Pop Culture and Media- Transgender Discussions

Thank you fellow artists for an open-minded and insightful discussion last Monday regarding Transgender identities.
One of the questions posed this week that I found interesting was: "Why do we find 'transgenderdness' (is there a better term?) so fascinating in general?"
I personally think that we read transgenderdness like we do celebrity: a small group of individuals within a defined social community constantly being scrutinized by everybody else- attractive because so many of us have the deep seated desire to be a part of a closely knit 'outsider group'. To draw further similarities, many celebrities use transgendered motifs when defining their look or character. David Bowie did this in the mid 70's during his 'Ziggy Stardust' phase. The character 'Ziggy Stardust' was not only transgendered and bisexual, but an alien as well: the 'other' in more ways than one. By doing so he helped to uncover the roots of our fascination with the blurring of gender boundaries- suggesting indirectly that we see transgendered individuals in much the same way as we see aliens (the Ziggy type aliens at least). They are mysterious, threatening to some, often social outsiders, and yet constantly the subject of fascination.

Bowie as Ziggy-taken from blogs.seattleweekly.com

Bowie recognized that a performer needs to be "larger than life"- intimidating to approach, and therefor envied and surrounded by an aura of importance. Rather than following the traditional formula of cultivating intimidation by playing the role of the 'tough guy', Bowie did it by playing up sexual ambiguity. Currently, the Bowie niche is filled by performers like Lady Gaga-proving that transgendered individuals still play the role of 'the other' even 40 or so years later. Why is "the other" such a fascinating thing? Many great writers and philosophers have tried to answer this-but I'll just take the easy cop-out and say that "it's just part of the human condition". 

To answer the other question: "did anything in the discussion change your view of the world?" 

No. In fact I don't remember being called back on anything that I said through the entire discussion. I don't know whether it was because the issue is such a touchy one, or because everyone just agrees with me. 

Ahmed Basiony

Ahmed Basiony was a rising and well respected artist based in Egypt, who became actively involved in the 2011 revolts, and was killed by police forces during a street protest. His violent death made him, in many ways, a martyr for his cause, and his later work is now seldom  discussed without relation to this.

   images.artnet.com

One of Basiony's later works in particular, titled 'Thirty Days of Running in Place' (2010), showcases his multimedia talents and flair for experimentation. For this piece, Basiony clothed himself in a full-body plastic suit covered in sensors designed to monitor physiological changes (i.e. the amount of sweat he produced)-and jogged around the room. The data collected by the sensors was then translated and projected onto a screen in the form of colorful geometric shapes on a grid. His physiological changes were directly responsible for what appeared on the screen.



Following Basiony's death, surviving footage from 'Thirty Days of Running in Place' was combined with and played alongside footage from the Egyptian riots (filmed by Basiony just days before his death)- and included in an exhibition at the Venice Bienalle. This posthumous exhibition was put together by friends and colleagues of Basiony. One of those responsible for putting together the exhibition, curator Aida Eltorie, said of the piece: "He is tackling the idea of consumerism, being consumed and wasted...It was very much about his state of mind, and about what he felt about being an Egyptian." Basiony's expended energy and aimless jogging seems to reflect the futility and frustration of fighting a repressive regime-but he returned to it day after day with persistence and determination-always producing something visually pleasing yet physically unidentifiable on the projected screens. He was contributing to something beautiful each day, even if he could not put a recognizable form or face to it. 

Plastic covered Basiony- beezandhoney.blogspot.com

Part II: Should an artist be political in their life? In their art?

In my opinion- absolutely! Some of my favorite works of art have been politically charged and inspired. I think first of artists like Theodore Gericault and Jacques Louis David, whose works were thinly veiled political metaphors and social criticisms- think Oath of the Horatii (1784) or The Coronation of Napoleon (1806)- and have arguably become some of the most revered and admired pieces of their era. Literature has also been greatly improved by political commentary. One of my favorite authors, George Orwell, used masterpieces like "1984" and "Animal Farm" to discuss political views (particularly associated with Socialism) and warn readers of the risks associated with the abuse of power. The results were some of the most endearing written works of the past century. Music has been greatly affected too. Green Day's critically and commercially successful album 'American Idiot' was able to capitalize on the uneasy social and political climate created by the Bush administration, and put into artistic existence the sentiments of millions of like-minded people who had been unable to articulate their discomfort.

Without politics and art existing in the same world, none of the aforementioned works (and thousands more I didn't mention) would exist, and the inspirational pool left for future artists would be greatly diminished. In other words-how could I speak against politics in art when it has spawned some of my favorite works?

Being a politically conscious artist can also aid in public opinion and popularity. The term 'social conscience' has been applied more and more to politically aware artists in the past few years- and while not everyone may agree on the message in the work, I have never heard 'social conscience' used as a put down. It is simply another unwritten expectation for the modern renaissance man or woman. The easiest way to become socially conscious and politically aware is to involve oneself in the process- so I believe that an artist should be politically active and aware in their life (or inactive...but only if that is a conscious and planned decision). The most well-respected and admired artists can be seen almost as arbiters of social taste and opinion- and becoming politically aware is the most logical beginning for those aspiring to that height.

Also, if, as Isabelle Graw suggests in her book 'High Price', fame can be achieved most easily out of controversy and scandal, then why back away from one of the most polarizing topics on Earth? That of politics and power.

High Art versus Low Art

The separate worlds of high and low art do exist, but only on a very superficial level. 

Low art is often associated with subculture movements-i.e. the underground "comix" movement of the 60's, 70's, and 80's which included artists like Robert Crumb, Rick Griffin, and Spain Rodriguez; as well as publications like Heavy Metal Magazine. 

The May 1982 cover for 'Heavy Metal Magazine' 

Sometimes low art is defined as such because the purpose seems to be entertainment alone. Such is the common misconception with comic book/ cartoon culture-arguably the most tagged forms of the "lowbrow movement". In fact, there is much more to the picture. Some of the underground publications/ artists were inclined to act because of important social issues--look no further than the work of famous feminist comic artist Joyce Farmer, whose work often poked fun at what she saw as a misogynist and "man-centric" (for lack of a better term) society. Some publications like "Slow Death Comics" tackled a contentious social issue with each release.

Was this not the same aim as famed and now legendary "high artists" like Theodore Gericault (social injustice) and Artemisia Gentileschi (empowerment of women)? 

The other argument may be something about the quality of the work-and while it is hard to compare the aesthetic of an artist like Robert Crumb to someone like Gericault, or even to someone like Damien Hirst, I will suggest that many "lowbrow" artists possess just as much technical ability as their "highbrow" counterparts. Just look at the work of Luis Garcia, a regular contributor to Heavy Metal Magazine:

And asking price? Even something as mundane sounding as "Action Comics" can fetch over a few million dollars for an original pressing. So more than anything the distinction between high and low art confuses me and I try to avoid it as much as possible. 

I have no problem with putting art into categories- cataloguing only serves the purpose of helping the curious find things pertaining to their interests- but how about using a less derogatory term than "low art"? How about "Comic art", "underground art", or even "Shock art"? Terms that have nothing to do with the inferred value of the movement.

Media And Pop Culture/ The first ever N.Austin Art Post

The two questions posed for this week's class:
-"What is your opinion of Andreas Gursky's work?"
-"What should the value of art be based on?"

An image of Andreas Gursky's 99 Cent from canadianart.ca

Unfortunately, my favorite Andreas Gursky photograph, 99 Cent, looks rather unremarkable in any sort of online reproduction. The massive scale of his work is a huge selling point, and seeing it with anything less kills much of the impact (although I will admit, a few well printed books have managed to recapture some of the appeal). Because the internet is now by far the largest vector for art sharing/ discovery, this inability for crossover appeal may be a critical weakness with regards to emulating his work (for up and coming artists looking for widespread recognition). Even Gursky admits: "The pictures are not so small that you can’t recognise anything; and they are still big enough that if you approach them you can get many details. But there are also images like Kamiokande which can’t be read in  a small size - it can only develop its power in a bigger format"(Gursky on foto8.com). Fortunately for Gursky, he was able to make a splash in Europe (during the 80's) before the internet boom- and fortunately for me, I was able to see some of his full scale work at the Tate Modern in London three years ago. Along with the charcoal animations of William Kentridge, Andreas Gursky's photos are one of the exhibits that really stuck with me, and that held my attention at the time. Is he an abstract photographer? A social documentary photographer? He most likely sees himself as both and more (although, when interviewed, he often denies being an architectural or landscape photographer-two genres it is incredibly easy to pigeonhole him into), but I personally don't like to deconstruct it too much. In the right room, at the right scale, and with the right lighting there is very little comparable to his work-the color, the composition, the form, the sharpness, the ability to make me feel both amazed and ignorant at how much beauty I must overlook in everyday life (not a bad thing at all-more of a wake-up call). For example, a day at the beach can become something reminiscent of a Robert Rauschenberg painting:

 

Image taken from trendland.com

Image taken from pbart.com

As for the small format taking away from his work , I will say that some of the more recent printed compilations of his work, including 'Andreas Gursky' by Peter Galassi, do offer a decent 'second best' to seeing his work in person. 

In summary, I love the full scale work! It is monumental, room filling, and breath taking. The weakness I see with Gursky is his inability to translate to the smaller format.  His work needs a very specific environment in order to really shine. This is a really nit-picky point with me, and I realize it's like saying "The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is only 'OK' because it's not that impressive on a computer screen"-but I stand by it...for now.

Part Two

Now, for the more difficult question: "What should the value of art be based on?"

One interesting approach that has been taken recently in the music industry is leaving the price of the work up to the buyer-or the decision of whether to pay at all. This has been pioneered by artists like Radiohead and The Smashing Pumpkins. It should be noted, however, that both artists are multi-platinum successes, and have built their careers on highly profitable previous projects-money, marketing, and day to day living are of little concern to them any more-even if no one decided to actually pay for their work, they could more than comfortably retire on the royalties from their back catalogues. 

The most practical and fair method for determining value, I believe, is basing it on the demand for an artist's work. It is simple supply and demand economics: competing buyers will drive the price up until a desired amount is eventually reached, and a project is undertaken or a work is sold. An artist can work to create this demand by increasing their public presence and standing. This relies largely on honing one's artistic (technical) skills, learning business and marketing skills (and embracing creative marketing tactics), pushing artistic boundaries, taking advice from already established artists, and self promotion. I like the supply/ demand concept because (through the aforementioned activities) it discourages laziness  while it encourages courage, innovation, and an entrepreneurial spirit.  Consulting already established artists is also incredibly healthy as it not only results in insightful advice-it relies on the "asker" to put aside their pride and arrogance and admit that they "do not know everything".