[Our monthly feature, Collection Rotation: some wonderful guest organizes a mini-exhibition from our collection works online. This month's guest-curator is the marvelous Fayette Hauser, shining, beautiful Cockette, costume designer, & collector extraordinaire. On December 3, we're hosting the Cockettes for a rare film screening and celebration of their FORTIETH year. You will LOVE this rotation, which includes some Cockette clips. Thank you, Fayette. xxoo, SS ]
When I entered the Artscope it felt like swimming, deeper I went underwater into the image sea. What luxury.
The first artist that hit me was Claude Cahun. Soon I realized that this was a woman, in drag as a man, in drag as a woman. Perhaps she felt genderless or omni-gender, as I often do. Obviously her fantasy life was more important to her than anything. Again I relate.
I grew up in a world of my own, raising myself in fantasy. This world was much more real and vital to me than the other, the actual world. When I first came to San Francisco in 1968, I was already deep into my Victorian fantasy, so excruciatingly dense, but all in my mind. What I found was that everyone was living out their fantasies, seriously. I was home at last.
Of course the psychedelics only amplified this concept. Which brings us to the wild pursuit of the great and fabulous item. There will never be an experience quite as fulfilling and uniquely sublime as the old Alameda Flea Market on Acid. Items would combine themselves in the most profound way, then leap at you and beg to be absorbed into your realm, telling you their stories along the way. I’ve been a collector ever since.
Many of us felt this way and we needed to be together, all the time. So we became the Cockettes and lived together in the Cockette House (actually there were three of them). We went full tilt into the biggest and best of our fantasies, the deeper the better, dark or light, usually all at the same time. We did it for as long as we could, not long enough for me.
Here I’ve assembled a collection that reflects our influences and favorite things. I have added some archival Cockette film clips to tempt you into attending our 40th Anniversary film night at SFMOMA on Dec. 3rd.
Views of Paris c. 1900 complement early Melies and Pathe film clips, while risque French postcards help to illustrate some of the early influences of the gender bending, acid drenched, outrageous Cockettes. (Music on this clip by Baishaus)
This afternoon, SFMOMA is hosting a special memorial service honoring Bay Area sculptor and conceptual artist David Ireland, who passed away last spring. Ireland was a central figure in conceptual art in the Bay Area and beyond. From the 1970s until his death, he produced a highly idiosyncratic body of work concerned with the creation and function of art within everyday life. In place of the blog’s usual mid-month “Collection Rotation”, today we also pay tribute, with a collection of contributions from younger artists, organized by SF artist and musician Scott Hewicker.
David Ireland, Untitled Untitled (Small painted can with Dumbball). N.D. Tin, cement, paint. 7” x 4” x 4”
My home, my work, my artistic and musical practices—essentially my whole life—co-exist on a steady fault line between David Ireland’s two Capp Street houses in San Francisco’s Mission District. 65 Capp Street was the site of the first Capp Street Project, and 500 Capp St, Ireland’s former home and studio, is now also, to my mind, his greatest lasting artwork. The two houses seem at times like two footprints of a standing giant, and he was a giant to me and to many. Fearlessly beginning his career late in life, David’s essential concern was the Zen-like observance of, and dedication to, the ever-lasting present. Using common, readily available materials such as concrete, found wood, and other debris, with the lightest of touch. David could make dirt sing, rewarding our acceptance of his work, but never asking for it. “You can’t make art by making art”, he often said, and you can see in some of the contributions below how many artists have taken that simple but profound idea to heart. I didn’t know him well, but his work and the ideas inherent in their making have always deeply resonated with me, as with others. David’s refusal of personal attachment to the works he made gave me the courage when I left art school to discard all my old work and start over again from scratch.
Our monthly feature, Collection Rotation: some wonderful guest organizes a mini-exhibition from our collection works online. This month’s guest-curator is is SFMOMA’s very own Jefre Cantu, musician in life, and long-time operations tech and resident yoga instructor by SFMOMA day. Thanks Jefre!
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The artwork I chose for this rotation is made up mostly of things that I’ve seen in the galleries here at SFMOMA at some point over the last seven years. The musical accompaniments are not meant to be soundtracks per se, but are rather musical expressions that come to mind when I see the work. I hope through the sound clips & links I have provided, if you hear anything interesting, you could lead yourself into further discovery.
Originally a student of musique concrete heavyweights Pierre Schaeffer and Pierre Henry, French composer Eliane Radigue created her first long form (what she describes as ‘unfolding’)drone work for a Buchla synthesizer while at NYU in 1970. Four years later, while performing under the invitation of Terry Riley at Mills Collage, Radigue was introduced to Tibetan Buddhism; she later converted and gave up music-making to study Buddhism full time. Lucky for us her guru urged her to drone again & since the early 70s she’s crafted a massive body of work for both synthesizer & acoustic instruments. Radigue’s music does not at all lend itself to the soundbite. It’s just enormous.
Our monthly feature, Collection Rotation: some wonderful guest organizes a mini-exhibition from our collection works online. This month’s guest-curator is the artist Mads Lynnerup, whose work is included in the current Media Arts exhibition The Studio Sessions. Mads lived and worked in the Bay Area for several years, now he’s moved on to even more urban pastures. Thanks Mads!
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Untitled
After exploring the permanent collection of SFMOMA both in person and virtually I became curious about the number of artworks in the collection which are “untitled.” While accumulating all of the “untitled” works from SFMOMA’s website, which lists many of the permanent collection online, I started thinking about why so many artworks end up without a title. Some might say it’s a sign of laziness and others will say that an “untitled” artwork leaves the smallest distraction for the interpretation of it. Besides these two more obvious arguments, I did discover that there are hardly any pieces or documents in the Architecture and Design collection that are untitled, and it seems to be more common to “untitle” a photograph than any other media in the collection, which in some way seems a little backwards, given the number of photographs that a photographer deals with in his or her practice.
Our regular feature, Collection Rotation! Every month I invite a local guest to organize a mini-exhibition or grouping from our collection works online. This month’s guest DJ? Timothy Buckwalter, painter, writer, critic, crank. I think that’s okay to say, Tim? As always, fine guest blogging, just below. Images link to collection pages. xo, SS
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate
LINER NOTES: In 1992, shortly after moving to San Francisco, I stumbled into SFMOMA, just in time to view the Richard Prince retrospective. It was love at first sight. My twenty-something self, fresh from the East Coast, loved the smart-assness of Prince the hipster, but was smitten, at a much deeper level, with the museum itself. The permanent collection ran back only a hundred or so years in time. Everything seemed so young, the ideas so new-ish. It was like I was walking around inside myself.
Don’t get me wrong— it’s not that I hadn’t been in a serious relationship with a museum before.
As a matter of fact, I had just quit a three-year gig in the public relations department at the Philadelphia Museum of Art and knew that illustrious collection inside and out. It was just that here in San Francisco, I was surrounded by work that talked the same talk as me, not the King’s English or Latin or some other long lost language.
I mean, yeah, it’s really great to be able to connect with people from a long time ago and to know that art, having been passed down through the centuries like language, is one of humanity’s great achievements. But when I’m feeling like a loser, or I’m feeling triumphant or I’m feeling lonely, it’s super to know that I can walk through a collection in my own town that offers me the chance to be around others who are trying to explain what it means to be human right now. A chance at “feeling yourself disintegrate.”
Once a month a local guest organizes lists, groupings, or ‘exhibitions’ from our permanent collection. Our wonderful guest this month is Meara O’Reilly, sound and visual artist, invited as timely accompaniment to our current LiveArt project, Mika Tajima and New Humans. Thanks to Meara for a truly AWESOME rotation. Enjoy.
———————————- Resonance and illusion games: resonant frequencies of spaces, objects, and humans, and illusions that arise out of play.
In my own research, I try to find a disputable balance between scientific and subjective perception. I’m interested in the idea of learning as a beautiful physical experience or performance or even a game—creating a situation where individual perception of a piece can be as much a part of the process as the artist’s intent or an objective material-based truth.
Josef Albers stated this elegantly: “Experience teaches that in [visual] perception there is a discrepancy between fact and psychic effect.” I’d like to pair this with something of John Cage’s I read many years ago, where he talked about music as anything that improves audition (the process of hearing). To me, each of these statements poses a similar challenge—to create experiences that both trick and heighten our senses.
In the study of acoustics, every material or space has a set of resonances or frequencies at which it most easily vibrates. An opera singer’s high note shattering a glass may be an old wives’ tale, but the image is indelible. Sound becomes a new and heightened quantity, a visual and tactile event. In a film of a recent performance by the New Humans, a car resting on a sheet of glass is amplified and destroyed in the factory of its origin. Every strike of the sledgehammer and crack of glass is sonically fortified; the car sounds as though it is being dismantled by its own resonance.
To me, finding the resonant frequencies of an object or space is akin to creating a sound mirage of its dimensions. Auditory illusions also show us how we can perceive tonal information as something other than the sum of its parts. Illusions are, in general, experiences that arise out of bilateral symmetry (the fact that humans have a mirrored pair of almost everything—two ears, two eyes, etc) and the interactions or miscommunications that occur between halves. Our sense of spatiality and depth is entirely ruled by these pairs—finding our way in the dark, we calculate locations of obstacles by the different amounts of time the sound reflections take to reach each ear; when climbing a set of stairs the interactions between our eyes allow us to know the depth of the step we must take.
Many of the artists I have selected defy perceptual boundaries in some way, or use materials in a manner that demands a combined sense, or synaesthesia, of the perceiver. I tried to pick works that leap out of their medium or intended coordinates of perception: sculptures or spaces that beg to be sung into; paintings that shimmer or hover above canvas; bodies that just can’t seem to get comfortable; stereo-view photographs that coax our binocular vision into three dimensions. Then I paired them with musical compositions and practices that also ride along the boundaries of perception. Whether ‘playing’ scissors, or resonating the inner ear of the listener so that it actually begins to emit sound, these artists work in illusions.
“How May Your Parents and Your Employer Help You In Your Cricket Career?” Chris Corsano, The Young Cricketer, FamilyVineyard 2008
All the old albumen print photographs are incredible to me, simultaneously tactile and ephemeral—ah, to be made out of egg white, and salt, and silver, and sunlight! They remind me of a recent NY Times story about a newly blind painter who wanted to paint again so badly he learned to tell colours apart by the weight of the various pigments in his hands. Chris Corsano’s drumming reminds me of that kind of dedication to the transmutability of materials. Without any amplification, overdubs or effects he seems out to find the resonant frequency of every object he touches, listening as much as he performs. I’d love to hear what the inside of this cave sounds like….
[Our regular feature, "Collection Rotation". A local guest organizes a mini-exhibition from our collections pages online. Today's guest is CHUCK MOBLEY, curator at San Francisco Camerawork, right next door. Almost all the musical guests have local connections to SF. Pictures link back to collection pages. Thanks Chuck!]
————————————————– An imaginary studio apartment in The Tenderloin in two inadequate descriptive systems
The SFMOMA collections website interface is like a store, but better. It’s like a thrift store where you never know what you’ll find. Surprise makes shopping fun! This is partly why if I ever have to shop I shop at Goodwill or online. So, basically I just went shopping for my apartment in the Tenderloin by looking up items tagged “functional,” though I did pick some inessentials as well, mostly for inspiration. In these inflationary times it’s better to just imagine shopping than to actually shop. I only chose very practical things because I’m a very pragmatic person. Also, since my neighborhood has not been gentrified, I tried not to be too conspicuous in my imagined consumption. I chose stuff that doesn’t look like it’s worth much or that I can hide in my pocket easily.
As for the song pairings, I’d like to think they’re self-evident so I won’t go into that. However, I’ve included links for each band in case anyone is interested.
Tom Sachs, Knoll Loveseat and End Table, 1996
Reading Rosalind Krauss, by The Size Queens, Our Literal Speed
I like the way Tom Sachs thinks. I returned home from work the other day to find a gigantic phone book outside my door and I thought to myself with some disgust: “Who uses these anymore?” This artist clearly knows it’s good to recycle useless stuff! Plus it’s better to have knock-offs than the real thing: if there’s a fire or some kind of catastrophe you wouldn’t feel terrible about this burning up because you could just make a new one.
[Our regular feature, "Collection Rotation". Once a month I invite a local guest to organize lists, groupings, or 'exhibitions' from our permanent collection. To coincide with the opening of William Kentridge's direction of the Monteverdi opera The Return of Ulysses, I asked San Francisco Opera General Director David Gockley to pair bits of opera with a selection of images I sent over. Many thanks to Jon Finck and Kip Cranna and everyone at the SF Opera who collaborated on this fabulous rotation. Note: Listen loud. And, images link back to collection pages, in case you'd like more info.]
Richard Wagner: Die Walküre (The Valkyrie), “The Ride of the Valkyries.” Performed by the San Francisco Opera Orchestra, conducted by Donald Runnicles
There is an electrifying buzz of excitement in the air as Wotan’s warrior-maidens swoop across the sky on their way to collect fallen heroes from the battlefield, soaring above as in the gravity-defying somersaults of these performers.
Vincenzo Bellini: Norma Duet, “Mira, o Norma” Performed by Catherine Naglestad (Norma) and Irina Mishura (Adalgisa), with the San Francisco Opera Orchestra conducted by Oleg Caetani
Moving in perfect, serene synchronization like these elegant swimmers, Norma and her confidante Adalgisa sing in perfect harmony as they swear to be true and faithful friends, never letting a man come between them.
Alfred Stieglitz, Dorothy Norman, 1932. Gelatin silver print. Gift of Georgia O’Keeffe
Giacomo Puccini: Suor Angelica (Sister Angelica), “Senza Mama.” Performed by Leona Mitchell, with the San Francisco Opera Orchestra conducted by Nello Santi
Forced to enter a convent after bearing a son out of wedlock, Sister Angelica mourns at the news that her little boy has died: “You died without your mother, not knowing how much I loved you!”
Charles Gounod: Faust, “A moi les plaisirs!” Performed by Richard Leech (Faust) and Samuel Ramey (Mephistopheles), with the San Francisco Opera Orchestra, conducted by Patrick Summers
Faust, the aged, lonely scholar bent over his desk, disillusioned and weary of his fruitless studies in search of knowledge and wisdom, casts aside his work and excitedly cries out for a new life: “Give me youth, desire, ecstasy, pleasure!” The demon Mephistopheles eggs him on.
Giuseppe Verdi: Il Trovatore (The Troubadour), “The Anvil Chorus.” Performed by the San Francisco Opera Chorus and Orchestra, conducted by Marco Armiliato
The ringing and clanging of bright shining metal resounds as the gypsies hammer away at their anvils, fashioning polished steel to the sounds of their singing.
Giacomo Puccini, Madama Butterfly, “The Humming Chorus.” Performed by the San Francisco Opera Chorus and Orchestra, conducted by Donald Runnicles
Subtly shifting colors streak across the sky, turning it purplish and then grey as night falls, and the humming of unseen voices accompanies Miss Butterfly’s vigil as she awaits the dawn and the arrival of her beloved.
Giacomo Puccini: La Bohème, “Quando me’n vo’”, Performed by Norah Amsellem, with the San Francisco Opera Orchestra, conducted by Nicola Luisotti
Like Matisse’s high-fashion lady in her trendy hat, the high-spirited flirt Musetta prances on the arm of her rich sugar daddy, telling how she loves the admiring glances of men who seem to be undressing her with their eyes.
[This month's Collection Rotation features a selection of SFMOMA works paired with songs by Bay Area bands, organized by Chris Appelgren & the fabulous people at Noise Pop. If you're checking in from outside the Bay, SF's Noise Pop Festival is one of the nation's most popular annual independent music events, and what started off as a one-night, one-off event at a dingy local club in1993 now showcases 100-plus bands in over 10 venues over the course of six days. This year's festival starts TOMORROW & marks Noise Pop's 17th anniversary.]
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LINER NOTES: Despite the scope and history of the festival, Noise Pop is still produced by a small staff along with a dedicated army of volunteers. This means that everyone is able to play a meaningful role in selecting the performers, filmmakers and artists whose work we celebrate the last week of February each year and as a result we are all exposed to incredible amounts of local music talent. The San Francisco music community is a moving target with amazing and diverse talents. I selected a handful of songs by local bands that for me enriched the experience of these pieces from SFMOMA’s permanent collection.
The red, black and grey-pink colors and urgent lines of Hodgetts + Fung’s drawing seem to mirror the frayed tone, sketched looseness, & warm angularity of Magic Me’s “Pink Howitzer Blues.” The song and image share the same anxiety and desperation to me.
Honeycut, “Exodus Honey”, from The Day I Turned To Glass, Quannum Records
Jacob Jenson’s Beosystem, with its bold, future-facing simplicity suggests the promise of a clean, beautiful, and enjoyable tomorrow. Honeycut’s “Exodus Honey” seems the fulfillment and extension of that promise, with intertwined electronic and analog melodies, bouncing rhythms and winking lyrics like “Stop the war / But I still want to have my car / So I can drink and drive / I can’t believe that I am still alive.”
Or, The Whale, “Call and Response”, from Light Poles and Pines, Seany Records
Or, The Whale’s twangy harmonies are vengeful spirits that declare “We’re headed back to New Orleans / Cuz starting now the world begins / And all our lives were lost in vain / Now they’ve got more to fear than a hurricane.” New Orleans, in the song, is a very literal Land’s End.
Thee Oh Sees, “Iceberg”, from The Oh Sees Suck Blood, Castle Face Records
Bay Area native Richard Serra’s Right Angle Plus One is reminiscent of the giant, otherworldly steel mills of Oakland and Emeryville (where bright shiny shopping centers now reside). Serra worked in the steel mills while attending UC Berkeley in the 60’s. San Francisco’s Thee Oh Sees’ song Iceberg suggests a cold, unyielding monolith in echo-chamber boy/girl whispers.
John Beasley Greene, Tombeau de la chrétienne [Tomb of the Christian Woman], 1856; albumenized salt print; 10 3/8 in. x 12 1/16 in. (26.35 cm x 30.64 cm); Collection SFMOMA, Accessions Committee Fund purchase
Papercuts, “John Brown”, from Can’t Go Back, Gnomonsong Records
John Beasley Greene’s “Burial Mound” photograph was taken in 1856, the same year that American Abolitionist John Brown, who remains controversial today, may or may not have participated in the vicious murder of five pro-slavery settlers in Kansas. The simple, stark memorial to the dead in Greene’s photo seems a message to the future that nothing is permanent. The Papercuts’ song also reminds us that we cannot outrun history.
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Chris Appelgren is the marketing director and general manager of Noise Pop Industries, responsible for producing the Noise Pop and Treasure Island Music Festivals. He is also the owner of Lookout Records, the Northern California record company responsible for albums by Operation Ivy, Green Day and The Donnas. Chris was president of the label from 1997 to 2005 where his duties included art direction. Chris has created original artwork and album designs for bands including Blatz, Green Day, The Donnas, The Queers, Ted Leo & The Pharmacists and Pretty Girls Make Graves. You can read an interview with him here.]
[Our regular feature, "Collection Rotation". Every month or so I invite a local guest to organize lists, groupings, or 'exhibitions' from our permanent collection. Our wonderful guest this month is Bay Area artist Tucker Nichols.][Note: clicking through on the images will take you to our collection pages, with more info on art and artist.]
Ten Natural Pairs
Collected by Tucker Nichols
Creating an online exhibition from SFMOMA’s permanent collection carries the luxury of choice without the hassles of scheduling or installation. The options are seemingly endless. Rather than come up with an idea and then hunt for fitting examples, I decided to take an afternoon to look at every image in the permanent collection available online. When something jumped out at me, I saved it in a folder. I didn’t think about what I was collecting or why. When I went back to look at the folder, natural pairs formed before my eyes. It was kind of eerie, really — every image found a partner for one reason or another.
Why is the most basic organizing principle to put like things with like things? What does it do for us? I can only guess that there are simply too many things in the world. It’s beyond our comprehension to take them all in. But when we group similar objects, we can begin to digest them. It’s why we have the cereal aisle — a typical US supermarket would be even more overwhelming if we didn’t organize everything by shared attributes. Once we’re able to look beyond the volume, we can start to see what’s there. The group below represents ten of the pairs that formed in my folder.
Pair of torsos
Left: John Coplans, Self-Portrait (Back with Arms Above), 1984, gelatin silver print. Right: Robert Gober, Untitled, 1990, beeswax, pigment, and human hair
Pair of transcendent whites
Left: Hiroshi Sugimoto, Canton Palace, Ohio, 1980, gelatin silver print. Right: Robert Ryman, Untitled [E], 1965, enamel on linen
Pair of instantaneous artworks
Left: Marcel Duchamp, Fountain, 1917/1964. Glazed ceramic with black paint. Right: Bruce Nauman, Study for Hologram, 1970. Screen print on Kromekote paper.
Left: Mitch Epstein, Untitled, New York 1996, 1996. Chromogenic print.Right: Todd Hido, Untitled #2027-A, from the series House Hunting, 1996-1998. Chromogenic print
Pair of photos of the planet
Left: William Anders/NASA/Michael Light, Earthrise Seen for the First Time By Human Eyes, 1968/1999, digital chromogenic print. Right: Bill Owens, World Savings opening day 1975, 1975, gelatin silver print.
Pair of Memphis Egglestons
Left: William Eggleston, Untitled, Memphis, 1970, 1970, dye transfer print. Right: William Eggleston, Untitled, Memphis, 1970, 1970, dye transfer print.
Pair of editing as artwork
Top: Christian Marclay, Video Quartet, 2002, four-channel video projection with sound. Bottom: Tauba Auerbach, Alphabetized Bible, 2006, offset lithograph
Pair of circles of identical white objects
Left: Richard Long, Chalk Circle, 1986, chalk. Right: Rody Graumans, Chandelier 85 Lamps, 1993, lightbulbs, cords, and sockets
Pair of mildly depressing photographs of life in America
Left: Mitch Epstein, Amos Power Plant Raymond, West Virgina, 2004. Chromogenic print. Right: Larry Sultan, Practicing Golf Swing, 1989. Chromogenic print.
[A special election-week Collection Rotation by San Francisco-based artist & curator Chris Sollars, whose experimental documentary C RED BLUE J will be screening in the Wattis theater Nov 4. All works collection SFMOMA & listed in detail at the bottom of this post.]
At Home in Red & Blue Brother Sister America
Growing up, my sister Jennifer was Red and I was Blue, between the colors of objects in our rooms, beds, clothes, and backpacks. Looking back, I think it’s strange that growing up during the 70s and 80s Reagan’s Republican America appropriated Socialist RED from the USSR.
The opening dream of my recent film C RED BLUE J was a playful way to study the color red used in politics: A Red Phone rings and alerts us of the Enemy—the British Red Coats, The Red Man (not Karl Marx, but he is next), Soviet Red, Red China—and is intercut with a Red finger painting from my childhood, Pete Rose of the Cincinnati Reds, and Red USA Olympic Athlete Jackets. The USA Formal Athlete Jackets, ironically, are from the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics, boycotted by the Soviet Union. I almost think it was a conscious decision to appropriate the “Enemy’s” color as a way to diffuse or re-appropriate it.
In the title C RED BLUE J, C is for Christopher, J is for Jennifer and the RED & BLUE is between us. It also is a play on words: to See a Red Blue Jay, something you would never see but could imagine. Here to coincide with the election I am using C RED BLUE J as a model and method for selecting works from the SFMOMA collection.
I’ve squeezed some of my favorite artists from the collection into the mix. Gordon Matta-Clark, Hans Haacke, Pipilotti Rist, Phillip Guston, Robert Gober, and Edward Kienholz. New favorites from recent visits include Untitled [Man holding eagle with spread wings] and Tim Gardner’s Untitled (S with Mt. Robson). (Not only is “S” holding a Mt Beer can in front of a mountain, the beer is a BUScH!)
I’ve included Nauman’s Study for Hologram, in part because of his influence (along with William Wegman’s) both on my work and my voice in C RED BLUE J. There my voice is presented by cutting back and forth between close-ups of my eyes and mouth while talking. Here, Nauman’s Study suggests to me ideas of self-censorship in America. Friedlander’s House on Highway and Gordon Matta-Clark’s Splitting (one of my favorite works of all time) have changed for me, both from reconsidering the construction and deconstruction of my childhood homes, and since the housing market collapse. It’s great that these works are so accessible and constant but continuously shifting and changing in meaning as the world does.
The personal narrative in this sequence of works is further activated for me through the inclusion of children. Boys and Girls as Brother and Sister add a playfulness to the RED & BLUE pairings. This also allows for my sister and I to be included in the series of works selected from the collection.
Chris Sollars‘ work revolves around the reclamation and subversion of public space through urban interventions, the results of which are integrated into mixed media video installations. Chris is also director and curator of 667Shotwell, which he started in 2001, during the wake of disappearing San Francisco art-spaces. The recently completed C RED BLUE J is an experimental documentary featuring his sister, who works for the Bush Administration, his Born Again father, and his Lesbian mother to illustrate the complications of division during the 2004 Presidential election.
[Our regular feature, "Collection Rotation". Once a month I invite a local guest to organize lists, groupings, or 'exhibitions' from our permanent collection. Our guest this month is KALX DJ and local bloggerHeidi De Vries, who has spoiled us with a very personal look at some of her favorite works. She includes notes about her selections along the way. Thanks, Heidi! P.S.! Heidi! Thanks!]
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Liner Notes
For my Collection Rotation I picked artworks that I remember from my countless visits to SFMOMA over the last decade as having strong emotional resonance for me, and then linked those pieces to music tracks that summon similar feelings. The Janet Cardiff and the Christian Marclay (below) have their own integral soundtracks already, so those I left “blank”. Otherwise while I explain below why I selected a particular piece of art, I’m just going to let the accompanying music speak for itself.
It was in Barbara Hepworth’s sculpture garden in St Ives, England, at the very end of my teenage years that I truly connected to modern art for the first time, in a moment that was nothing less than epiphany. I still get a residual thrill down my spine every time I run into one of her pieces:
Barbara Hepworth, Landscape Sculpture, 1944/196. Bronze and string. Collection SFMOMA
Sigur Rós: “Glósóli” from Takk…, Geffen 2005
My awesome and super-smart physicist grandfather worked on the Manhattan Project during World War II, and since I’ve been old enough to reason I’ve been aware of the moral ambiguities surrounding what he was asked to do by his government. Chris Burden nails the horror and confusion of the birth of the atomic age at the same time that he tries to set some order to it. Victory is in there, but it’s pretty darn close to the bottom:
Chris Burden, The Atomic Alphabet, 1980. Photoetching, soft-ground etching, and watercolor on paper. Collection SFMOMA
Crystal Castles: “Untrust Us” from Crystal Castles, Last Gang 2008
I can relate to the worried faces of McGee’s sad sack characters, and as someone who loves to roam city streets the references in his work back to his roots in graffiti and street art make me very happy. His wife, the late Margaret Kilgallen, is also my favorite artist ever.
Barry McGee, Untitled, 1996. Mixed media installation. Collection SFMOMA
Tom Waits: “Widow’s Grove” from Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards, Anti 2006
Marclay brings together three of my great passions: music, art, and film. And with some devastatingly good editing too. It almost seems cruel to include this one on a blog where you can’t see it in motion or hear it, so next time it goes on display I highly recommend making a special trip. In the meanwhile, there’s an unauthorized bootleg shot at Tate Modern over at YouTube.
Christian Marclay, Video Quartet, 2002. Four channel video projection with sound. Collection SFMOMA
I very much admire Hesse’s fearlessness, especially in her use of unconventional (and dangerous!) materials, and I love the metaphors she draws between architectural forms and the body. She is an absolute inspiration:
Eva Hesse, Sans II, 1968. Fiberglass and polyester resin. Collection SFMOMA
Magazine: “A Song from Under the Floorboards” from The Correct Use of Soap, Virgin 1980
Another piece to be experienced in person, Cardiff leads the listener into an immersive and wonderfully disorienting mini-tour of SFMOMA using her voice and a video camera as guide. I’ve done it many times and my heart still stutters during the part in the employee stairwell, as menacing footsteps approach…
Janet Cardiff, The Telephone Call, 2001. Audio and video walk through the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Collection SFMOMA
[Nota Bene: Janet Cardiff's piece will be available again as part of the upcoming Art of Participation exhibition, starting Nov 8--SS]The voyeuristic aspect of watching Kiarostami’s film of a sleeping couple is completely seductive to me, as in real time they move together and then apart in a rhythm uniquely their own. Simultaneously sexy and sweet, part of the allure of the piece comes from the fact it is projected onto what looks like a bed, right on the floor of the gallery:
His Name Is Alive: “Where Knock Is Open Wide” from Mouth by Mouth, 4AD 1992
Everything Richter does is amazing to me, both his photorealistic paintings and his more abstract work. One of my cats is named Richter after him (the other one is named Cardiff after Janet):
Gerhard Richter, Lesende (Reading), 1994. Oil on linen. Collection SFMOMA
Angels of Light: “Kosinski” from Everything Is Good Here/Please Come Home, Young God 2003
A fellow Dutchwoman, Dijkstra’s photos of young people on the beach reference the lighting and poses of Renaissance painting at the same time that they capture that totally awkward moment between childhood and modern adulthood. My godchild Sophie is rapidly approaching this moment herself, so I’ve been thinking a lot about how best I can help her through:
Rineke Dijkstra, Hilton Head Island, SC USA, June 24, 1992, 1992. Chromogenic prin. Collection SFMOMA.
Caesars: “Fun and Games” from 39 Minutes of Bliss (In an Otherwise Meaningless World), Astralwerks 2003
No actual body here, just the imprint of Mendieta’s form. Her work always makes me think of the intangibility of what we leave behind after we’re gone:
Ana Mendieta, Untitled, from the series Silueta Works in Iowa, 1978. Gelatin silver print Collection SFMOMA.
Wire: “Ahead” from The Ideal Copy, Mute 1986
Time marches inexorably forward as Miyajima’s long line of LED-light counter numbers roll over, some fast and some very slow. You know what number will follow another number but not necessarily when, and it is totally my personality to stare at a particularly stubborn counter and will it to move:
Tatsuo Miyajima, Counter Line, 1997. 224 red LEDs, 6 aluminum rails, 6 transformers, and connecting wire. Collection SFMOMA.
k-os: “The Love Song” from Joyful Rebellion, Astralwerks 2004
This video consists of a single shot of a cat drinking a bowl of cream, absolutely brilliant in its simplicity. I don’t remember a soundtrack beyond perhaps a gentle lapping of milk; I thought here it would be OK to add a little Trenet. The first time I saw the piece there was a small boy in the room watching with me, and as soon as the cat finished its bowl he threw his hands up in the air and declared happily: “All done!”
Peter Fischli and David Weiss, Busi (Kitty), 2001. Single-channel video with sound. Collection SFMOMA.
Charles Trenet: “Boum!” from Y’a D’la Joie, Chanson Francaise 1997
[Heidi De Vries works in media production by day and spends all her extracurricular time soaking up art and culture in the Bay Area and cities around the world. She is also a volunteer DJ at KALX Berkeley 90.7fm and is currently on the air Sunday afternoons 3-6pm. You can also find her at her blog, Engineer's Daughter.]
[Our regular feature, "Collection Rotation". Once a month I invite a local guest to organize lists, groupings, or 'exhibitions' from our permanent collection. Our fabulous guest this month is Carson Bell, Curatorial Specialist at the California Library of Natural Sounds, at the Oakland Museum. Wait til you see/hear what he's done for you! He includes notes about his selections along the way. Thank you, Carson!]
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Liner Notes:When I was four years old I picked up the wonderfully colored and detailed Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album from my parent’s record collection and stared at the cover. My tiny hands fumbled as I flipped the record over and over, playing it for hours on end. Since that moment the relationship between sound and image has played an important role in my life.
The chance to pair works from the impressive SFMOMA collection with audio recordings from the California Library of Natural Sounds is incredibly exciting for me. While recording music or ambient sounds I am constantly visualizing cinematic images to accompany the audio. The following Collection Rotation is my attempt to use works of art as album covers for my ‘7″-singles collection’ of sounds from the natural world.
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The Northern Elephant Seal is my favorite California mammal. The male Elephant Seal makes wild vocalizations with his large nose, or proboscis, when he fights with other males for the attention of females. Gorky’s Enigmatic Combat immediately brings to mind the chaotic and humorous sounds of an Elephant Seal harem.
Arshile Gorky, Enigmatic Combat, 1936-1937, Collection SFMOMA, and the Northern Elephant Seal
This haunting image of Man Ray’s Untitled (Rayograph) seems to buzz like the strange electronic sound made by the Varied Thrush. The Thrush produces sounds from a divided vocal box, or syrinx, which is separated into two chambers. The birds can control each side separately.
Man Ray, Untitled (Rayograph), 1920s, Collection SFMOMA, Gift of Robert Shapazian
Ruge’s parachute photo gives the viewer a spectacular view of flight, much like a male red-tailed hawk. The hawk will go into a sudden, steep nosedive during his courtship display, while making a raspy cry. Each expresses its movement with dramatic effect.
Willi Ruge, Aviation, ca. 1931, Collection SFMOMA, Accessions Committee Fund
Peregrine Falcons have been known to nest on man-made structures like bridges. Two of the most famous Peregrines, George and Gracie, chose to nest on the Bay Bridge in 2007.
Joseph Stella, Bridge, 1936, WPA Federal Arts Project
The Hermit Thrush’s song is an echoing, fluty warble that helps the male project his message. The dizzying quality of Sheeler’s Aerial Gyrations instantly reminds me of the Hermit Thrush call.
Charles Sheeler, Aerial Gyrations, 1953, Collection SFMOMA, Mrs. Manfred Bransten Special Fund purchase
Like Eggleston’s brilliant photo brimming with red, the male Red-winged Blackbird shows off his striking red shoulders. The Red-winged Blackbird’s vibrant red coloring and loud, raucous song are used to defend his territory and attract a mate.
William Eggleston, Untitled, Greenwood Mississippi, 1973 1973, Collection SFMOMA, Gift of a friend of the Museum
In my opinion, the Lazuli Bunting not only has the best name in the bird world, but is also one of the most striking-looking. Diebenkorn’s Berkeley #57’s wonderful mix of blues and yellows immediately reminds me of the Bunting’s beauty.
Richard Diebenkorn, Berkeley #57, 1955, Collection SFMOMA
Bison shakes the alphabet.
Jack W. Stauffacher, Untitled, from the series, Shifting and Inking, 1967
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Carson Bell is the Curatorial Specialist for the California Library of Natural Sounds (CLNS) located at the Oakland Museum of California. Carson is a graduate of the California College of the Arts with a degree in Film and Video. He has worked in the music industry for over ten years, writing, producing records, and performing for Bay Area acts The Pattern and The Cuts, and has toured as a session musician for New York-based band The Mooney Suzuki. Carson is currently working on developing interactive media exhibits for the Oakland Museum of California and recording natural sounds for the CLNS collection.
[Our regular feature, "Collection Rotation". Each month or so I invite a local guest to organize lists, groupings, or 'exhibitions' from our permanent collection. This is our second installment, devised by artist & curator Karla Milosevich, who includes notes about her selections along the way. Thanks Karla!]
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LINER NOTES:
When invited to put together a group from the collection, I thought of what a neighborhood florist once said, “Everything matches.” And the chef Giada De Laurentiis, granddaughter of film producer Dino De Laurentiis, who said, “Don’t be careful, just throw it all in.” This is that kind of collection. There is no real rhyme or reason, just artists or things that appeal to me. I hope you enjoy it. –KM
—-When this photo was taken in 1979, I lived 80 miles from here:
Franz Gohlke, Wichita Falls, Texas, April 14, 1979, Looking Northeast, 1979
—-I searched the online collection for all things American Indian, since they too once roamed that area of Texas. I also searched for aliens, UFOs, and other things supernatural:
Jo Baer, Untitled, 1964-1972
Maximilian Franz Josef Cornelius Wolf, The Milky Way, c. 1900
Maximilian Franz Josef Cornelius Wolf and Johann Palisa, Star Map, from the album Photographische Sternkarten (Photographic Star Maps), 1903
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—-I love Martin Kippenberger!—-
Martin Kippenberger, Untitled, 1991
(I am particularly fond of his self-portrait drawings on hotel and mental hospital stationery.)
Martin Kippenberger, Untitled, 1990
Martin Kippenberger, The Raft of the Medusa, 1996.
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Check him out posing for an etching in this video shot in 1977. —So cute!
[Anglik Riemer does some drawing for an etching portrait of Martin Kippenberger in her studio (1977)]
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—-Mind mirror!—-
Dan Graham, Opposing Mirrors and Video Monitors on Time Delay, 1974/1993
I thought about this song when thinking about Jeremy Blake and how he disappeared into the ocean:
“I’ve just closed my eyes again
climbed aboard the dream weaver train.
Driver take away my worries of today
and leave tomorrow behind.
Oh dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night.
Oh dream weaver
I believe we can reach the morning light.
Fly me high through the starry skies
maybe to an astral plane.
Cross the highways of fantasy.
Help me to forget today’s pain.
Though the dawn may be coming soon
there still may be some time.
Fly me away to the bright side of the moon and meet me on the other side.”
Jeremy Blake, 1906, from the Winchester series [video with sound/digital animation with sound], 2003
Gary Wright, “Dream Weaver”, from The Dream Weaver, Warner Bros., 1975
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Karla Milosevich is an artist and curator living in San Francisco. She is currently working on a music project and running the Right Window art space with friends.
[As a timely intermission here in the middle of the JUNE ALEXANDERPLATZ onslaught, we introduce a new regular feature. Each month or so we'll ask a local guest to organize lists, groupings, or 'exhibitions' from our permanent collection, to be presented here on the blog. For our first installment, I invited two long-time Bay Area artists, Scott Hewicker and Cliff Hengst, who are also musicians, record collectors, and DJs, to select their favorite works and pair them with song clips, a permanent-collection "playlist", our first "Collection Rotation." It's fantastic! You will very much enjoy. Many thanks to Scott and Cliff. A teaser sample just below. Click through HERE to see & hear the full rotation. xo, SS]
Susan Meiselas, Lena on the Bally Box, Essex Junction, Vermont, from the series Carnival Strippers, 1973
Edwyn Collins: “A Girl Like You” Setanta Records, 1994
