 |
| Elvis, Jesus, Coca-Cola, 2012. Approximately 5 x 6 1/2 feet. paperback book covers, spray paint. |
 |
Elvis, Jesus, Coca-Cola (detail), 2012. Approximately 5x61/2 feet. paperback book covers, spray paint.
|
|
 |
Elvis, Jesus, Coca-Cola (detail), 2012. Approximately 5x61/2 feet. paperback book covers, spray paint.
|
|
 |
| The Strangest Asylum, 2012. 5 x 5 1/2 feet. digital prints from scanned book covers, acrylic paint, tape. |
 |
| The Strangest Asylum (detail), 2012. 5 x 5 1/2 feet. digital prints from scanned book covers, acrylic paint, tape. |
|
 |
| The Strangest Asylum (detail), 2012. 5 x 5 1/2 feet. digital prints from scanned book covers, acrylic paint, tape. |
|
 |
Modern Romance, 2012. Approximately, 5 x 5 1/2 feet. digital prints of photographed book pages, book covers,
spray paint. |
 |
Modern Romance (detail), 2012. Approximately, 5 x 5 1/2 feet. digital prints of photographed book pages,
book covers, spray paint. |
 |
Modern Romance (detail), 2012. Approximately, 5 x 5 1/2 feet. digital prints of photographed book pages,
book covers, spray paint. |
 |
|
No, Didn’t Wait, No, Wouldn’t, No, Sorry to... 2012. Approximately 6 1⁄2 feet x 6/12 feet. Digital prints from photographed book pages, paperback book covers, acrylic paint. |
 |
| No, Didn’t Wait, No, Wouldn’t, No, Sorry to... (detail), 2012. Approximately 6 1⁄2 feet x 6/12 feet. Digital prints from photographed book pages, paperback book covers, acrylic paint. |
 |
| No, Didn’t Wait, No, Wouldn’t, No, Sorry to... (detail), 2012. Approximately 6 1⁄2 feet x 6/12 feet. Digital prints from photographed book pages, paperback book covers, acrylic paint. |
Here are four recent book-inspired pieces. Just a few notes on process and materials: I'm using both actual book covers (exclusively in the case of the first piece) as well as photographed and enlarged sections of covers and pages. The piece with a lot of blue in it is made exclusively from romance novels. Woot, woot! The other pieces are collages of a variety of different genres. I guess I could post some kind of artist statement or something, but that seems kinda formal for this? So I'd like general feedback and impressions of the work. Thank you!
Hey Roger! Don't want you to think I am ignoring this - just really busy with xmas stuff. They look really interesting. I will write a response asap! You've done lots of work!
ReplyDeleteHi Roger!
ReplyDeleteI think this work is beautiful and I am excited that you are using the physical books in the work. I also love your color palate in these pieces.
I have some trouble interpreting the meaning of the work. I have spent some time trying to make a connection between the physical material of the work (the books), the overall shape of the constructions, and your treatment of the material. The shape of the individual works is interesting to me, and quite beautiful. They all look like they are trying to hold it together and be very strong and straight, but they are made up of odd and crumbling pieces. The last one looks like a house to me, but the other three look like the shape of states or countries on a map. The books themselves--are they all sort of cheesy paperbacks? I think it may be hard to tell in the blog images, but it seems like you are using throwaway "dimestore" novels instead of "highbrow" literature. I can see how using great works of literature would be very problematic, but I also don't understand how to interpret these books as material, and what they mean to you. As far as your treatment of the books, you are basically destroying them, but also turning them into art, which elevates them.
Maybe an artist statement would help?
Hola! I've been thinking of this work often and finally got around to sitting down to write a response.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, I think the visual appeal of these works is pretty striking. In person I am sure they are impressive.
At first, I felt - and still feel - a bit confused by the work, not exactly sure what you were getting at. After sitting with it for a while, I think my takeaways are mostly violence, temporality, and knowledge and the interplay between them. The violence from the physical subtractions of the book covers, and the temporality because the books that you chose to use are generally not classics and are more briefly available on newsstand-type locations. (The admin assistant at my company reads this type of literature constantly and I can often tell that she's reading the older ones which always interests me, but that is another story.) I see the first piece as a sort of fucked-up newsstand. But as books, I also think you are referring to knowledge and stories. I wonder if you are asking the question: Are these books ultimately corrupting or do we create the corruption which creates the books? (I see the erasures etc. as corrupting.)
I also noticed that the books basically use the same fonts and all have an emphasis on America.
I'm not sure if it's because I have been thinking about storms a lot lately, but the work for me can also reference land (this is the American connection also). In addition to a newsstand, I see the books as representing land masses (as if you were looking down on a map), and then the books themselves also seem landlike because of the areas that are left and those that are taken away/erased - like storm remains. This gives me an environmental read (pun intended) that I'm not sure is intentional.
The home piece as I see it could have the alternate title: "we create our homes out of our stories." This is probably overly simplistic. I also see the red roof of that piece as similar to a fingerprint. I think this one is more personal and the writing in the books seems more personal, but I'm not sure if that's a function of the detail shots or if it's apparent in person.
I'd love to see a statement on this - thanks for sharing with us!
Here is an more general artist statement I've been using for this work, as requested:
ReplyDeleteIn this work I am exploring literal and metaphorical entropy. I use books from a variety of genres to investigate notions of instability and cultural erosion. This work ties together narratives that are embedded within not only our literature but the fabric of our architecture. In these pieces, stories are layered upon one another, visible in fragments that collide and connect. These pastiches are composed of both actual book covers and photographed covers and pages that magnify markings, words, rips and rents in the paper. Large portions of each cover are erased, creating textural passages that speaks to both the decline of print media but also the precarious position the stories in mass-produced paperbacks hold within our memories and within our culture. Spines, the element of a book that normally holds everything together are either partially detached or connecting disparate works. Bits of titles and author names form a strange wordplay across the surface of each piece. Pieces of text from underlying pages poke through the covers evoking partial palimpsests of stories written on top of each other, erased and reformed.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteOkay, hey again everyone.
ReplyDeleteSo, I agree that these works, as is the case with most work, are hard to see in reproduction. I have seen the first three in person. One specific thing that I think is lost here is that each piece is individual and sits of the wall a quarter of an inch. So that each book cover and book fragment feels like an individual object carefully placed on the wall. The compositions of the fragments overall remind me of looking at a patchwork quilt, where each piece has a history and the visual connections between the pieces occupy me. I also see that they look like maps, google earth or topography. And, I think they look like some sort of building blocks or construction. You were adamant in your thesis work that the erased books and the aged building facades were the same, not just connected, but the same. I think that relationship (to building facades) is much stronger in this book work than the individual prints of erased books on a black background. Or maybe these works are a go-between that connect the two.
The orange color of paint that shows up in several of these works is like "caution orange." In the "Jesus, Elvis, Cocacola" piece the orange blends with the black and falls away quite organically and, to me, looks like rust. The books look like rusty shingles. Also the blue color in the romance piece is the same as the blue of painters tape, it is elemental and primary. You have referenced and used material and colors from building construction in your timeline works as well. So, clearly there is a connection in the work to industrial materials, home building, road work, hazards, et cetera, which is what it is. Are you aware of it? I think the association adds to the work, but it is hard not to make the association. It would be cool to see a piece that was all lavender or some shit and see if we think instead of easter or some other shit.
In the erased books in your thesis work we could see the inside of the book, I was always thinking about this sort of stack of papers and words that you were scraping away at and revealing different layers. Also with your stack pieces, I was always thinking about this volume of words and text and meaning. With the book covers in these newer works I am almost stopped at the cover. My understanding of the book is more superficial, and I think about how similar the covers are. They are less penetrable, like bricks. It seems to be more about reduction in a sense.
Carolyn, I can see what you mean about violence, temporality and knowledge, I think those are good words. I think the word that came to mind for me is just age, aging. . . . and I guess that has to do with all of those words that you mentioned. I also think they are very visually striking and their scale is familiar and relatable on a human scale (not sure how to word this in a very intelligible way). Which is to say that when I was standing in a room with them, I lingered and was consumed by looking at all the little details, which is a rare experience.