A few years back while roaming around the Brooklyn Museum I stumbled upon televisions playing a variety of Andy Warhol "Screen Tests" (1964-1966), those wonderful black and white portraits that showed Warhol's fascination with people, their subtle facial movements, their discomfort with the camera's gaze, and their sometimes anxious presentation of "self". That art is often about time and memory gives these glimpses of individuals added historical and personal resonance. All these short "living portraits" benefit from being shown in slow motion and from the inference of seriality that stems from seeing them en masse. Collectively they run for thirty two hours and form a kind of casual portrait of a particular cultural stew, that of New York in the Sixties in general, and the Silver Factory's inhabitants and visitors in particular. I must say I was stunned by their fluid beauty, quiet intensity, and ultimately Warhol's potency as a portraitist without resorting to idealization, sentimentality, or the tired techniques of traditional portraiture that can easily turn to illustration. Not bad for someone who started life as a commercial illustrator.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Most images in this post-literate IPhone camera world reek of a self-importance that make the recognition of visual poetry or any kind of "art" nearly impossible. It seems inertia and banality are the norm giving way to a sentimentality once only found in greeting cards.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
I'm giving serious consideration to selling a small amount (10) of the gray pins used to patch my vintage EMS Synthi AKS via the Muffwiggler marketplace. Different color pins (red, green, yellow, white, gray) have different resistor values and therefore change that sound when patching, however subtlety. Check Muff in a few days for the entry. *SOLD
Saturday, October 4, 2014
If painting is to be worth anything at all, the artist should be given over to a fundamental skepticism concerning specific meaning, and replace it with something far more fluid and dynamic. While form may be seen as a tyrannical necessity and a sign of closure, the gesture of becoming brings a wholly subjective language to unfamiliar eyes without being mired in certainty. In this way the painter would be wise to seek an ill-fitting tension and live with that discomfort.
Viva may indeed have been the most exotically beautiful and intelligent of the Warhol "Superstars", appearing in such films as NUDE RESTAURANT, BIKE BOY (both 1967), LONESOME COWBOYS (1968) and BLUE MOVIE (1969). It was her peripatetic intelligence, fearlessness on camera and off, and ability to improvise dialogue that made her essential to Warhol's "let's make a movie" modus operandi. That this sweet Catholic girl with ultra-conservative parents could perform intercourse on camera (a first for a "name" actress) while retaining her chatterbox persona (talking to co-star Louis Waldron about the Vietnam War, cooking, and taking a shower) did little to help Warhol avoid obscenity charges. BTW, the movie's punning title and blue tint are the result of a technical error in keeping with Warhol's child-like delight in chance, ineptitude, and calculated dumbness.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
"The concept of "obscenity" is tested when we dare to look at something that we desire to see but have forbidden ourselves to look at. When we feel that everything has been revealed, "obscenity" disappears and there is a certain liberation. When that which one had wanted to see isn't sufficiently revealed, however, the taboo remains, the feeling of "obscenity stays, and an even greater "obscenity" comes into being."
from THEORY OF EXPERIMENTAL PORNOGRAPHIC FILM (1976)