Set up a small table with two chairs outside of
910 Grand Street, Brooklyn. Ask every person
who walks by the table if they could pose for a 5
minute drawing. Make all drawings with graphite
on 6 x 6 inch white paper. Once one hundred
people have agreed to pose, and there are one
hundred drawings, stop asking passersby.
Proceed to hang the drawings in a 10 x 10 grid.
By Emily Grenader
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Jen Poueymirou
Matter/Energy
Imagine a floating landscape of vibrations that would be created in a space that would be wide and expansive. They would appear as light waves that incorporated sound. The light would move at one speed, the sound at another.
This would be created through a system of motors that would spin at different speeds and with various ratios of torque. A string would be anchored to the end of an arm that was a part of the mechanical movements of the motor which would interact with an armature that surrounded the arm to help it reverberate. The arm would rattle with repeated concussions where the motor was mounted and would put the string into movement across the building where it would be anchored to the other side. The arms movement would make the strings tremble across the expanse of the space. There would be enough of these strings to extend the full length of the space. (at least 100) With each oscillating, pulsating and wavering string creating a different undulating pattern, the mechanism of each would also create a sound that would end up making a cacophony as they slowly began to work simultaneously.
In experiencing the piece, the viewer would enter into a completely dark environment except for the light of neon black lights that would be facing the various strings to turn them a glow. As each mechanism is turned on, the wave patterns become something similar to light; Part energy, part matter. The dissonance of the sound would grow until all the mechanisms are turned on.
I think it would be great to work with musicians as well to use the sounds as part of a composition that could be performed. The Park Avenue Armory would be a perfect example of the space needed for this piece.
Matter/Energy
Imagine a floating landscape of vibrations that would be created in a space that would be wide and expansive. They would appear as light waves that incorporated sound. The light would move at one speed, the sound at another.
This would be created through a system of motors that would spin at different speeds and with various ratios of torque. A string would be anchored to the end of an arm that was a part of the mechanical movements of the motor which would interact with an armature that surrounded the arm to help it reverberate. The arm would rattle with repeated concussions where the motor was mounted and would put the string into movement across the building where it would be anchored to the other side. The arms movement would make the strings tremble across the expanse of the space. There would be enough of these strings to extend the full length of the space. (at least 100) With each oscillating, pulsating and wavering string creating a different undulating pattern, the mechanism of each would also create a sound that would end up making a cacophony as they slowly began to work simultaneously.
In experiencing the piece, the viewer would enter into a completely dark environment except for the light of neon black lights that would be facing the various strings to turn them a glow. As each mechanism is turned on, the wave patterns become something similar to light; Part energy, part matter. The dissonance of the sound would grow until all the mechanisms are turned on.
I think it would be great to work with musicians as well to use the sounds as part of a composition that could be performed. The Park Avenue Armory would be a perfect example of the space needed for this piece.
There is everyone in this room that you wanted to say something to but didn't know how to or missed opportunity to talk to them.
The time goes back to the very moment like a time machine at that very moment you wanted to say something.
But with this newly realized memory that you missed the moment and that you long for resolution.
You don't say anything.
But the person understands. Understands exactly how you feel.
And you know the person understood.
By Yejin Yoo
Make the room into a giant stomach and fill it with Japanese Yams, dark chocolate Hershey kisses, red mango frozen yogurt, ice coffee, kabocha squash, and aged Gouda cheese.
The room will actually operate and become a stomach digesting food as much as possible, if the stomach is having problems or is hungry more food should be introduced to maintain its flow and energy. The stomach will make very loud noises especially during the day so dont be alarmed. It also may become very hot and or hot tempered as a result of not absorbing the food fast enough or being fed too aggressively. The room will thus become very sensitive and is quite vulnerable so treat it with kindness, gentleness and care. If you are walking to hard you may rip the walls of the stomach and thus cause it an ulcer - which is not good. If this happens you need to be very sympathetic and not piss the stomach off any further otherwise there will be serious repercussions and the stomach will begin to collapse on itself and on you.
The room will actually operate and become a stomach digesting food as much as possible, if the stomach is having problems or is hungry more food should be introduced to maintain its flow and energy. The stomach will make very loud noises especially during the day so dont be alarmed. It also may become very hot and or hot tempered as a result of not absorbing the food fast enough or being fed too aggressively. The room will thus become very sensitive and is quite vulnerable so treat it with kindness, gentleness and care. If you are walking to hard you may rip the walls of the stomach and thus cause it an ulcer - which is not good. If this happens you need to be very sympathetic and not piss the stomach off any further otherwise there will be serious repercussions and the stomach will begin to collapse on itself and on you.
By Micheal Cavayero
In every person there is bad and there is good. I cannot believe there could be such a man who would not understand what it is to be vain, or a coward, or an egoist. In the artist this manifests itself especially vividly, and in this resides one of the surprising characteristics of the artist: the experiencing of others' passions. In each person are planted the seedlings of the most various passions—both light and dark. I can create the image of a coward on the basis of exceptionally trivial recollections of childhood with the help of my memory, in which there is preserved a hint, a trace, a contour of some action, perhaps barely begun, whose impetus was cowardice. When you depict a negative hero, you yourself become negative, you raise up from the bottom of your soul what is sordid; that is, you confirm for yourself that it exists within you, and therefore take upon your consciousness a very heavy psychological burden. Six years ago I wrote the novel Envy. The central character of this story was Nikolai Kavalerov. I was told that there was much of myself in Kavalerov. Right away it was said that Kavalerov was a vulgar and worthless individual. I took this accusation of worthlessness and vulgarity to apply to me, and it astounded me. I did not believe it, and I kept it to myself. I began to think that what I had thought to be my treasure was in fact my poverty. I imagined a very difficult, sorrowful life—the life of a person from whom everything has been taken away. The artist's imagination came to my aid, and its breath transformed the naked thought of social irrelevance into invention. I live, unneeded by anyone, vulgar and worthless. This is a terribly touching story to tell oneself; one terribly enjoys feeling sorry for oneself. I thought about it, and realized that my foremost dream was the dream of retaining the right to the colors of my youth. While I was searching for youth—the country was constructing factories. This was the first Five-Year Plan for the creation of Socialist industry. This was not my theme. I would have been lying, making things up; I would not have had what one calls inspiration. I grew alarmed and began to think that I was useful to no one, that there was nothing to which my peculiar abilities as an artist could be applied. In accepting the worker's and Komsomol member's suggestions as to how I ought to live and work, I have matured, my thinking has grown stronger, but the colors within have remained the same. Thus did my youth return to me. The people who were building factories, the heroes of construction, those who were collectivizing the countryside, those who were doing all these things that seem inconceivable to me —these people—Glory to them!—with all their amazing activity, which I had disregarded, have created a government, a socialist country, a motherland! Under this government the first young generation is growing; the young Soviet person is growing. As an artist, I rush toward him. I cannot write without finding an analogy between you and myself. I wish to create the type of the young person, endowing him with the best of what I had in my youth. I consider that the historical task of the writer is to write books that will arouse in our youth the feeling of emulation, the feeling of the necessity of being better. One must choose what is best within oneself, in order to create the portrait of a person who might serve as a model. The writer must be a nurturer and a teacher. Somewhere within me lives the conviction that Communism is not only an economic system, but also a moral system, and the first to embody this aspect of Communism will be the young men and women. My entire sense of beauty to the most complex psychological ideas—I shall strive to embody my vision in these things in such a way as to show that the new socialist relationship to the world represents a human relationship in the purest sense. Such is the return of youth. The treasure I once possessed remains intact; this treasure expresses itself in the knowledge that the world is beautiful, and that what has made it bad is the domination of money, the domination of man over man. Under the domination of money this world was fantastical and distorted. Now, for the first time in the history of culture, it has become real and just.
*****
by YURI OLESHA
Translated by David Powelstock
Brandeis University
By Nikita Vishnevskiy
Erased Duchamp
Instant ready-made: take a postcard of the Mona Lisa, frame it, hang it, call it “Erased Duchamp” referencing Rauschenberg’s “Erased de Kooning” as well as Duchamp’s ready-mades.
By Stephan Fowlkes
May, 2010
This project is based off a reoccurring nightmare I have been having for the past couple of years. My inability to make it is due to finances and the problem of gathering the material.
I walk into a dark room. It has the aura of musky oblivion, dusty and damp. In a corner stand stacks upon stacks of filthy cages, inside them are animals, crammed, some barely alive. Their food and water bowls are empty, licked clean. Fecal matter and urine are scattered everywhere.
I would like to turn this nightmare into an installation. Ideally I would build a small room preferably in a basement for the dampness. The viewer would enter a dark atmosphere and be confronted by a scene of five stacked cages. These cages have to be rusty, shit stained, completely incapable of holding living beings. Inside them will be taxidermies of dogs, cats, ferrets, parakeets, rats and a bearded dragon. The food bowls in the parakeet cages have to have the shells from the seed, tussled.
The feeling that I wish to convey is the overwhelming neglect as a confrontation takes place between the viewer and the glassy eyes of those dependent on you.
By Irina Makarova
Queen-size bed suspended 4 feet off the ground with sewing thread projecting in beams onto adjacent walls. The pillows too can be suspended slightly, hovering off the bed. Also, a large beam of clear thread is projecting through the center of both mattress and frame onto the ground into the center of a 7 foot diameter spiral circle of tightly packed clam shells.
By Jimmy Miracle
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