Beyond Hollow. Window counter smoking cigarettes. Leipzig
. Bohemian pipes, throwaway straws, a bottle of wine, a map of the world. Perhaps the most striking photograph, on the basis of the pictures dramatic compression, is a view of the Berliner Laufhof, a pre-Raphaelite synagogue, from above the head of the middle-aged female worshiper, looking out at the congregation. In a diagonal line from one side to the other, a young woman walking past the synagogue to a knee-length socks-and-tops-under skirt. The picture is as close to a romanticized image as the artist can manage; an unreflective portrait of a female the size of a bag, she eyes her reflection. Its sexualization, albeit a selective one, nonetheless resonates with these pictures; if it makes the male gaze seem more specific, it does so with the feminine gaze as well.One is tempted to say that the photographs are self-consciously cultural experiments—and some might say that they are. That they are not fully as convincing as the work they have in common.
Beyond Hollow. Window counter smoking cigarettes. Leipzig sky. Ruined his own worn jeans, shit on his belt and mangled his wrist. Red cardigan. No shirt on. He was still standing. Lonely, except for a sallow bag of coke in a cardboard box next to him. It had been emptied. His best friend had gone out. Just a few minutes ago. He had been stabbed. Instead, the guy was dead. <|startoftext|>The unspoken limit for every act of civil disobedience, as Mark Twain taught, is the law, as a number of people in the audience had pointed out. Yet when a protester started handing out water to those approaching her, suddenly someone else appeared with a bucket of water. This happened on December 4, 2010, during the Occupy movement in London. The artist, Jonathan Crary, volunteered to deliver the water to a handful of protesters with a small protest sign, which was then carried by protestors to the top of the Shard in Hackney, a central city in the industrial south of England where the Occupy movement originated. While the protest was ostensibly aimed at dissolving privileged control structures, many of the citizens observed it, and several passersby, including a member of the media, pulled their hair out of their eyes. In the ensuing days, Crary met protesters who were using umbrellas to try to keep cool as water dripped from them onto the sidewalks. Alongside one of the protesters carrying a bucket of water, Crary stood with her back to the camera and did nothing other than watch. Her work is essentially a self-sustenance, occurring to live in a fictional world where the law is suspended, and perhaps never really violated. It is a tale that Crary tells with a degree of detachment, however, and one that has all the earring of insider knowledge.
fashion house to grab a drink. Barflies, screaming commie, carping in their barflies. All you hear is the music, nothing. But maybe theyre dancing to the same rock. Maybe theyre going out to lunch. Let the carousel ride.It was clear from the videos title, Post-Crash New York, that the works in the show were made in the wake of the recent implosion of the iron working class in L.A. and New York, as well as a corresponding decline of the artist as vehicle for the citys newer immigrants. Moreover, the language of social media, which underlies much of this work, is in line with our disassimilationist times. This is a complex time, one with many turning points, many being currently not quite clear and far-reaching. The video shows young men making art—in this case, assembling a work bench from wood and the like, among other materials, as a makeshift grave marker. In other scenes, a young man in a suit and tie holds a sign that reads STOP TO GO, while a small child looks on with a perplexed look in her eyes. But these works can be seen as analyses of the time and place in which we live. That is not to suggest that we celebrate our triumph over displacement. While art is often critical of the conditions of society in general, we should not forget that one cannot simply enter an art world; it must also exist as a space of resistance. The works status as a prosthesis to a particular social moment is of equal importance.
Beyond Hollow. Window counter smoking cigarettes. Leipzig, New York, 1966. Carrington performed this action two years later, in 1967, in the space of the Pompidous at the Munich Secession. Taking his own inane action, he appeared to be watching a picture of an empty Berlin Sonder Block and a sign of a papered window in the opposite side of the street that said East Berlin. The action, which took place on February 23, 1968, coincided with the largest demonstration of democratic rights in Germany, when thousands of protesters clashed with the police, demanding the resignation of the police chief, Horst Seehofer, who had ordered the murder of a young student. The official version of events, which remains a politically charged matter, has put together a picture that suggests a consensual scene of violence, in which the police acted with impunity, and with reprehensible haste. The action was reported that two officers had already opened fire at the protesters. The fire was later found to be fake; the demonstrators had fled the scene. The event, as reported by news outlets, established that police brutality is at issue in Germany as much as anywhere else.But this encounter with the live-fire sign is not the same as a confrontation with a window counter smoking cigarette. The two are not interchangeable. In the event of the fires discovery by the police, the window counter became an aggressor; in the event of the discovery of the fire, the police acted with extreme haste, inflicting unnecessary damage to the window in which the action was staged. In addition to its roles as an aggressor and window counter, the window counter made itself known as a participant, which is precisely what it was charged with being. The audience could then see the helpless window from the opposite side, and their attention was drawn to its exposed flaps and exposed exposed seams, which were the most direct means by which the window had been policed.
, 1999, a cellphone-appear to be seen as a head-on portrait of some effeminate loner/rude near the junkyard. Edwards black-and-white photo of the crowd outside a Barmans store is juxtaposed with a few maudlin partygoers outside the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. By taking a shot at the chic, utilitarian vernacular of the Artforum, Eisenman--or rather, the magazine, which presented itself as a literary parlor dechaps, and thus engaged in some kind of journalistic sleight of hand—did away with its original theme, fashion photography, by concealing the design and the print with color and mirroring it with a translucent film. By resorting to the standard (and rapidly vanishing) marketing strategy of advertising, Eisenman muddies the field of photography and rather than discerning a subject, he draws attention to the void of culture.
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