What a dramatic week for my fair city…..a roller coaster of feelings since this past Wednesday…. of sadness, of frustration, of outrage, but also of civic pride in the way everyday Vancouverites are seeking to come together and leave a different impression, visual and otherwise, of the way Vancouver will be seen and understood in the weeks to come. What was most heartening is that social media was able to play such a significant role in helping to expose and identify those responsible for a night of idiocy and violence against the city. There are many lessons to be taken from the events that unfolded this past week, not least of which concern unpacking and making sense of the intense focus on circulating images and representations of what took place. My hope is that people will continue to observe it all with a critical eye and with an open mind to the dialogue that is sure to follow concerning it all. Peace Vancouver. Here are some of my favourite tweets from the past week:
Marina Abramovic To Open Community Art Space
Basel - Nearly 300 galleries from 5 continents at this year's #ArtBasel. Preview the art on show
Fascinating. "The Most Famous Canadian Photographer You've Never Heard Of"
Help Fund James Franco’s Museum of Non-Visible Art
There's really no need for academics to look frumpy. So why do they try so hard?
I took this photograph of one of the many message-covered boards now temporarily
replacing broken windows following the riot in Vancouver on June 15th.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. That is what most of us were thinking in Vancouver on Wednesday night when our hockey team lost to the Boston Bruins in a crushing 4-0 loss. Weeks of joyous anticipation and happy energy, the likes of which had not been experienced by locals since the Winter Olympics street celebrations in 2010, came to an unexpected end. Swept up in the euphoria of it all, most of the city was prepared to thank their team for a great season and move on. But that is not what the world got to see. Instead, what transpired after the game was a sad and shameful display of a small group of people-- many of whom were out to capture and represent their antics through the power of social media. In less than 24 hours, the world came to see a very different Vancouver than the one advertised in glossy brochures and high livability indices.
A participant or by-stander of the riot? The lines are blurry.
Capturing the event on camera seemed to be the priority.
What was most disturbing to me as I watched the live coverage on television of a city appearing to descend into madness was the majority of individuals who stood by in zombie-like rows, capturing the spectacle on cell-phones and cameras, unwilling to scramble from the violence lest they lose their chance to digitally capture the scene. Most of what was being imaged was taking place only blocks from where I live, and so it was haunting—and no, the irony is not lost on me—that I too was experiencing the “live event” through the technological mediation of the screen. As the night wore on and more of the still and moving images were uploaded to Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter and YouTube, there was a clear sense that all of us were participating in a quickly unfolding social media event, the likes of which were nowhere comparable to the last time Vancouver experienced a riot when the Canucks lost a Game Seven hockey game in 1994.
So what was different this time? Beyond the obvious sheer ubiquity of the available pictures thanks to social media, what struck me was the aesthetic quality and approach of the many photographs pouring onto these sites. Some of them were of the predictable snap-shot variety—the “hey look at me, I was at a riot” motif that you would expect of a cell phone picture. And some of them were clearly of a documentary nature, trying to capture the faces of rioters getting away with goods etc. to be identified by police for later prosecution. But many more were disturbingly and even exceedingly stylized, far more so than what was circulated after the 1994 riots. Capturing that dreaded National Geographic photojournalist quality that renders scenes of violence in a seductive and even beautiful light, the avalanche of mostly amateur photos taken with high quality photo equipment (many photo-shopped to heighten effects) radically altered the dimensions of the riot. Not surprisingly, these were the images that also captured the media’s attention and circulated around the world, perhaps none more problematic than the strangely cinematic and perplexing quality of the photograph of an amorous couple in the street as the city burns down around them (see below). It looks like something out of a bad apocalyptic Hollywood movie, the kind, incidentally, where Vancouver is routinely utilized by filmmakers as a backdrop for a fictional and unknowable place.
The Vancouver riots of 2011 will likely be distilled to this one "iconic" image
taken by local photographer Richard Lam. He claims it is not staged, but the image remains strangely cinematic.
Waking up yesterday morning, I wandered out to see the destruction for myself. I arrived on the scene by mid-morning and was heartened to see hundreds of people, brooms and garbage bags in hand, cleaning up the streets. Once again, photographers numbered among them, and within several hours a new type of photograph was being uploaded to social media sites. The images capture yet another dimension to the riot, but one that is perhaps less spectacular or alluringly apocalyptic. Yes, it is true that these pictures may be contributing to another kind of lie as well—the city is not always this clean and not all of our residents are so friendly or sartorial, trust me. But sadly, the community effort to counteract the effects of the riot is an event that many around the world will never see. I am therefore using my platform to circulate access and some measure of visibility to these images.
Anonymous Vancouverite pictured by Andy Fang cleaning up the streets
At the same time, I ask the question of how aestheticizing or even attempting to make a spectacle of the semiotics of violence seen the night of the riot removes or excuses photographers from the crowd's actions. Don’t get me wrong, I am all about questioning the squeaky clean image of my city. I am born and raised here, and I know many of its secrets and unflattering aspects. But there is something exceedingly manipulated and overtly false about so many of the riot pictures I have seen. This is an idea to ponder for all of the amateur and professional photojournalists out there in Vancouver. What did your stylized images do to contribute to any meaningful or critical conversation about the night of the 15th? Which “truths” were you interested in representing and what “lies” did your pictures perpetuate?
On the eve of Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Final in my hometown of Vancouver, I thought it might be interesting to highlight three contemporary artists who have chosen to feature the subject of hockey in their art practice. It will come as no surprise that a number of Canadian artists have featured the national sport as part of a larger commentary on the shared cultural experience, nostalgia, and spectacle that hockey signals for its many audiences. Among them is the work of Diana Thorneycroft and her photographic series “Group of Seven Awkward Moments” which includes the image Winter on the Don (pictured above--which I especially like because it features a Boston Bruin player sinking into the ice). Her stories combine plastic figures reminiscent of childhood play within carefully staged fantasy settings and what is argued by art critics as an “iconoclastic” vision of Canada. No doubt these players are evoking the often cited moment of most hockey players lives when they pretended as children to be playing in Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Final. In this sense, there is something very evocative and familiar about this image. Still, as art critic Bernard Perrine argues about Thorneycroft’s approach, “she toys with feelings of national identity, revealing their artificial nature. The artificial settings with their natural lighting are visual lies, sending the spectator towards a world of tourism, frozen but reassuring, domestic but entertaining.”
James Carl, Original Six (1998)
James Carl is another Canadian artist with an interest in exploring hockey, a Toronto-based sculptor who has based his practice around the use of the readymade and a wide variety of consumer objects. In 1998, he took a conceptual approach to aspects of hockey’s place in North American culture and created an installation titled Original Six (see image above). The piece features three foot tall replicas of Bic lighters meant to represent the first teams to form the National Hockey League. They are carefully positioned on platforms surrounding a loose replica of the Stanley Cup, bringing to mind the codes and signifiers of the game itself, the fan base, the players, and the city’s representing the hockey teams. This work was included in a 2008 exhibition that traveled Canada titled ARENA: Road Game which highlighted hockey related art works from around the world. For more information, see this link for a great video featuring several of the artists included in the show.
Kurt Kauper, Shaving Before the Game (2007)
Kurt Kauper rounds out our mini survey, an American artist who has caused a bit more controversy with his interest in hockey culture. A native of Boston, who grew up as a fan of the Bruins and experiencing the passion and obsessive interest in the franchise’s history, Kauper created an exhibition in 2007 titled “Everybody knew Canadians were the best hockey players” after coming across a video that documented the now infamous series of games which pitted Soviet amateur players against professional Canadian players. The tensions and national anxieties that played out throughout that series in the 1970’s reminded Kauper of similar national tensions brewing within post-2001 America and the rest of the world. Looking closer, the series includes paintings such as Derek and Shaving Before the Game—eight foot tall portraits that evoke the visual vocabulary of traditional masters (such as Jacques Louis David) who pictured heroic posturing of epic proportions. In interviews Kauper has talked about his childhood obsession with Bobby Orr (pictured in the shaving portrait) and the transgressive nature of depicting the male nude as a contemporary and still living subject.
Kurt Kauper, Derek (2007)
At the broadest level, all three artists ask us to think about how themes commonly associated with hockey intersect with larger questions of national identity, sign-making, and the representation of heroism. Closer to home, we can ponder why and how the game of hockey retains such potency for such a wide cross section of individuals. Either way, I still find it hard to detach into an academic stance for too long. I still want the Canucks to win. (Go Canucks GO!).
In a week when sporting news and the NHL and NBA finals have taken center stage in North America (Dallas just won their final against Miami!), I find it compelling how many of the arts-minded people I follow on Twitter have been tweeting about their excitement and interest in the games. People are often surprised when they hear that I love hockey and soccer, but I quickly explain that I have a similar appreciation and respect for the hard work, mental effort and passion that goes into the making of a great athlete as I do for those who choose art making as their career. There are many parallels to be found in this regard and I am always heartened by how many respected art historians and academics I meet enjoy the world of sports (even if mostly in secret, lol). Now if only we could figure out how to fund our artists as well as our athletes….sigh.
Here are some of my favourites from the past week:
The Venice Biennale: Art as a Political Game
Looks like "Inside Job," Oscar-Winning Documentary on 2008 financial meltdown, is back online
The Secret History of #Art: Found a Lost Renoir? One of My Readers Thinks So
Brilliant: If Facebook And Twitter Were Real Life
James Franco to release EP with avant-garde musician
I think James Franco has finally killed post modernism
New book on history of boredom
and just one more for the locals…
History stands tall. History Will Be Made #bringithome
Art21 lauches their own version of a summer "reality" series following contemporary artists
Looking out on the media landscape, it seems that no person, topic, or thematic area is off limits to reality television. I remember thinking that last summer when Bravo debuted “Work of Art: The Next Great Artist.” Modelled on the now familiar format of other competition based reality programs—“America’s Next Top Model”, “The Apprentice”, and “Project Runway” to name but a few—the ten episode series followed aspiring contemporary artists compete to win $100,000 and a solo exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Admittedly I was drawn into the series and even found moments of critical discussion that helped viewers glimpse how artists navigate the difficulties of the studio crit and the demands of producing art under tight deadlines (they had Jerry Saltz and Bill Powers on the show’s jury for goodness sake! See what Saltz thought of that experience here). Even so, the requisite reality TV editing which carefully constructs the high drama and conflicts needed to capture viewers attention appeared very contrived along with the eye-roll inducing catch phrase “Your work of art didn’t work for us” that dispatched the “losers” from the show. In the end, I had doubts that anyone could make a reality show that truly captured the inner workings of the art world.
"Work of Art" contestants awaiting their final crits. Jerry Saltz is pictured at far left. Note the
Hollywood lighting and wardrobe. I can assure you most artists I know don't generally dress like this either.
(image courtesy: Vulture)
My opinion however shifted when I heard of Art21’s plans to launch a new online documentary series of their own. Titled “New York Close Up”, the series will debut on June 16th and will follow the lives of ten artists in the first decade of their professional career as they live and work in New York City. As many of you know, Art21 has since 2001 been a respected non-profit contemporary art organization producing PBS series, books, and resources profiling important contemporary artists from around the world. Having earned numerous awards and prizes from both educational and film-making bodies, Art21 is routinely utilized by art historians in the classroom to help provide dynamic visual content and artist interviews to students. From Art21’s own dedicated website to the show, it is clear that they approach they will be taking with “New York Close Up” is aimed at bringing about a more intimate and personal look at the real lives of emerging artists: “Structured as an open-ended cinematic collaboration, Art21 is partnering with local artists to imagine new ways of telling stories about their creative process, political and aesthetic philosophies, personal backgrounds and community perspectives. Presented online as a suite of interdependent and experimental short films published over several years, this original Web series chronicles today’s artists as their works, ideas and lives evolve over time. Motivated by the experiences, relationships, and opportunities afforded to artists at the start of their careers, the series provides a unique perspective and behind-the-scenes guidebook for viewers to navigate the complex and emerging cultural geography of New York City. With artists serving as informal guides, the series captures the realities of living and working in the city, featuring: homes and studios, live performances, exhibitions, residencies, day jobs, nightlife, and social scenes.”
So far, Art 21 has released two teaser clips (see above and below) and I am truly intrigued. The feature artists also represent a diverse range of talents from all conceivable areas of contemporary art production: Lucas Blalock, Martha Colburn, Keltie Ferris, LaToya Ruby Frazier, Tommy Hartung, Rashid Johnson, Kalup Linzy, Shana Moulton, Mariah Robertson, and Mika Tajima. If nothing else, I hope that the series can bridge that gap in reality programming where the banalities and real-world obstacles of an individual’s life are made more a part of the final representation. Interestingly enough, Art21 has chosen to call their program a documentary film series, distancing themselves from the lingo associating their project with a show like “Work of Art” (Oprah has done something similar on the new OWN channel with her “docu-series”). Best of all, the series will be launching episodes on-line and focus on particular artist stories each week. I look forward to seeing how the final episodes shape up and what the discussions around Art21’s efforts will be. Stay tuned.
