Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
Just as I was about to reply to this disucussion, a letter arrived from my mother with the following, appropriate to the matter at ahnd: My favorite idea for sorting out my apt. has always been to put a dumpster under the back + throw out EVERY THING IN IT. Have it carried away and then a ballon with basket holds fast by the deck railing and I step into it and float away Sophey (her cat). I work with mainly materilas all sizes found on the street and until almost five years ago had boo, record, object, foto etc collections going back from more or less a liftime. Then for various reasons in the last years have lost just abt everything I had a few thimes--each time I moved and began agin for a few years or less--the same thing--lose evrything, start again. When I moved this winter, I was in the hopstial and the friend who moved me left behind all my accumulated materilas and most of my work of the last two years. As an essay of mine has it Necessity is the Motherfucker of Invention--and am working away, finding as always plenty to work with directly intthe streets, making rubBEings and paintings using clay impressions and collages etc. The ways in which I have lost things but on the other hand has taught me to continually keep finding things with which to work. The essay is about a situation in which I was in where after all this time of working in and with the streets and street found materials I was confined ninety days--so had to learn to find materials in a rather barren environment. (It is also a lot about Mail Art, originally was in Japanese journal KAIRAN, now at my blogspot davidbaptistechirot blogspot.com alongg with a great deal of rubBeings, some paintings fotos and other writing--; also do a google search--) This was great for training the eye and hand and imagination to find things in what at first might appear a desert--and then carry that training back out into the outside world. One of the things that one misses about having as it were the archives of one's life is that in a sense one's material history is done away with. All that is there is really just onself at this moment--and whatver small bit of work one has in hand. The rest is inside oneself--no doubt to come out in some form--I think back to huge record, book , object etc collections have had over the years--and all I can say is glad I had so much pleasure from them while had them. I have no value judgement whatsoever on which is better--to have more or to have less--all I can say is I have been very fortunate in that I have been able to learn from circumstance that one continues to work no matter what. I think if working is what you do, whether there is clutter or emptiness, you will work--now, how is that for profundity!! Here is the last line from Faulkner's THE WILD PALMS: Between grief and nothing, I will take grief. and here a poem by the Bosnian poet Semesdin Mehmedinovic, trnalsted by Ammiel Alcalay, whom i heard read it last night at Woodland Pattern Book Center here in Milwaukee-- (Body on the Bridge) From an abondoned garge by the Museum of the Revolution we looked at windows on Grbavica when--from the river--voiices could be heard What's that? Nothing benjamin says they're changing a body on the bridge Twelve years have gone by and--for the first time-- I' thinking about that NOTHING (in itlaics in the text)--david-bc _ Express yourself instantly with MSN Messenger! Download today - it's FREE! http://messenger.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200471ave/direct/01/
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
Just as I was about to reply to this disucussion, a letter arrived from my mother with the following, appropriate to the matter at ahnd: My favorite idea for sorting out my apt. has always been to put a dumpster under the back + throw out EVERY THING IN IT. Have it carried away and then a ballon with basket holds fast by the deck railing and I step into it and float away Sophey (her cat). I work with mainly materilas all sizes found on the street and until almost five years ago had boo, record, object, foto etc collections going back from more or less a liftime. Then for various reasons in the last years have lost just abt everything I had a few thimes--each time I moved and began agin for a few years or less--the same thing--lose evrything, start again. When I moved this winter, I was in the hopstial and the friend who moved me left behind all my accumulated materilas and most of my work of the last two years. As an essay of mine has it Necessity is the Motherfucker of Invention--and am working away, finding as always plenty to work with directly intthe streets, making rubBEings and paintings using clay impressions and collages etc. The ways in which I have lost things but on the other hand has taught me to continually keep finding things with which to work. The essay is about a situation in which I was in where after all this time of working in and with the streets and street found materials I was confined ninety days--so had to learn to find materials in a rather barren environment. (It is also a lot about Mail Art, originally was in Japanese journal KAIRAN, now at my blogspot davidbaptistechirot blogspot.com alongg with a great deal of rubBeings, some paintings fotos and other writing--; also do a google search--) This was great for training the eye and hand and imagination to find things in what at first might appear a desert--and then carry that training back out into the outside world. One of the things that one misses about having as it were the archives of one's life is that in a sense one's material history is done away with. All that is there is really just onself at this moment--and whatver small bit of work one has in hand. The rest is inside oneself--no doubt to come out in some form--I think back to huge record, book , object etc collections have had over the years--and all I can say is glad I had so much pleasure from them while had them. I have no value judgement whatsoever on which is better--to have more or to have less--all I can say is I have been very fortunate in that I have been able to learn from circumstance that one continues to work no matter what. I think if working is what you do, whether there is clutter or emptiness, you will work--now, how is that for profundity!! Here is the last line from Faulkner's THE WILD PALMS: Between grief and nothing, I will take grief. and here a poem by the Bosnian poet Semesdin Mehmedinovic, trnalsted by Ammiel Alcalay, whom i heard read it last night at Woodland Pattern Book Center here in Milwaukee-- (Body on the Bridge) From an abandoned garge by the Museum of the Revolution we looked at windows on Grbavica when--from the river--voiices could be heard What's that? Nothing benjamin says they're changing a body on the bridge Twelve years have gone by and--for the first time-- I' thinking about that NOTHING (in itlaics in the text)--david-bc _ Express yourself instantly with MSN Messenger! Download today - it's FREE! http://messenger.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200471ave/direct/01/
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
Just as I was about to reply to this disucussion, a letter arrived from my mother with the following, appropriate to the matter at ahnd: My favorite idea for sorting out my apt. has always been to put a dumpster under the back + throw out EVERY THING IN IT. Have it carried away and then a ballon with basket holds fast by the deck railing and I step into it and float away Sophey (her cat). I work with mainly materilas all sizes found on the street and until almost five years ago had boo, record, object, foto etc collections going back from more or less a liftime. Then for various reasons in the last years have lost just abt everything I had a few thimes--each time I moved and began agin for a few years or less--the same thing--lose evrything, start again. When I moved this winter, I was in the hopstial and the friend who moved me left behind all my accumulated materilas and most of my work of the last two years. As an essay of mine has it Necessity is the Motherfucker of Invention--and am working away, finding as always plenty to work with directly intthe streets, making rubBEings and paintings using clay impressions and collages etc. The ways in which I have lost things but on the other hand has taught me to continually keep finding things with which to work. The essay is about a situation in which I was in where after all this time of working in and with the streets and street found materials I was confined ninety days--so had to learn to find materials in a rather barren environment. (It is also a lot about Mail Art, originally was in Japanese journal KAIRAN, now at my blogspot davidbaptistechirot blogspot.com alongg with a great deal of rubBeings, some paintings fotos and other writing--; also do a google search--) This was great for training the eye and hand and imagination to find things in what at first might appear a desert--and then carry that training back out into the outside world. One of the things that one misses about having as it were the archives of one's life is that in a sense one's material history is done away with. All that is there is really just onself at this moment--and whatver small bit of work one has in hand. The rest is inside oneself--no doubt to come out in some form--I think back to huge record, book , object etc collections have had over the years--and all I can say is glad I had so much pleasure from them while had them. I have no value judgement whatsoever on which is better--to have more or to have less--all I can say is I have been very fortunate in that I have been able to learn from circumstance that one continues to work no matter what. I think if working is what you do, whether there is clutter or emptiness, you will work--now, how is that for profundity!! Here is the last line from Faulkner's THE WILD PALMS: Between grief and nothing, I will take grief. and here a poem by the Bosnian poet Semesdin Mehmedinovic, trnalsted by Ammiel Alcalay, whom i heard read it last night at Woodland Pattern Book Center here in Milwaukee-- (Body on the Bridge) From an abondoned garge by the Museum of the Revolution we looked at windows on Grbavica when--from the river--voiices could be heard What's that? Nothing benjamin says they're changing a body on the bridge Twelve years have gone by and--for the first time-- I' thinking about that NOTHING (in itlaics in the text)--david-bc _ Express yourself instantly with MSN Messenger! Download today - it's FREE! http://messenger.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200471ave/direct/01/
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
On Apr 22, 2006, at 8:02 AM, Melissa McCarthy wrote: Has anyone on the list ever done anything wildly destructive and/or cathartic with old work, then used the remains to create something new? (I'm thinking of an art bonfire in a metal trashcan in my own case, an idea I've toyed with for a while, and this may be the year) When I was of a certain age, too young to mention, I had my first boy- girl party (that young) and when no one was paying enough attention to me I irrationally went over to fireplace and oh so casually lent elbow against mantel and swept away my younger precious work. At least two lions modeled after the Public Library lions -- my poor memory doesn't clue me in to what else -- were lost. The scary thing is I think it was pre-meditated. I recall practicing sweeping my elbow against the mantel. It was some kind of hail mary commitment to my own private world. Instant regret and it obviously did nothing but embarrass me. I spent the night contemplating sitting on our thirteenth floor ledge but was scared. I thought if I could sit there, legs hanging down, I'd show myself how brave I was. So I sat on the radiator inside with legs out the open window, inching out until it seemed ridiculous. I've ruined work by working on it too much, taking it where it in contradictory nullifying directions. I've also neglected the stuff, which is tantamount to destroying it slowly. I've also been preemptive and recycled some long-worked clay too soon. I keep every scrap now and someone will have to cope with it when I'm gone. Luckily there's a creek nearby, for now, and it would make good landfill. My teacher spoke of how he once threw his early work out over a bridge. It was inspirational, perhaps I'll start with a few known duds. Some ceramic artists recycle work into mosaic. Taking a hammer to work is a badge of honor, of cool-headed appraisal and judgment, good choices and priorities. Not very fluxus.
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
Great story, Kathy! I love the sense of the drama of that age, you know you're sort of discovering the scale at which you want to live, and at that age the desired scale is pretty big, and one's abilities are really not up to it. You discover how much courage you have-- a lot, I think, in your case! I have smashed work, stuffed it in dumpsters, abandoned it (once discovered that the closet it was stuffed in on my departure from san francisco had leaked for a few years (I was gone a long time) because the building had been abandoned. The work was largely ruined but a few drawings had grown beautiful molds. So I took them back. Do medical students frame the cadavers on which they practice? I think it's good to dispose of things when they're no longer alive. On 4/22/06 11:35 AM, Kathy Forer [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: On Apr 22, 2006, at 8:02 AM, Melissa McCarthy wrote: Has anyone on the list ever done anything wildly destructive and/or cathartic with old work, then used the remains to create something new? (I'm thinking of an art bonfire in a metal trashcan in my own case, an idea I've toyed with for a while, and this may be the year) When I was of a certain age, too young to mention, I had my first boy- girl party (that young) and when no one was paying enough attention to me I irrationally went over to fireplace and oh so casually lent elbow against mantel and swept away my younger precious work. At least two lions modeled after the Public Library lions -- my poor memory doesn't clue me in to what else -- were lost. The scary thing is I think it was pre-meditated. I recall practicing sweeping my elbow against the mantel. It was some kind of hail mary commitment to my own private world. Instant regret and it obviously did nothing but embarrass me. I spent the night contemplating sitting on our thirteenth floor ledge but was scared. I thought if I could sit there, legs hanging down, I'd show myself how brave I was. So I sat on the radiator inside with legs out the open window, inching out until it seemed ridiculous. I've ruined work by working on it too much, taking it where it in contradictory nullifying directions. I've also neglected the stuff, which is tantamount to destroying it slowly. I've also been preemptive and recycled some long-worked clay too soon. I keep every scrap now and someone will have to cope with it when I'm gone. Luckily there's a creek nearby, for now, and it would make good landfill. My teacher spoke of how he once threw his early work out over a bridge. It was inspirational, perhaps I'll start with a few known duds. Some ceramic artists recycle work into mosaic. Taking a hammer to work is a badge of honor, of cool-headed appraisal and judgment, good choices and priorities. Not very fluxus.
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
Thanks Ann. Enough courage to retell the story years later but nerve to destroy the stuff of dreams then just to to gain attention. Also newfound awareness to recognize that even the most planned events take on another life when enacted and impulse takes over. Hasn't photography created the idea of image for which the live happening is no longer necessary? Record takes precedence over occurrence, and participants become players in sets, dramatis personae. I recall one artist generating her entire work from bread and then other mold hosts. On Apr 22, 2006, at 12:49 PM, Ann Klefstad wrote: Great story, Kathy! I love the sense of the drama of that age, you know you're sort of discovering the scale at which you want to live, and at that age the desired scale is pretty big, and one's abilities are really not up to it. You discover how much courage you have-- a lot, I think, in your case! I have smashed work, stuffed it in dumpsters, abandoned it (once discovered that the closet it was stuffed in on my departure from san francisco had leaked for a few years (I was gone a long time) because the building had been abandoned. The work was largely ruined but a few drawings had grown beautiful molds. So I took them back. Do medical students frame the cadavers on which they practice? I think it's good to dispose of things when they're no longer alive.
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
On Apr 22, 2006, at 1:28 PM, Allan Revich wrote: I remember when I was 20 or 21 I took a whole series, maybe more that a dozen paintings, each 4 feet by four feet, and burned them in the family fireplace. It felt good and I have never regretted it. There felt something vengeful about my act. Maybe spiteful. Confused and angry. There was catharsis, but then it was as though it had never happened, what was the point? Attention directed away from the stuff to the stuff-maker, objects annulled, repudiated, renounced (in Cecil's act) formally and publicly. But immediate regret, I had been attached to said objects made when I was all of ten, but special, hadn't really wanted to destroy them, just to no longer consider them as important. I made these same time, but they didn't get swept away. I'm glad they didn't. http://kforer.com/gallery/?album=figurative_narrativeimg=6 It could be that I've pursued only archaeology since that first regret, or it could be that's the basis of what I do, make, destroy, extract narrative, recreate.
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
O the Mark Twain Trio is wonderful! It is good they weren't swept away. On 4/22/06 3:04 PM, Kathy Forer [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: On Apr 22, 2006, at 1:28 PM, Allan Revich wrote: I remember when I was 20 or 21 I took a whole series, maybe more that a dozen paintings, each 4 feet by four feet, and burned them in the family fireplace. It felt good and I have never regretted it. There felt something vengeful about my act. Maybe spiteful. Confused and angry. There was catharsis, but then it was as though it had never happened, what was the point? Attention directed away from the stuff to the stuff-maker, objects annulled, repudiated, renounced (in Cecil's act) formally and publicly. But immediate regret, I had been attached to said objects made when I was all of ten, but special, hadn't really wanted to destroy them, just to no longer consider them as important. I made these same time, but they didn't get swept away. I'm glad they didn't. http://kforer.com/gallery/?album=figurative_narrativeimg=6 It could be that I've pursued only archaeology since that first regret, or it could be that's the basis of what I do, make, destroy, extract narrative, recreate.
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
--- Kathy Forer [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: . I made these same time, but they didn't get swept away. I'm glad they didn't. http://kforer.com/gallery/?album=figurative_narrativeimg=6 your lovers entwined is beautiful-Dawg __ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
It's tough enough, we excavate this Stuff -- something out of nothing, that's good -- with great difficulty or ease, but then sometimes go beyond integrity to make capricious judgments or use the work for other purposes, rejecting it, repudiating its truth or validity. But the cycle starts anew and work is made from those salted ashes. Ashes but anew the work starts and from those is made salted cycle. By the willful arrogance of self-destruction, we privatize what had been made possibly too obvious, apparent and available. We eat our children, empowering us in ways powerful and dangerous. But you can also redress absence and failure without disowning or contradicting, by acknowledging and confirming the small possible rather than nullifying. Outwitted He drew a circle that shut me out -- Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle that took him in. -- Edwin Markham
Re: FLUXLIST: Physical stuff
about twenty years ago when i had a wood burning stove i tore and burned about a hundred paintings on paper. it was a great cleansing and i really had to stop myself or i would have burned everything. i have never missed what was tossed on the fire. i no longer heat with wood and we are forbidden to build bonfires because of the fire danger, but i sometimes wish for that old stove in moments of dispair. still at times i have torn up drawings and put them in the trash when i felt they belonged there. bests, carol xx
