Wednesday, September 15, 2021

Hans Arp | Seuil Configuration










Jean (Hans) Arp
Seuil Configuration
New York City, USA: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1977
16.8 x 17.1 x 3.8 cm.
Edition of 300 numbered copies


A brushed aluminum multiple, with stamped signature. Valued at approximately $4000 US. 

Arp was born on this day in 1886. 


Friday, September 10, 2021

Image Bank Annual Report











Image Bank
Image Bank Annual Report
Vancouver, Canada: Self-published, 1971
18 pp., 28 x 22 cm., loose leaves in folder
Edition size unknown

An annual report published two years into into the Image Bank project, which was founded by Michael Morris, Vincent Trasov and Gary Lee-Nova, in order to use the postal system to facilitate the exchange of ideas, images and information between artists. 





 

Friday, September 3, 2021

Gilbert & George | Last of the Pink Elephants















Gilbert & George
Last of the Pink Elephants
London, UK: Art For All, 1973
13.9 x 8.9 cm.
Edition size unknown

Eight letterpress and lithograph greeting cards with eight envelopes, on the theme of alcohol. Individual titles include 'London Dry', 'Bristol Cream', 'The Majors Port', and 'Dom Perignon'. Each card is signed by Gilbert & George. 

The above examples are addressed to Christo, art historian and former Kröller-Müller Museum director E.J. van Straaten, curator Jennifer Licht and the "directors" of the Amsterdam periodical Art & Project Bulletin (to which Gilbert and George contributed issue #73 to the series).

Originally distributed for free, the series has a value of approximately ten thousand dollars now. 


"We invented “Postal Sculptures” because we had no access to gallery or museum spaces. But we still wanted to speak as artists. The “Postal Sculptures” short-circuited the art world—going through letter boxes directly to the human living space. They were an enormous success, and we had an amazing response from all over the world. [...] The “Postal Sculptures” were sometime in a series of eight, as we wanted time to create an ongoing emotional relationship with our recipient."
- Gilbert & George, 2015



Tuesday, August 31, 2021

James Lee Byars | I’m collecting questions







James Lee Byars
I’m collecting questions
Croton, USA: Hudson Institute, 1969
43.2 x 28 cm.
Edition size unknown

A questionnaire from the artist's brilliant World Question Centre (see earlier post, here) that states "I’m collecting questions. Please list yours and send to Byars (Temp. Art. in Res.) Hud. Inst. Croton, N.Y. 10520".



"So running the World Question Center I tried many things. I tried as I said street-tests, I went to schools. My biggest amazement was Columbia where I managed to hand out probably 1000 of the questionnaires which said, were regular size paper simply saying at the top “I’m collecting Questions. List yours.” And the return address of the Hudson Institute and so forth and then the numbers one to one-hundred down the side. On the reverse side there was a small ‘?’ in the middle of the page. It is interesting that I got only one return from Columbia. One questionnaire. But people dislike paper, I expect a lot of prejudice for that. So I don’t know if that’s a reasonable statistic or not."

- James Lee Byars, Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, April 21, 1970

Monday, August 30, 2021

Sunday, August 29, 2021

Richard Artschwager | Untitled [Box With Drawers]















Richard Artschwager
Untitled [Box With Drawers]
New York City, USA: Multiples, Inc., 1971
34.6 x 37.5 x 29.5 cm
Edition of 50 signed, dated and numbered copies


Produced by Marian Goodman's Multiples Inc. in an edition of fifty copies, this work consists of a white oak box with a white formica top and five drawers of equal size and shape. Each drawer has a brass handle similar to the kind found on library card catalogue drawers. The drawers contain formica (mimicking the top of the cabinet), a bottomless drawer, glass, mirror, and rubberized horsehair - one of the artist's signature materials. 



"In the fall of 1970, I showed up at Richard Artschwager’s shop on Canal Street in New York City for my first day of work. I was joining a team of artists, including John Torreano, who had been hired to complete a limited-edition object. Upon my arrival Richard gave me a broom and asked me to sweep up. I was glad to do it and glad to have the job. I swept sawdust and shavings into a pile, got a dustpan, and put the bulk of the refuse into a trash barrel. I had started to gather the small amount left on the floor when Richard said, “No, leave it. That will tell us where to put the next batch.”

In the late 1960s Richard was making art alongside furniture in the shop on Canal Street. He had fully equipped his workshop with a crosscut saw, table saw, router, drill press, power sander, planer, and worktables. My job, in addition to sweeping the floor, was to use the router to cut dovetails for the assembly of dressers, end tables, and chests of drawers.

The last art project Richard completed before moving his studio upstate was “Untitled” (1971), a box with five drawers designed and manufactured by the artist and published in an edition of 50 by Castelli Graphics and MultiplesInc. By the time I joined the shop, “Untitled”had been designed, a prototype had been made, and the cutting and assembly process had begun. One of my tasks was to cut dovetail pieces for these drawers. While doing so, I considered some aesthetic questions surrounding Artschwager’s work and recorded my reflections in journal entries. This essay is based upon my notes.

Artschwager’s art is genre bending and paradoxical. Throughout his career he has created enigmatic objects, objects questioning the very genres they inhabit; he has navigated drawing, painting, and sculpture, crossing over and stretching the customary boundaries defining art. His years as a furniture designer/maker informed his sculpture. He used the materials and methods from furniture production and assembly, as well as all the iterations (perceptual, real, and faux) these materials and methods suggested to his imagination. He cut and assembled rational, angular, minimal objects; covered three-dimensional objects with Formica in elegant camouflage; manufactured non-utilitarian objects that looked utilitarian; and created illusionistic and literal mirror images, visual riddles that played with the viewer’s expectations.

[...]

Human beings are inhabiting creatures and we want to know what’s inside. But first encounters with unfamiliar chests of drawers are usually cautious. We never know what we will find. This is one of the suspense principles, the balanced relationship between expectation and the unforeseen. The first encounter with“Untitled”can be unsettling. Is it a storage unit for materials; or is it minimal sculpture, or furniture, or a model of some sort? How does one experience this work? If we open its drawers, are we moving away from or towards the center?

To answer these questions the box locates the viewer, much like the painter locates the viewer by using perspective. In order to truly “see” the piecethe viewer must be in proximity to the piece, closer than arm’s length, and able to open and examine the insides of the drawers. 
Upon doing so, viewers discover that “Untitled”encompasses a series of polarities: open and closed, inside and outside, top and bottom, full and empty, light and dark. These polarities are built into the geometry of the box, conferring coherence. Examining them, followingcontingent steps from one place to the next, the viewer proceeds logically, like Ariadne’s thread, and gains insight into the ordering system at the heart of “Untitled”and at the core of Richard Artschwager’s artistic project.

[...]

The abrupt physical sensation upon seeing the overflowing container of the bottom drawer can be traced to the physiology of visual perception. The drawers preceding the fifth have created an illusionistic experience. The eye has adjusted to distance, to illusions of space and reflection, and to focusing alternately on the field around and through the drawers. The final drawer abruptly pushes the viewer back to the physical, measurable, non-illusionistic, tactile space within arm’s reach. The narcissism of the mirrored surface’s visual expansion is thus thwarted with two strokes of a hand. Closing drawer four and opening drawer five erases distance and illusion, reclaiming the physical presence of material and surface.

“Untitled”provides an insight into Artschwager’s materials and methods, and his exploration of perception, illusion, and tactile and sculptural space—and it does so using an oak box with five drawers. The five drawers are like a five-step visual scale. Each step moves the observer from one polarity to another, from light to dark, open and closed, outside and inside. Composed of ordinary materials—oak, brass handles, Formica, glass, mirror, and rubberized horsehair—“Untitled” invites viewers to construct meaning using their own temporal experience.

Once the viewer examines “Untitled,” the content is carried around in his or her memory. Just as with all remembered experience, memory is never wholly apart from, never wholly inclusive of, always someplace in between. “Untitled”exists someplace in between the container and the contained, someplace in between furniture and sculpture, someplace in between the utilitarian and the esthetic, someplace in between the static and the interactive.

“Untitled”is a hermetic system of thought, deciphered by following a series of steps, much like Ariadne’s thread. As simple and straightforward as were Richard’s floor sweeping instructions to me on my first day at his shop, they gave me an insight into his mind and his complex art. When he asked me to leave a small pile of sawdust on the floor of his shop to indicate where the next pile of sawdust should go, he was telling me that, for him, actions always pose questions about further actions. It can be said that all of Artschwager’s work—in any of its formats—serves as a set of instructions for the viewer, a tool for seeing.

At the Whitney Museum’s recent opening of the retrospective RichardArtschwager!, I spoke with the artist about “Untitled.” I suggested that the multiple could be considered a pivotal work in Artschwager’s career because it contained the material and conceptual seeds of that which interested him. He added, “And what mystified me.”"

- Michael Torlen, Brooklyn Rail


Friday, August 27, 2021

Mike Kelley | Paddle for Artist's Space









Mike Kelley
Untitled [Paddle for Artist's Space]
New York City, USA: Artist's Space, 1992
59 x 15.2 x 1.9 cm.
Edition of 50 numbered copies


A Beech wood paddle with leather strap screen printed on the front with the opening line of the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights (the first ten amendments to the Constitution) on the verso. 
The artist's initials are incised on the handle, as is the edition number. 

Produced as a benefit for Artist's Space in New York. 

Thursday, August 26, 2021

Jenny Holzer | Fingers slide where the brain is close





Jenny Holzer
Selection from the SURVIVAL SERIES (Fingers slide where the brain is close...), 1983-1985
New York City, USA: Barbara Gladstone Gallery, 1985
15.2 x 21.8 cm.
Edition of 10 signed and numbered copies


"Fingers slide where the brain is close to the surface and pursue the intentions lying there" is a lesser-known Truism from the Survival series produced as a painted aluminium work, mounted on board. The plaque is accompanied by a certificate of authenticity signed by the artist.




Wednesday, August 25, 2021

Tracey Emin | Temporary Tattoo








Tracey Emin
Temporary Tattoo
Venice, Italy: The British Council, 2007
8 x 6 cm.
Edition of 1500


A temporary tattoo with an image of a bird riding a penis, distributed at the artist’s exhibition as the British official entrant for the 2007 Venice Biennale. 

Monday, August 23, 2021

General Idea | Bondage




General Idea
Bondage
Toronto, Canada: Self-published, 1987
1.5 cm wide; 2286 cm per roll
Prototype for an edition 


According to AA Bronson’s comprehensive list of Editions & Publications 1967 - 1995, only two prototypes of this planned edition were ever produced. The work consists of black satin ribbon with the word Bondage hot-stamped in silver. 




Friday, August 20, 2021

Christian Marclay | Tape Fall









Christian Marclay
Tape Fall
New York City, USA: The New Museum, 1990
32 × 11 cm.
Edition of 150 

The installation Tape Fall debuted as part of the 1989 New Museum exhibition “Strange Attractors: Signs of Chaos,” alongside works by Glenn Branca, John Cage, Zoe Leonard, Ann Hamilton, David Hammons, Cary Noland, and many others. The work features a reel-to-reel tape deck continuously playing a track of dripping water sounds. Suspended nine feet above the gallery floor, the deck is not fitted with a take-up reel, so the tape unspools onto the floor. The resulting pile of audio tape becomes a sculptural form that mirrors the aural experience. A total of 187 reels of tape were used.

Much the way that Footsteps began as an installation of vinyl LPs that were then torn up and sold as editions, here the magnetic tape is collected and bottled. The temptation for Marclay - a fan of puns and wordplay - to call it Bottled Water must've been strong, but was wisely avoided. 

The work is valued at approximately $1500 US. 



"Christian Marclay's installation Tape Fall (1989) is a grower. Not just in the sense that it takes a while for the work's impact to sink in - although it's certainly true that, unlike many apparent one-liners, Tape Fall keeps suggesting interpretations with repeated interaction. No, the installation quite literally grows, slowly but surely, and each visit presents a new version of the art work. Startlingly simple, the piece consists of a reel-to-reel tape player perched high atop an industrial stepladder; magnetic tape plays back a recording of dripping water and, in the absence of a take-up reel, falls the 20 or so feet to the gallery floor, where it accumulates in a messy pile. When the tape runs out a new one is loaded into the machine, and the debris beneath is left in place. Despite the tangle around the base of the ladder, a subtle order prevails: positioned to fall directly on top of a horizontal metal bar, the slowly spilling tape gradually flips and flops over the rod, creating a symmetrical mound as it amasses, ever so slowly. Returning to the gallery is a bit like making repeat visits to Pride Superette, a convenience store only a mile or so from San Francisco MOMA, where the owner, Nabil Kishek, is in the slow process of assembling a ball of rubber bands worthy of the Guinness Book of Records. Despite the gentle pace of both projects, experiencing the mutation at first hand never fails to delight, resulting in an odd collision of simple surprise and Sisyphean sublimity."
- Philip Sherburne, Frieze, 2002