Why You Should Buy Art

I am back from New York, and this William Powhida print is one souvenir of a wonderful and art-filled trip. You can click on the image to enlarge.
(Actually, I bought the print online at Jen Beckman's "20x200" which is well worth a virtual visit, whether you can get to New York or not.)

I am an erratic blogger, and for that, I apologize. You'd think I'd have plenty to write about, having just spent the last week in New York, in the company of Our Montreal Correspondent. The problem is, I am slow thinker, and I need time to mull before I write...not a trait particularly well suited to the pace of the blogosphere.

While in NY, OMC and I visited the William Powhida and Jennifer Dalton event, "#class" at Winkleman Gallery, and participated in Saturday's Powhida-led "Art Walk" through a range of Chelsea galleries.

And since I am still mulling over that experience, for now I'll leave you with Eva Diaz's description and contextualization of the goings-on at #class, from Artforum:

"Mass education in the post–World War II period positioned pedagogy as a pivot between personal growth and wider sociopolitical transformation. Recent large-scale student protests against fee hikes and the profit-driven campus at the New School and throughout the University of California system can be seen as part of a larger reaction to how the prospect of education was subsequently instrumentalized as a consumer transaction. Similarly, a spate of artist collectives are reassessing how progressive pedagogical models can be employed as consciousness-raising tools. Joining related endeavors such as 16 Beaver, the Public School, e-flux’s Night School, and the Bruce High Quality Foundation University, artists William Powhida and Jennifer Dalton have created #class, a series of public workshops in a classroom setting that, in its eclectic sprawl, seeks to investigate the effects of the economic downturn on the field of art: on its production, reception, distribution, and consumption; on its educational institutions and its institutions of display.
The setup is simple: A room contains several worktables and chairs lined with four chalkboards. Dozens of programs and open-ended brainstorming sessions have been scheduled for the one-month duration of the exhibition, and the artists will be present on a daily basis to use the gallery as a studio space. The “curriculum” ranges from the intentionally hokey (motivational speakers promising to unleash “wild creativity”) to the near heretical (dealers guaranteeing to answer questions about the art market with complete transparency)."

You can follow the events for yourself, by visiting the #class blog, and Ed Winkleman's blog, where you'll find a link to a gallery cam running a continuous live feed during gallery hours.

Art School Advertisement

Don Novello's circa 1980's TV ad for the San Francisco Art Institute, from a time when not taking yourself too seriously was considered a virtue.

...but is it art?

More on Belgian artist Wim Delvoye.

(The highlighted article "An Inedible Meal on Ottawa's Tab" clipped from the National Post will give you the background on the current installation at la Galerie de l'UQAM in Montreal. There has been a fair amount in print and on the web about this exhibition over the past month, most of which has been sensational and misses the point. If you are not familiar with the work, take a look at the National Post article first.)

Cloaca No. 5 is Wim Delvoye's latest in a series of machines which duplicate the digestive system. This new iteration of Cloaca is more elegant, and anthropomorphic, than the earlier versions. It is beautifully crafted and imposing, displayed solo in the serene and windowless lower space of the gallery. Delvoye has also refined the science, in as much as the machine's "artistic output" was solid and well-formed, and hardly stank at all. When I was there, a group of children was attending as well. We had fun watching the art student top up the glass vats containing digestive juices, and we all giggled at the "potty humour". The cafeteria scraps which were fed to the machine had been modeled into sculptures by Montreal artists. So, the machine was fed art, but the "value" was in the turds.

In our society, we consume a lot, and we place high monetary and social value on things that aren't really worth very much... Delvoye's message is quite transparent and not at all deep or complex. Very easy to grasp, and from what I saw and heard, the kids pretty much "got it". Just in case it was not clear enough, Delvoye hedged his bets by appropriating familiar corporate logos and fonts: Coca Cola's for Cloaca, Walt Disney's for Wim Delvoye and so on.

It was an enjoyable gallery-going experience, and it was gratifying to see children engaged, having fun and thinking through some "big issues" all at the same time.

Kurt Schwitters said, "I am an artist. If I spit, it is art". Change the letter "p", and you have Wim Delvoye. However, in my opinion this work falls more comfortably in the area of design/marketing/semiotics. No doubt, Delvoye is brilliant at marketing.

The exhibition closes on Valentine's Day. It would be a great outing for you and your honey, if this year your gift is a Hershey Bar instead of Godiva. Worthwhile family outing, too. I do not really think this is "Capital A" Art, but I also do not think it is nonsense, or insulting to taxpayers. Cloaca No. 5 is an interesting, beautifully engineered object and the gallery-going experience was fun. It provoked conversation, got kids engaged and thinking, and may even have saved a few relationships. Art or not, I think this small, publicly funded, university gallery delivered good value with this exhibition.