The art piece, "Mickey", was made on a canvas with acrylic paint to express the progression of Disney's animation of animals over time.
The Mouse figures (part of the Animal series) are slowly drawn over time, like a drawn-over flood. Sometimes the transition from one area of media to the other is smooth, sometimes it takes a while to find a rhythm. At other times, the progressions are unpredictable and hard to follow. The pieces of cloth were folded over the canvas, revealing its surface and allowing it to run off the surface as if in the process of fading. The pieces of cloth were often knotted together in a knot, twisting the piece's spatial existence into a geometric one.Mickey, 1997, is a black-and-white watercolor with a roughly painted surface and an indeterminate, face-shaped curl of paint that widens as one approaches it. The figures' heads seem as precarious as trees. Although the watercolors depths are unknowable, we can infer that the figures are either on the surface, on the edge of the blob, or face-up, in some other position. The images are both impressive and cartoonlike.Mickey is a particularly effective work because it shares certain affinities with the work of Richard Diebenkorn and others, among them with work by Auerbach, Buergel, and Hockney, all of whom examine the expressive potentials of painting. The work has a visually high, pointy quality that suggests the formality of painting and the formal aspects of drawing, as well as the possibility that a figure could be sculpted into the painting. These elements, along with the plays on space, make the imagery more theatrical than formal, and that theatricality is precisely what makes the work memorable.
The artist painted two trees that bore drooping leaves and a furry animal that appeared to be coming from the left; the two trees, as one would expect from Disney, had a motionless quality, and the animal seemed to be jumping through the hoops of time. A video of Mickey appears on a screen of yellow paper with a fragment of Star Wars pop-art silhouettes. The twos—maybe even on the five—deleted from the video at the end of the piece, from which the video could be seen only as a sample on the wall. Near the video was a photograph of a two-headed figure that looks like Mickey. But they are both people, they are of different heights, and this was an obvious rejection of the notion of time for a video that would present an experience of time that is linear. These pieces suggest that the allure of Disney's world lies in its new-found specificity, in the collision of numerous time zones and divergent moments. In the world of public places where the concept of time comes up, the loss of the temporal is permanent. The artist herself has expressed concern for our tendency to attempt to move our awareness of the new to the fourth dimension by defining it as in order to escape a distance. In this way, the work demonstrates an intuition of the persuasive power of a simple metonymic link. Others involved with the piece included a group of Russian commentators who commented on the cultural tension between figures who are considered kingly figures and ones who do not. In the gallery, their dialogue gave a touch of the immediacy of the video or the palpable presence of a person in a state of dialogue with another. This approach, like Mickey's, lacks a precise sense of meaning. A video by an artist already exists in an eternal state of transmission that can be experienced on infinite wavelengths, without being perceived as an instance of communication. All, at least, is not what it appears to be.
The art piece, "Mickey", was made on a canvas with acrylic paint to express the progression of Disney's animation of animals over time. A video component, as well as a digital presentation on a digital video-portrait system, was also on display, and the video was projected onto a wall with a small video monitor embedded in it. The piece, in which Mickey transitions from golden to red to yellow, was accompanied by an animation of a stroller in his surroundings that goes into a nonchalant dream sequence, juxtaposed with an animated mouse. The artists used both methods of translating a human figure into drawings, as well as gestures from Disney that go beyond the human. In their introduction to the exhibition, Szeemann explains, The idea of animation is a reflection of the environment we inhabit; our technological environment is an essential part of it. The use of the mechanical and the technical media to communicate will always be connected to a particular society and people, but in Szeemann's work the incorporation of elements of the human body and the human body as technological inventions are transformed into ambiguous technologies.The main part of the exhibition consisted of three projections. Simultaneously on a wall and on a monitor, Metamorphosis—The Little Mermaids Nightmare, 1996, was shown on a flat-screen monitor mounted on a desk; and The Little Mermaids Nightmare (Play), 1996, was projected onto the ceiling of an open gallery. The presentation of different projections and the series of drawings made of them were a purely formal matter, and the original drawings, which, in their harsh composition, and rapid, man-made drawing, could never be completely seen by the viewer. This fact was easily visible through the exhibition's archival material: a copy of the artist's video-projection double projection The Little Mermaids Nightmare (Play), 1996, and its support. The projection of the previous double projection onto the newly projected projection was a picture of the viewer, and one could see it as an avatar of the artist, who thus became the other.
The art piece, "Mickey", was made on a canvas with acrylic paint to express the progression of Disney's animation of animals over time. It was a direct and effective reaction to the artists atelier: it was impossible to imagine that the supposed progress of the Mickey Mouse would ever reach that point. This came through very clearly, even to the point of excess, with the works writing, originally from England, in a single line, and printed on other canvases. The final copy was then glued onto a canvas—and it was even more difficult to see.On the other hand, it is undeniable that there was a lot of inspiration from early modernism: in its use of the surface as an instrument of spatial projection, it closely resembled (if not exactly identical) the work of Piet Mondrian. This made the show's emphasis on the transferral of the invention from the hand to the screen all the more prominent. The pressure to reinvent painting's capacity to express itself as an image of space and time was obvious. The largest, and perhaps most revealing, work was Landscape with Monochrome. This was painted on a single, identical canvas and covered in a white cloth, so that one had to look at it from two or three steps away to see it. In fact, one could only see the painting at a distance of several inches. It was possible to view it from a distance, but the painting seemed blurry and faint, and the fact that it was one of the most beautiful things to have happened to this country in twenty years (the last time this country had a prime minister) must have made the point clear.There was a lot of the same going on in the works on paper. Only on a small scale, but no less important, were they physically distinct. In the case of the more recent works, the displacement of the signature was remarkable, and the moving part of it from paper to canvas seemed to be the result of the evocation of various styles, whether in the very reduction of his work to just three basic elements, all of which were central to his production.
The art piece, "Mickey", was made on a canvas with acrylic paint to express the progression of Disney's animation of animals over time. The works first, both 2004, features the Mickey Mouse, a favorite Disney character since his debut in 1962, as he takes a blue-and-white rabbit to the top of a staircase, and an animation of a rainbow emerges from his arms. The second piece, consisting of two photographs, one showing the house of Mouse Mouses and the other the fireplace in which he seems to be preparing for some otherworldly purpose. This fireplace, built by the artisanship company Migros, is clearly drawn in ink.The final work, made for this exhibition, is a video showing the artist drawing Mickey on the video-paintings he has been making since 2008. Mickey plays the role of a disembodied voice speaking the word for another world, but the voice is voiced by artist Jannis Kounellis. The video cuts to an individual who turns Mickey into a mask and gives him a red cape. After this, the video concludes with the artist—who was born in France and lives in New York—trying on a mask. Another video, made with the help of Hommage à Marko Reud, shows Kounellis taking a Mickey-mask from a woman at a party and replacing it with a cast one made by a colleague. The video concludes with the artists voice saying, You can do anything here. This work connects the work with a trend in which, as the viewer can discern, cultural symbols and their own identities are increasingly assimilated by the moment. It is not surprising that The Mouse at the Crossroads, 2010, which portrays the artist at the gate of Disneyland Paris, is the first work by a female artist to be on display in a high-tech shopping center, as it is also reflected in the stunning video installation Palais de Tokyo (Paris), 2010.