.

So what am I up to? I’ve been in my studio, getting a lot done on my Melting series (I hope to post more about that later). It rained all weekend, so Sarah and I spent the Saturday and Sunday holed up in our apartment, watching movies and TV. I also managed to finish Call of Duty 4 (COD4) on my PS3 and spend a little time ravaging the streets in Grand Theft Auto IV (GTAIV) with my friend Craig. In an effort to prepare for the cooler weather while maintaining my suave style, I did some online shopping as well.

Sarah and I did go to a couple of cool places this weekend. For one, we went to Union Pizza up in Evanston , where we met Sarah’s coworkers. Union Pizza is a hip pizza joint, walls stripped bare (literally to concrete and the builders’ spray paint markers) and décor laden with modern furniture. I do believe the pizza was wood-fired. Sarah ordered the Lamb Sausage pizza. I still feel guilty about that. It was really good, but I don’t eat that much meat. I don’t know when I last ate lamb before that. All in all, I recommend the place, but you pay for the designer setting. But you expected that.

We also went to Vega Estates, named for the landlords of my friends Julie and Roxane, who host monthly exhibitions in their apartment’s basement and garage. This recent show is called Tomorrow. The show itself was fine, but sparsely attended in the pouring rain. It featured an architectural video by Marco Kane, composed mostly of still shots inside buildings, a few slow pans, overlaid with trance-like music. The video had an eerie, thoughtful quality that I liked, but as a whole it felt too much like other videos I’d seen before. I can’t tell you who exactly made these other two pieces (as I wasn’t planning to write a review), but I appreciated a pair of diamond shaped paintings – framed with what appeared to be old, very ornate recycled frames. The paintings themselves were half abstract, textured paintings – almost flesh-like, and half bare wood panel. The paintings seemed to be about these contrasts, and had a fetishistic quality to them. In addition there was a pair of photographs, or should I say one photograph duplicated? The image was of a small waterfall, hidden in some tropical forest; it was printed in black and white, duplicated as both the positive and negative version of itself. The point where the water hit the ground was almost figural, but what I liked about this piece was the analytical look at a scrap of paradise. It seemed to long for and question longing for the clandestine locale.

After a rainy Sunday marathon of movies and TV shows, Sarah and I went for a casual walk around our neighborhood. We stopped at the 7 Eleven on Devon , but didn’t end up buying anything because they require a $10 minimum to use a credit card. Having recently learned that it’s against credit card policy to require a minimum for credit card payment, we reported the merchant to MasterCard. Now I understand that it’s inconsiderate to spend fifty cents using your credit card, but ten bucks is a high minimum, and the guy behind the counter was pretty rude to Sarah about it. Hopefully next time we stop by, they will have learned their lesson.

That’s it for today. Tomorrow I hope to post more.

-Steve

Confession Sessions by Carrie MacQuaid

For the past several months Carrie MacQuaid has been wearing printed t-shirts, each listing a different 'guilty pleasure.' The plain grey or white shirts make statements in plain black text like, "I consistently prefer to watch E! news over any real news shows." MacQuaid describes a guilty pleasure as "something that is totally embarrassing but harms no one. It is something you get pleasure out of, but won't want to tell other people for fear of what they might think."

Why would someone want to make a confession like this in public? What stands to be gained or lost? Perhaps it is the possibility or bridging some gap between self and others, making oneself more human and accessible. Self effacement often does just that. Perhaps there is some assumption of superiority when we first meet people that needs to be undermined in order for friendships to be created. Maybe it's just easier to trust someone who makes fun of themself first.

Confessions, especially embarrassing ones, are accompanied by a heightened presumption of honesty. Why would someone lie and say that they love Disney's High School Musical, if they know people are likely to scoff? Why do we expect the truth in confessions?

Beyond this, what is it about our own desire to know about other people's guilty pleasures? Is it just voyeurism or something more?

You can follow Carrie MacQuaid's Confession Sessions at:

http://theconfessionsession.blogspot.com/

Cole Pierce: mixed cd's for everyone

Cole Pierce has been giving away mixed cd's since 2004. He collects music, burns a mix, decorates a case, and leaves small stacks in public.

There's something about creating a mix cd that is intensely personal, even romantic. It's the kind of thing a person usually does for a close friend, family member, or significant other. That someone would do this on a public scale is curious. In the moment when the mixed album is given away, something personal is shared. Taste is perhaps one of the most intimate ways to identify someone and giving someone a collection like this is a way of revealing that hidden identity. A person might be attracted to the idea of a free cd, but the opportunity to take home a piece of a stranger's life may be more compelling. Yet this is also a very anonymous gift. There is no special thread that pre-exists before the cd is given, or taken. It's still a curiousity as to whether the free mixed cd creates this bond or only further emphasizes its absence.

You can learn more about Cole Pierce, and his work on his website and blog:

www.colepierce.com
http://firehydrantsarescary.blogspot.com/

Julie Rudder: artist as host

Julie Rudder is a fellow artist and (in the very near future) graduate of Northwestern. Julie has always been interested in a particular relationship between artist and viewer. Recently that relationship took the form of artist as host- radio host. Julie entered the Public Radio Talent Quest. You can listen to her entry using this link:

http://www.publicradioquest.com/audio/user/9028

Julie has taken on the role of host before, often creating situations that frame social interaction. There's something very interesting about the idea of an artist as a host, even more so as a radio host. Hosts are often the ones in control of a given situation. They say where the party will be, when begins and ends, and who gets invited. The host is the center of the party, but somehow just off stage as well. Hosts are expected to be gracious and a good host is endlessly giving, bending over backwards for guests. The host's connection to power can also be seen when Julie takes on the role of a curator in projects like her upcoming show, The Addition, in which Julie will be presenting videos created by other artists in her garage. But what is it about the radio that's so appealing to her? Perhaps it is the way in which talk itself is the main topic. Yet somehow, when one listens to talk radio, the gentle, clear words offer a window into the soul. The radio doesn't allow the audience to be confused by images. Rather, audio is pumped out in stereo, as if to be as close as possible to an internal monologue.

You can read about Julie Rudder's work on her blog:

http://thebarbeque.blogspot.com/