ed halter
Since 2002
Works in Brooklyn, New York United States of America

I’ll Be Your Mirror

Image: Candice Breitz, Factum Kang, 2009.

Candice Breitz’s current exhibition "Candice Breitz: Same Same" at The Power Plant in Toronto includes the premiere of the first works in Factum, a series commissioned by the gallery. Named after a pair of paintings by Robert Rauchenberg, Factum I and Factum II (both 1957), that appear indistinguishable but reveal differences on closer inspection, Breitz’s Factum consists of interviews with identical twins, found by placing ads on craigslist in Toronto and in the city’s alternative weekly. Each set of twins appears side by side one another on matching monitors, hung portrait-style. Breitz spoke to each sibling separately about their lives, but using similar questions, then edited the discussions so the pair’s words and gestures play off one another, highlighting both parallels and departures. The college-age Kang sisters, for example, diverge when discussing whether one twin has had a tendency to look up to the other, while a set of seventy-something siblings tell complementary stories of getting not-quite-matching rounds of plastic surgery over the years. Each piece runs roughly an hour, feeling like deftly structured documentaries unto themselves.

Prior to the opening of Same Same—her first major solo survey in North America—Breitz gave a sneak preview of a few freshly-edited examples from Factum at the Toronto Film Festival in a talk called “The Origins of Factum,” part of the festival’s Future Projections sidebar, which focuses on the intersections of cinema and the visual arts. In addition to a discussion with TIFF co-director Noah Cowan, Breitz screened a number of clips from cinematic works that informed the creation of her latest work. The following are excerpts from a transcript of her talk, including three of the films she screened. - Ed Halter

I'm going to start by answering two ...


Eleven Evocations (For Paper Rad)

The following essay was first published in the catalog for the exhibition curated by Raphael Gygax "Deterioration, They Said" which is on view at the migros museum für gegenwartskunst in Zurich, Switzerland until November 8, 2009.

1. The popular dissemination of magical worlds has ultimately shifted from folk tales to children’s television. Paper Rad takes back this process from commercial channels, creating their own ever-shifting cosmos populated by robots, spaceships, monsters, talking animals, giants and wizards.

Like H. P. Lovecraft or J.R.R. Tolkein, Paper Rad created their own mythos, a set of characters that jointly share a fantasy world. Like Warner Brothers or Disney, Paper Rad circulate their creations across media—websites, comics, animated videos, sculptures, screen prints—thereby establishing themselves as the creators of both an imaginary alternative universe and an audio-visual brand.

After the Amateur: Notes

Film, video and photography once fell easily into two categories: professional or amateur. Professionals mastered their crafts, often through guild-like programs of training, and sought to make a living from their abilities. Amateurs learned on their own, or through informal clubs of like-minded aficionados, and pursued their arts for reasons other than money or wide-ranging prestige. Professionals pursued careers. Amateurs pursued hobbies.

White Box Testing

Addressing the American Association of Museums in 1941, Ananda K. Coomaraswamy, then curator at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, put forth a fundamental question: "What is an Art Museum for?" He proposes that the answer is contained in the term "curator," which implies that "the first and most essential function of such a Museum is to take care of ancient or unique works of art which are no longer in their original places or no longer used as originally intended, and are therefore in danger of destruction by neglect or otherwise." Significantly, Coomaraswamy's concept downplays one curatorial activity otherwise taken for granted today: "This care of works of art," he writes, "does not necessarily involve their exhibition" but if an institution does choose to exhibit works, "this is to be done with an educational purpose." Moreover, he adds, "it is unnecessary for Museums to exhibit the works of living artists, which are not in immanent danger of destruction."

Coomaraswamy's antediluvian pronouncements, predating both the development of the modern computer and the institutional embrace of contemporary art, nonetheless provide a way to think about the assumptions underlying the twelve essays in Christiane Paul's collection New Media in the White Cube and Beyond: Curatorial Models for Digital Art, recently published by UC Press. For even if Coomaraswamy's skepticism about the value of exhibiting living artists now strikes us as thoroughly outdated, his general concerns continue to inform the questions posed by Paul and her contributors. For new media, the problem of how to deal with artworks "no longer in their original places or no longer used as originally intended" remains salient -- albeit for technological rather than antiquarian reasons -- and all of Paul's essayists propose some version of what necessary "educational purpose" curators of new media must embrace.

Get it? An Interview with Cory Arcangel on Comedy

Humor has been a prominent but under-analyzed aspect of art in the past century; the comedy impulse is strongest in the history of media appropriation and conceptual art, beginning with Duchamp's poker-faced readymades and continuing through the work of Bruce Conner, Andy Warhol, Dara Birnbaum, Ant Farm, Jeff Koons and many others. Even the very way we talk about art overlaps with laff-lingo: we call certain pieces "one-liners," value work for being "wry" or "witty," and discuss whether or not a viewer "gets it." And of course, one of the first things someone will ask who doesn't "get it" is: "Is this supposed to be a joke?"

Cory Arcangel's work has almost always played on the logic of the joke in its construction: witness his most recent exhibit, "Adult Contemporary" at Team Gallery, which includes work like Self Playing Sony Playstation 1 Bowling (2008), an old bowling game hacked to only throw gutter-balls, and Permanent Vacation (2008 version), two silver iMacs set to email each other and exchange "out of office" messages until they fill up and crash. But the line between comedy and art more or less dissolved in Arcangel's related event at the New Museum's New Silent Series, Continuous Partial Awareness. In this stand-up-style routine, Arcangel performed an hour-long monologue by reading off a huge list of his unused ideas for new artworks, ranging from "give a boring artist's talk entirely through a vocoder" to "have intern watch Lawnmower Man 10,000 times and then make a website about all the plot inconsistencies."

At the very real risk of ruining humor by critiquing it, Cory and I meet recently to discuss the relationship between comedy and art in both his work and that of others. - Ed Halter

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Net Ae 2.0 postmortem

Like the invention of cinema or television, there's no reason why a new practice can't have multiple beginnings. I would see your comment more as an amending of Ramocki's argument rather than a negation.


The Tomorrow People

Yes that is exactly what I meant.

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But this works too, with additional layers of meaning in its multiple transfers:

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Tom -- I think M.River is referring to Liania's 2.0 update of that text:





The Rematerialization of Art

Paul: for sure, my statement about the gallery world was very much meant to refer to here in the US where I am, as is Tom. Sorry, should have clarified that. Yes, it is for sure a recent trend here that smaller, for-profit galleries have taken on some of the more fringey art that in other times would have been embraced by alternative spaces instead.


The Rematerialization of Art

To quote tom's blog ( http://www.tommoody.us/archives/2008/04/05/the-rematerialization-of-art/ ) , which discusses michael bell smith's recent show at foxy in new york:

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Please note that neither sales nor selling have been discussed so far. Halter's rematerialization rhetoric is old news in the art world. The '80s was all about a "return to painting" after the conceptual experiments of the '70s; like Halter, critics came up with a term to defend a retrograde practice. Back then it was commodification, supposedly a Marxist critique of what the galleries were doing--making bushels of money--that was more of an ironic celebration.
A "net artist" joining a gallery stable merely revisits, say, Jenny Holzer's transition from a "relational" artist tacking up her truisms on New York phone poles to an internationally-feted mega artist using increasingly bombastic (and highly sellable) LED displays (similar to corporate stock tickers).

The rematerialization part isn't new and the sales part isn't interesting.

After the Halter thread on Rhizome I had a phone conversation with Aron Namenwirth of artMovingProjects, where I've been showing work. He's been mixing media and non-media in his gallery, and the felt the reason for materializing art (forget the De- or Re-) was to get it into a public space where people could look at it, hear it, and talk about it. When we were doing the "Room Sized Animated GIFs" show and the BLOG project space we were talking mainly about how to translate theretofore privately-consumed Web work for a "commons" where people would be walking around and presumably would not want to be bored. Believe it or not, some people have a jones for a white box space and seeing what happens in it. Doing the shows required a hybrid thought process of thinking about what was important online and what was important in meat space/meet space. Yes, we talked about the f*cking sales process, a necessary part of keeping the gallery doors open, I think, but the excitement of the shows was, um, the shows.

* * * * *

Your point about the "return to painting" in the 80s after the conceptual upheavals of the 70s is well taken. However, I think you're trying far too hard to pose my blog post as making a much more wide-ranging claim than it really was. Clearly, I'm not talking about the rematerialization of art as such, across all disciplines. Holy Fire is a very specific show: it's only about the entry of what was called new media art into today's commercial gallery system. In this sense, rematerialization is only a term to refer to the ironic fact that an art practice predicated on immaterial stuff like data (remember "information wants to be free"?) would turn to producing objects that can be bought and sold. And no, it is absolutely not a new story--the same thing happened to video art and installation in the 1990s, so if anything it is more a sub-set of a larger trend.

A significant part of that larger trend is that the gallery world today is overwhelming for-profit rather than non. There are exceptions of course. So while I think your observations about MBS's show are correct--that it's as much about translating the experience into a physical location as it is about making an object for sale--the fact of the matter is that the vast majority of the spaces in which this process occurs are places in which anything within its walls is potentially for sale, not merely exhibited for the fact of doing it. Your disavowal of this process ("Yes, we talked about the f*cking sales process, a necessary part of keeping the gallery doors open, I think, but the excitement of the shows was, um, the shows.") expresses a desire to wish this fact were not so. But it is. You may not wish this were the case--that the gallery could exist without the necessity of selling its objects and just be about exhibiting good work--but that is not the model under which most art is showing nowadays. Holy Fire, for me, may offer an opportunity to think look at our own moment, and judging from the activity on this thread, it's already starting to do that job. (If there is a critique one could make of it, it is that in its desire to provoke a response, it does fail to account for still-happening practices that do exist outside of this system--online work, the sporadic but continued existence of non-commercial art spaces, live performance, etc.--all of which remain a major part of new media art, although one could make further arguments what role they take vis a vis the market system (oppositional, marginal, supplementary...)

And Tom, please, don't keep trolling this issue by claiming that I am automatically "defending" a practice just by giving it a name. You know better than this. May I remind you of your own words when describing the style of my book From Sun Tzu to Xbox: "He has a deceptively calm 'just the facts ma'am' style that lays out all the information and leaves it to readers' heads to explode." ( http://www.digitalmediatree.com/tommoody/comment/36892/ )