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January 2004 105 posts, 1375 lines

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The Onion comes to the Tribune, Jan 8 "Nation" section.. on the same page:

'Noah's flood created Grand Canyon?'

'Dirty Bombs were feared over holidays'

I must have missed something.

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Hey Marc-

I'm glad to see some discussion of the show come up. I saw it at the Whitney last year and felt the same way, yet I also wondered if I had the grounds to feel as confident in the show as I do. I felt that for the first time this show was able to show work by "untrained artists" in a way that was respectful and contextualized instead of colonial or "othering." (See almost every curatorial effort at presenting "outsider art.")

Sounds like you felt the same way. Yet I doubt myself a bit. How do you think the curators were able to present these works in an art context without painting the women of Gee's Bend as genius-naifs or the quilts as something other than they are?

There are plenty who saw this show as ethically questionable, but I haven't heard any convincing arguments yet.

Kevin Hamilton UIUC

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Hey Kevin & OGs,

I went to see this show with zero knowledge of the quilting tradition in Gee's Bend, and almost no knowledge of what kind of critical dialogue might be happening around the show. I had only heard that the quilts were terrific and had seen a few reproductions which seemed to confirm that.

One question that ran through my head as I saw the show was: How has this exhibit changed their lives in Gee's Bend? Without having read the articles, I at least have a dull awareness that there has been so much media attention focused on this work that the exhibition must be having some kind of consequences for those people. The show is traveling to six more cities after Milwaukee.

Part of me was somewhat glad that the region they are in seems to be quite remote and hard to get to which makes me hope those artists will be spared the irritation of bus loads of Folk-art loving tourists showing up on their door-steps harassing them and hoping to get bargain prices on quilts. But maybe they want that? Maybe it would improve the quality of their lives? It's hard to know. Do they like being isolated? I have not read the catalog but I am always curious to hear how shows like this happen - how was it organized? How much sensitivity was shown to the people whose art and lives will be affected by the success of this exhibit? How much might their lives be irrevocably disrupted? What about the Quilts that were for sale in the shop? I believe the sign posted noted that the artists would get 60% of the money from those sales. Was there a middleman? Who is representing these people and coordinating these exhibitions? Is it entirely out of their hands, and is that good for them or bad? Are they savvy about dealing with these museums? Does someone help them with it?

I watched most of the video that was produced for the show and it was deeply refreshing hearing the artists talking about their work. I don't recall that they had any of the usual academic 'experts' dragged in for critical reinforcement either. I can't remember. There were scenes of daily life in Gee's Bend that were effective at providing a geographic sense of things. It was helpful to see the quilts hanging on wooden fences in the video - to be reminded that the walls in these people's homes are not 20 feet high and perfectly white.

One criticism I always have - which is not so much a criticism of the show - is, why haven't these works been incorporated more creatively into displays of museum permanent collections? Why does work like this have to get isolated in the textiles department, or ghettoized in a separate Folk Art department. There is no reason why you can't put these quilts next to paintings. Why not show a Frank Stella painting from the 1960's next to a Gee's Bend quilt from the same time period? They're both American artists right? So many museums arrange their collections chronologically - why not mix artists like these into the chronologies and create a more complex version of the history of creative endeavors than the generic one we keep getting handed over and over again? What are people afraid of? (well, Frank Stella should be afraid)

Marc

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Hi Marc and all

Thanks for your generous reply. I think this is an important discussion for more than academic reasons - there's more here than the old "What is art?" question, or even a pursuit of political correctness. I think there's good stuff here to think about in terms of how an art community might form, and how it might relate to the rest of the world. This seems to be a subject relevant to a lot of what I've seen on othergroup. I'm curious to see if anyone else is interested. Of course this discussion calls to mind Prisoner's Inventions as well, and so you've had some good experience in thinking through this stuff.

Here are a few thoughts in response-

I would add to your list of good questions - what are people sleeping under now in Gee's Bend, Alabama? How does it change these objects to render them no longer functional as blankets?

I too would like to see these hung in the museum next to other works like Stella, etc. I think the Whitney intended them to be seen this way, as evidenced by the inclusion of another similar artist in the 2002 Biennial. Perhaps the show is to a museum's yearly schedule of exhibitions as one quilt would be to a room full of other 20th-century artworks.

The dangers of this show tend toward two ends of a continuum - one the one end, the work might be too decontextualized, seen as separate from its context. On the other end, it might be TOO contextualized, kept so pure as to be seen only on its own terms. Either way would do a great injustice to the makers. For example:

THE DANGER OF DECONTEXTUALIZATION If a gee's bend quilt was hung in a room with works by ellsworth kelly, sean scully, and stella, we would be asked to see the quilt as solely a compositional innovation, equivalent in value to the other works due to solely formal properties. This would be to rob the quilt of most of its intended properties. As if John Cage recorded the sounds of carpenters framing a new hospital and played it as a masterpiece of musical composition. Sure, it might be interesting to listen to, but such interest has more to do with the listener than the maker.

THE DANGER OF TOO MUCH CONTEXTUALIZATION If at the Gee's Bend show we walked through a re-creation of a Gee's Bend home to view the quilts only on actual beds, we would be asked to see these things as beautiful and wholly other, bound to a world worth admiring but not including. Fetishization. (I think Temp Svc's recreated jail cell avoided this through not claiming to be the sole site of encountering the inventions.)

I think Rinder's show ends up evading these two perils, and I can't really think of another time this has happened! (Except maybe Prisoners Inventions?) As I think out loud here with you, here's how I think they did it:

One thing I thought about when seeing the show was that part of what made it successful was the timing, the context of what else is going on the artworld(s) right now. I'll explain:

We've been fairly well educated by art institutions by now to regard the objects on display as the foliage of a plant, a plant whose roots are materially continuous with what we see, if invisible. In the worst cases, museums try to give us a shorthand for learning about the roots through cheesy wall-text. In the best cases, we learn about the roots through other means - word of mouth, curatorial choice, our own research.

When I walked into the Gee's Bend show it was a little like walking into a room of Forcefield's costumes or maybe even Royal Art Lodge stuff - I saw something that is physically available, but which requires more information to fully know it. (The comparisons should probably end there.) In this case, the quilts themselves taught me what I needed to know. As a group they reveal a critical community, a group of artists who worked together on developing a particular material language, and I can be a witness to the evolution of this language through different economic, social, and physical conditions. The work contains context already, embedded materially, as we see the fabrics change through time (i.e. the "corduroy decade"), and reflect their use in the world (i.e. Worn spots from use, or the incorporation of old work clothes.)

Though I can only guess that there are quilts that the curator or makers looked at and rejected from the show, the show suggests a kind of isolated critical dialogue, manifest through making. Stylistic variations on each other's work and on outside traditions testify to this. They decide what is good, better, and work on it.

I've never seen this in any representation of "outsider art." Usually it's all thrown up as homogenous - we see years and years of undifferentiated work by Darger or Traylor, or we see a whole group of individual works that don't relate to each other physically (Art Brut). For that matter, I've rarely seen it in any show.

To sum up: 1 - the quilt show presents a community of artists engaged in physical exploration of their world, reflecting consideration of economic, physiological, social conditions and site. 2 - the show reveals this community as dynamic, not static 3 - the bulk of all this information is provided in the work and its assemblage into a show, not from extra texts or artifacts.

I'm filtering my thoughts here through a book that is sitting very heavy in my head, a little piece from Chicago's own newish press, the Prickly Paradigm, by Baffler contributor Chris Lehmann. In REVOLT OF THE MASSCULT, Lehmann points out how often we see unqualified celebration of all cultural artifacts and taste choices as inherently and equally worthy, in a world devoid of criticism. Since the collapse of high/low culture, only market success can make any artifact rise above the rest as representative or worth keeping around. Though I know I'm no fan of Hi/Low categories, I really learned from Lehmann some of the political implications of forgoing distinctions of value based on taste. I see Gee's Bend as a place where dialogue and distinctions about good and bad result in material complexity, beauty and richness.

Don't get me wrong, I'll never argue for absolute standards of taste, of good and bad in art, but I'm seeing more and more where we're responsible for keeping such terms around in the interest of sustaining lively communities. I'd rather contest value than dismiss it as a concept, which is also why I relish an opportunity to go on here awhile about this show. To accept it as "all good" and be done with it is death.

Where does this happen? When I go to galleries or museums only rarely does discussion or debate last longer than the bar at the end of the day, and even there only for the first drink or so. Othergroup seems to support these kinds of discussions, and I say let's keep it going!

Kevin

On 1/13/04 10:07 AM, "Marc Fischer" wrote:

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Thanks Kevin, That might be the longest and most thorough post on othergroup in years. I doubt that I'll be able to respond to all of it or even much of it.

Some more thoughts. The question you bring up about how the quilts might have been curated or what the criteria for inclusion might have been is an interesting one. This might sound cynical but one of the things those quilts do is they effortlessly excite one's modern art knowledge - that is, knowledge about classics of modern art which probably had absolutely zero influence on the making of those quilts. So I can go through the show and think "That one looks like Stuart Davis, and that that one looks like Sean Scully, and there's Jonathan Lasker but better, and there's 1970's Frank Stella but not boring or ugly, and there's an op art quilt but with irregularities that make it more interesting than Vassarelli etc. etc.." And when you think of the show being at the Whitney, you can imagine thousands of artworld hipsters thinking the same way and from there it is easy to understand the show's success. Of course that's an incredibly limited way of looking at those things and the quilts kick ass on many levels, but it is one way. I know that many people have been familiar with that work for a long time, but for newcomers like myself, it's easy to imagine why the work might have grabbed people some audiences so easily.

I think nearly all art is too decontextualized in the way it is presented. Museum exhibits - particularly contemporary ones - constantly ignore the social context that informed the making of the things. Why couldn't an Alex Katz painting show have a video of him hanging out at garden parties in the Hamptons, sipping cocktails with the friends and patrons who appear in his paintings? Why do we get that good contextual video for the Gee's Bend quilts but not for Gerhard Richter? Doesn't he have a community and a social context that informs his work too? What does he look like when he's painting? Does the public really know his world all that much better than they know the world of the people at Gee's Bend? Why don't we get to see some nice video showing what the role of the assistants is in the making of all these solo shows? Why don't we get to watch their gallerists at work - showing how they pitch the art to the people who buy it? I find it incredibly arrogant how much knowledge some artists seem to expect people to bring to some incredibly hermetic bodies of work.

There are some exceptions. There's a Leon Golub video that I've seen accompanying his exhibits a couple times that is very detailed and does a great job of demystifying things. It includes the comments of visitors at his shows, shows him interacting with his assistants and shows their role in how his paintings get made. It shows him making a painting from start to finish, shows him talking with his wife who also talks about her own work, includes documentary scenes from the political events he paints via news footage, shows where he lives, shows people challenging him on his politics and on the kind of decisions he makes in what he does with his work, etc. etc. It's one of the best documentaries on an artist I've seen and it really deepens ones understanding of the guy no matter what you might think of the work. I don't think every exhibition needs to have a video (there are certainly plenty of videos I never watch), but many exhibits barely even try, or don't even seem to take into account what different kinds of information might make the work a richer experience. The Barnett Newman retrospective in Philly a few years ago was a stunningly elegant and minimal show, but at the very end they had a wonderful film of Newman talking. Did it help anyone? I don't know, but it provided a great counterpoint to the work on view. There was a show of Roy Lichtenstein's late work at the MCA a few years back that included lots of the original clippings he took from phone books and from comics - it was extremely helpful toward understanding where his visual language came from. It made me give more thought to paintings I normally don't really care about.

Trying to figure out how much context (and what kind of context) is the right amount to provide is a difficult balance to stike. I know some people think that Temporary Services provides way too much context when we organize things. We almost always put the info in a booklet rather than on the wall and you can read it or not read it. You can take the booklet home and read it later if you want. We'd rather err on the side of providing too much information instead of waiting for people to guess and then having them be wildly wrong in their assumptions. In Prisoners' Inventions, Angelo - who authored the book and made the drawings - provided more of a social context for each invention drawing than we had ever asked for or suggested. He made the choices about what he thought people needed to know in order to understand the inventions and I think he did a terrific job - particularly for someone who doesn't normally enjoy much of an audience for his art.

That's all I can do at the moment. More later? Someone else? Marc

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someone else? how about me,

Kevin and Marc, I have really enjoyed reading your musings on the Gee's Bend show and the context of other art exhibitions and products. I especially applaud Marc's insight about the difference between the video documentation of the Gee's Bend quilters in comparison to what is provided for more conventional artists. I think you have hit a structural nail on the head, and address an issue that is always present (for me at least), that being what goes into that which our society places great monitory and cultural value upon.

The Gee's Bend quilts are extraordinary, quite beautiful, and very romantic and sentimental due in no small part to their determined practicality and their transformation of otherwise unremarkable materials. They are also not unlike other quilts and crafts that are and have been produced for generations by groups and individuals around the world. The context of their display at the Whitney and other major art museums singles them out, but we should not assume that they are unique. In fact, and this is why I am energized by your discussion, we should use them as a launch pad to identify other examples of similar passion and artistry, and hold all these examples in comparison with the works of "artists" who have opted to play the high stakes/ high culture game.

Who wins in this game? What are the stakes? Who is the audience, who is the user?

I would love to see more documentation of the artists at work. A Scully documentary, Katz, Lichtenstein, Matthew Barney, Louise Bourgeois, Tony Fitzpatrick, any contemporary artist would be well served with a documentary (not just an interview) on their process and context. So many artists work in a day-to-day context that is either ignored or fetishized into meaninglessness in most gallery/museum/publication settings. This weakens both their practice and how their work is viewed and understood.

Most artwork that I return to over time has some element of the everyday, recognizable, that hooks me in and allows me to wander. If it is not inherent in the object (often the case especially with minimal works) then it is in the context I am provided with. Instead of being cryptic and willfully obtuse, how refreshing to be expansive and open about materials, desires, process, audience and use. I found this in Gee's Bend, in Prisoner's Inventions, in Golub, in Sarah Sze, in... oh it is late.

someone else?

Barbara K.

On Wednesday, January 14, 2004, at 06:16 PM, Marc Fischer wrote:

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One other point about the Gee's Bend show was the way that individual authorship and biography was greatly downplayed in order to shine a light on a larger whole. Yes, you could find out who made what, but essentially this quilting community was the star of this show - not any one individual. That was an unusual thing to see. In the video you could see one woman working on a quilt while another helped with the lighter more structural stitching that criss-crossed over her more dominant patterns - a nice moment showing how these people seem to help each other in the making of the work. My sense of this community is that it is utterly lacking in the pointless competition that infects so much of the art world. Very refreshing.

Marc

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Hey Marc and Barbara

Thanks for your replies! This is great. There are of course a lot of good directions to go here in this discussion, but I'm gonna continue on the context thing.

From both of your words about the helpfulness of videos and other similar contextual documents, I begin to think more specifically about this question of "the right kind" of contextualization. Examples are a great way to talk about this, and I appreciate Marc's very much. It's helpful to me to think about examples in which contextualization has been unhelpful. Some examples:

CULT OF PERSONALITY (biography)

The arrival of the John Currin show in NYC after its stint at the MCA has been accompanied by a great deal of contextualization in the "personality press." For example, the New Yorker provided us the contextualization of an arty b/w photograph of Currin holding up his naked baby boy, who appears to be shockingly well-endowed. Similarly, the Matthew Barney show brought us articles in the New Yorker and elsewhere about Barney's days as a football player, his life at Yale. The Times' Michael Kimmelman visited here at UIUC last year and gave a whole lecture of anecdotes about the little quirks he noticed in artists as he accompanied them to museums. There is a lot of this sort of contextualization going on, which we might generously call biographical, and which we are as likely to find in Vogue as in Art in America.

As in Barbara's email, we should ask of this sort of contextualization "Whom does it serve?" "How does it serve our experience of the work?" I find this kind of contextualization less helpful.

DANGLING THE SECRET KEYS (hermeneutics)

Of the same shows (Barney or Currin) we might find a different kind of contextualization in the pages of Artforum, museum catalogs, or wall texts. These venues perhaps consider biography or personal anecdote too unscholarly or undignified, and so instead rely on a certain kind of decoding or access-granting. For Currin, we get lists of the painters and paintings to which his pictures refer. For Barney, we get the color and symbol codes, the masonic keys to the universe of his films. The catalog for the big Barney show even contains a lexicon of references and words, symbols, like a Masonic bible.

Like biographical information, this kind of context lends itself to word-of-mouth and a weird kind of tutelage that goes on in the social space of the museum. Those who know that the artist used to play football or wrestle, those who know that "the color red in this artist's work always stands for male insecurity about height" can then guide the unknowing through the museum, standing between the "ignorant" viewer and the work. Again, we should ask whom this serves and how.

I think these two varieties of contextualization are unhelpful because neither one helps us understand how the stuff we're looking at achieves VALUE. The museum asks us to regard its wares as valuable and worth our attention, and perhaps worth preserving. The process by which something achieves this status is difficult to grasp - revealing this process also puts the institution at some risk, making vulnerable that which grants it power.

I'd have to see the show again to be sure, but I suspect that the Gee's Bend gives us both biographical and hermeneutical information, but in service of a bigger function - that of showing us how these objects result from a critical community engaged in material, social, and economic exploration. That is, how they became valued.

I'm on a limb here a little bit, partly because I don't know everything about how these quilts were selected, but I suspect that by seeing how these objects result from everyday utility, need, and desire, from individual assertion and communal conversation, from material invention and rote everyday repetition, we see how the quilts came to be AND how they came to be valued.

I would make the same case for a lot of the contextualization around Philip Guston's work, actually, if we're looking for an example from a more artworldy mythology.

More later, hopefully in response to others?

kevin

On 1/15/04 1:32 AM, "Barbara Koenen" wrote:

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group at othergroup.net wrote:

Hi,

First of all, these are the first long-entries in Othergroups that I have read in entirety. Taps into what I've been thinking about in regards to exhibiting, viewing, etc.

I saw the Helter Skelter show in LA back in the early 90's, where the Robert Williams collection was accompanied by a video of him talking about hot rods, and how he and a friend spent weeks creating a shorter roof and more-drastically-inclined windshield to an old beater. To my experience: good contextualization.

On the Matthew Barney point, I did appreciate the glossary to his large photobook. His strength is his research/sources and how he weaves it all together, but the philosophical insights one might gain by solving his films would (I believe) have much less to offer. In his case, I think being enigmatic was a successful marketing ploy, but only marginally beneficial to the work. And less beneficial to an artist trying the same trick with less money, marketing clout, and a Soho gallery providing the magic carpet.

As an exhibitor, I'm starting to feel that only a certain strain of works deserve to sit properly in a white cube. At other times, the white cube becomes forced distillation. I feel compelled to generate a mass of material around it - either in print or as a website with links, peripheral materials, etc. I'm starting to feel that putting and image/object in a space without umbilicals is relying on a shared agreement between myself and the viewer that the undiluted viewer-object relationship is for the best -- which is a pact shared by probably too few people in Chicago for my own liking.

Erik

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Kevin, To reply a little to both chapters of your last email, it has been enjoyable to me in recent years to sporadically read critical assessments of Jasper Johns' work of the past, say... 25 years, and to see how completely fed up many writers are with all of the quasi-secret personal iconography and coding in his later work. The implicit assumption in Johns' work that we should give a shit about the deep meanings inherent in a quote of a blueprint of his grandfather's house has clearly pushed a lot of people to the breaking point. His gorgeous brushwork ain't enough anymore. I am waiting with baited breath for the kind of critical assessment that has been happening to Johns' late work to happen with the tedious overblown symbology in all of Matthew Barney's work. Man, am I sick of hearing about that motherfucker. But uh, that's just a small aside...

Many of the wall labels in the John Currin show at the MCA confirmed every clich way of proclaiming that we were in the presence of Masterful Great Art. Articles like the one you mentioned (which I did not see) or others like one in the New York Times magazine (which I did see) point to Currin being an active participant in the reiteration of these boring old narratives. I stopped reading the MCA exhibit wall labels somewhere around the point of a text about the masterful way that Currin paints rope. I hope I didn't miss a wall text describing the way he has started to masterfully produce snide caricatures of homosexuals. That guy was a lot more fun when his paintings were more openly and brazenly hateful.

So, while it would be easy to blame museums for the way they shape the context that a lot of art gets situated in, artists like Currin seem to play a great role in how this context is formed around their work. And it is not as though you have to cooperate with every goofball who wants to write about your child's penis in Vogue. You don't have to dangle that baby over the balcony when you know a camera is gonna be present. And if the work is being outrageously misrepresented or mis-used, the artist certainly doesn't have to be silent or sit back and say 'them's the breaks'. If an important part of one's project isn't getting considered, the artist can write or talk about it and try to make sure that gets corrected. Of course if you die and your work is sold to idiots who use it in foolish ways... that gets a little harder. It is also hard when articles materialize that you did not participate in at all, but where you still you find yourself being quoted. Le Monde did an article on Prisoners' Inventions where I am quoted as saying something (I'm not sure what) and I have no idea how on earth that article came to be. Neither did the exhibition curator, who is also quoted. Merde on us and c'est la vie.

The hard part about attempting to have an effect on how your art gets situated is that it requires an endless amount of effort, patience, and attention on the artist's part. It takes a LOT of time to double check things with curators, ask lots of questions, ask to read wall texts and catalog essays before they are printed, etc. etc. And still mistakes happen and things slip by that are disappointing and inaccurate and eventually you just have to let things go. I think it's worth the effort to give every detail as much time and consideration as possible, but it is very exhausting. Many writers make zero effort to check out anything or call back to confirm their assumptions before going to print. Their deadline is more important than being accurate. This can also yield infuriating results that do a disservice to everyone. Artists seem to be taught to be grateful that anyone gives a shit about their work at all, and I guess to a degree that is true, but if you are going to participate in the exhibition of your work, I'd prefer to see people being active and conscientious participants. Details matter a lot and can reveal as much about the work as anything else.

I'm probably running very low on useful observations by now and have to go out of town shortly so over to Kevin, Barbara, now Erik (welcome Erik!) and anyone else... Marc

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On of my favorite passages from one of my favorite books. Forty years old, but it seems eerily topical tonight. - bulka

On my forty-sixth birthday they put an ape into space. They shot him farther than they intended. They recovered him alive. He flew through space at a fabulous speed, pressing buttons, pulling levers, eating banana-flavored pills. He signaled with faultless regularity, just as he had been trained to do. He did not complain of space. He did not complain of time. He did not complain either of earth or heaven.

He was bothered by no metaphysical problems. He felt no guilt. At least it is not reported that he felt any guilt.

Why should an ape in space feel guilt? Space is where there is no more weight and no more guilt. And an ape does not feel guilt even on earth, for that matter.

Would that we on earth did not feel guilt! Perhaps if we can all get into space we will not feel any more guilt. We will pull levers, press buttons, and eat banana-flavored pills. No, pardon me. We are not quite apes yet.

We will not feel guilt in space. We will not feel guilt on the moon. Maybe we will feel just a *little* guilt on the moon, but when we get to Mars we will feel no guilt at all.

From Mars or the moon we will blow up the world, perhaps. If we blow up the world from the moon we may feel a little guilt. If we blow it up from Mars we feel no guilt at all. No guilt at all. We will blow up the world with no guilt at all. Tra la. Push the buttons, press the levers! As soon as they get a factory on Mars for banana-colored apes there will be no guilt at all.

I am forty-six years old. Let's be quite serious. Civilization has deigned to grace my forty-sixth birthday with this marvelous feat, and I should get ribald about it? Let me learn from this contented ape. He pressed buttons. He pulled levers. They shot him too far. Never mind. They fished him out of the Atlantic and he shook hands with the Navy.

Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, 1965

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nice one, Mike. I was expecting that was Vonnegut. Merton, eh? Wow. I didn't realize he was so trippy! B

On Tuesday, January 20, 2004, at 07:58 PM, bulka wrote:

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Fabulous quote, Michael. Claire

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Sorry for the non-art digressions, but I have to think of something, huddled here against the cold. The good books are in the apartment, while the art, besides sucking, is outside somewhere.

So, I'm reading another old book.(I went through a Merton phase 15 years ago; Conjectures is still my favorite. This famous old one, though is new to me.) Julian Jaynes, The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.

The quick and dirty version of his thesis is that Man didn't become conscious (subjective, introspective, analytical) until the invention of writing. Until that time, the left side of the brain, that does stuff, was subject to hallucinations, visions, voices from the right side, which were interpreted as revelations or instructions from God. He points out that we still do very complicated things, like driving, without being conscious of what we are doing, until something unusual happens.

Somewhere near the middle of the book, where I am now, he tries to present the inevitably violent meeting of people from different not-yet-conscious, vision-and-voices-led cultures.

Then I look up to the TV and see an anti-violence PSA (or a movie commercial, they sorta look the same) and I hear dubya's Axis of Evil God Bless America spew, and I wonder if this consciousness thing has trickled all the way down.

And I'm reminded of this other bit from Conjectures:

Is there any vestige of truth left in our declaration that we think for ourselves? Perhaps the man who says he "thinks for himself" is simply one who does not think at all. Because he has no fully articulate thoughts, he thinks he has his own incommunicable ideas. Or thinks that, if he once set his mind to it, he could have his own thoughts. But he just has not got around to doing this. I wonder if "democracies" are made up entirely of people who "think for themselves" in the sense of going around with blank minds which they imagine they could fill with their own thoughts if need be.

Well, the need has been desperately urgent, not for one year or ten, but for fifty, sixty, seventy, a hundred years. If, when thought is needed, nobody does any thinking, if everyone assumes that someone is thinking, then it is clear that no one is thinking either for himself or for anybody else. Instead of thought, there is a vast, inhuman void full of words, formulas, slogans, declarations, echoes -- ideologies! You can always reach out and help yourself to some of them. You don't even have to reach at all. Appropriate echoes already rise up in your mind -- they are "yours". You realize, of course, that they are not yet "thoughts', yet we "think" these formulas, with which the void in our hearts is provisionally entertained, can for the time being "take the place of thought" -- while the computers make the decisions for us.

Nothing can take the place of thought. If we do not think, we cannot act freely. If we do not act freely, we are at the mercy of forces which we never understand, forcers which are arbitrary, destructive, blind, fatal to us and to our world. If we do not use our minds to think with, we are heading for extinction, like the dinosaur: for the massive physical strength of the dinosaur became useless, purposeless . It led to his destruction. Our intellectual power can likewise become useless, purposeless. When it does, it will serve only to destroy us. It will devise instruments for our destruction, and will inexorably proceed to use them . . . . it has already devised them.

bulka

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Mike wrote:

It seems to me there is thinking, and then there is self-awareness. All sorts of minds think. But what was supposed to be unique about humans (I thought) was the ability to be aware that one was thinking and to then to assess, critique, enjoy, dismiss or whatever, one thought with another.

I watched a Frontline documentary last night about the hunt for the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, and at the very end of it they showed George Bush being interviewed, and being asked about the fact that none have been found after he insisted they were the reason we had to invade Iraq. Not only did George Bush avoid answering the question, and just stupidly insist in the face of reason that Saddam was a bad man and that the world is safer now that he is no longer in power, but he honestly appeared incapable of even considering any other possible conceptualization of the events. He certainly was capable of thinking, but he seemed genuinely incapable of applying one thought to another so as to reasonably assess the first one.

Dave S.

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For Mr. Bulka,

My image of the ghost, including everything conventional about its appearance as well as its blind submission to certain contingencies of time and place, is particularly significant for me as the finite representation of torment that may be eternal. Perhaps my life is nothing but an image of this kind; perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I should simply recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.

Breton, Andre. From Nadja.

Happy trails,

MT at dog

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Gee Golly, while the hefty quotes are flying, how about the old favorites:

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On Fri, 23 Jan 2004, bulka wrote:

I'll repost Bulka's two pieces, for they got mangled in the HTML to text conversion by the Lynx browser, whcih like a number of other browsers, does not recognize repeated BR tags, and thus failed to insert 'blank lines' where Michael appropriately hit 'enter' twice to create a blank line between paragraphs on _his_ email thing. I just noticed that and tracked it down in a script and fixed it.

If you have no idea what this is all about, ignore it. /jno

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On of my favorite passages from one of my favorite books. Forty years old, but it seems eerily topical tonight. - bulka

On my forty-sixth birthday they put an ape into space. They shot him farther than they intended. They recovered him alive. He flew through space at a fabulous speed, pressing buttons, pulling levers, eating banana-flavored pills. He signaled with faultless regularity, just as he had been trained to do. He did not complain of space. He did not complain of time. He did not complain either of earth or heaven.

He was bothered by no metaphysical problems. He felt no guilt. At least it is not reported that he felt any guilt.

Why should an ape in space feel guilt? Space is where there is no more weight and no more guilt. And an ape does not feel guilt even on earth, for that matter.

Would that we on earth did not feel guilt! Perhaps if we can all get into space we will not feel any more guilt. We will pull levers, press buttons, and eat banana-flavored pills. No, pardon me. We are not quite apes yet.

We will not feel guilt in space. We will not feel guilt on the moon. Maybe we will feel just a *little* guilt on the moon, but when we get to Mars we will feel no guilt at all.

From Mars or the moon we will blow up the world, perhaps. If we blow up the world from the moon we may feel a little guilt. If we blow it up from Mars we feel no guilt at all. No guilt at all. We will blow up the world with no guilt at all. Tra la. Push the buttons, press the levers! As soon as they get a factory on Mars for banana-colored apes there will be no guilt at all.

I am forty-six years old. Let's be quite serious. Civilization has deigned to grace my forty-sixth birthday with this marvelous feat, and I should get ribald about it? Let me learn from this contented ape. He pressed buttons. He pulled levers. They shot him too far. Never mind. They fished him out of the Atlantic and he shook hands with the Navy.

Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, 1965

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Sorry for the non-art digressions, but I have to think of something, huddled here against the cold. The good books are in the apartment, while the art, besides sucking, is outside somewhere.

So, I'm reading another old book.(I went through a Merton phase 15 years ago; Conjectures is still my favorite. This famous old one, though is new to me.) Julian Jaynes, The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.

The quick and dirty version of his thesis is that Man didn't become conscious (subjective, introspective, analytical) until the invention of writing. Until that time, the left side of the brain, that does stuff, was subject to hallucinations, visions, voices from the right side, which were interpreted as revelations or instructions from God. He points out that we still do very complicated things, like driving, without being conscious of what we are doing, until something unusual happens.

Somewhere near the middle of the book, where I am now, he tries to present the inevitably violent meeting of people from different not-yet-conscious, vision-and-voices-led cultures.

Then I look up to the TV and see an anti-violence PSA (or a movie commercial, they sorta look the same) and I hear dubya's Axis of Evil God Bless America spew, and I wonder if this consciousness thing has trickled all the way down.

And I'm reminded of this other bit from Conjectures:

Is there any vestige of truth left in our declaration that we think for ourselves? Perhaps the man who says he "thinks for himself" is simply one who does not think at all. Because he has no fully articulate thoughts, he thinks he has his own incommunicable ideas. Or thinks that, if he once set his mind to it, he could have his own thoughts. But he just has not got around to doing this. I wonder if "democracies" are made up entirely of people who "think for themselves" in the sense of going around with blank minds which they imagine they could fill with their own thoughts if need be.

Well, the need has been desperately urgent, not for one year or ten, but for fifty, sixty, seventy, a hundred years. If, when thought is needed, nobody does any thinking, if everyone assumes that someone is thinking, then it is clear that no one is thinking either for himself or for anybody else. Instead of thought, there is a vast, inhuman void full of words, formulas, slogans, declarations, echoes -- ideologies! You can always reach out and help yourself to some of them. You don't even have to reach at all. Appropriate echoes already rise up in your mind -- they are "yours". You realize, of course, that they are not yet "thoughts', yet we "think" these formulas, with which the void in our hearts is provisionally entertained, can for the time being "take the place of thought" -- while the computers make the decisions for us.

Nothing can take the place of thought. If we do not think, we cannot act freely. If we do not act freely, we are at the mercy of forces which we never understand, forcers which are arbitrary, destructive, blind, fatal to us and to our world. If we do not use our minds to think with, we are heading for extinction, like the dinosaur: for the massive physical strength of the dinosaur became useless, purposeless . It led to his destruction. Our intellectual power can likewise become useless, purposeless. When it does, it will serve only to destroy us. It will devise instruments for our destruction, and will inexorably proceed to use them . . . . it has already devised them.

bulka

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Here are a couple of chestnuts for you.

-Noah Webster

-HAL, 2001, A Space Odyssey

MT at Dog

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Adding to posts by bulka, stull, dogmatic, aeelms..

Even dogs are 'self aware'. Jaynes (chapter 1), has:
- consciousness not necessary for concepts
- consciousness not necessary for learning
- consciousness not necessary for thinking
- consciousness not necessary for reason

At the extreme: I ran accross the following a few days ago. Very funny (sad too). If anyone is destined to extinction, it might be our politicians.

I have read a lot of the following stuff over the years, but here for the first time a paleontologist reacts appropriately to a simple fact from his field. This is from Noel Boaz.

He is talking, below, about Homo Erectus, who ranged over East Africa and Asia (into China) 1,800,000 to maybe 200,000 years ago. Erectus weighs about 100 to 150 pounds, walks on his hind legs, has a brain case only a little smaller than us or Neanderthals, and likely was a lot smarter than dogs, apes, or chimps. But did he 'think?'

He was most likely naked, and had a very thick skull, like Neanderthals. Unlike Neanderthals, he does not bury his dead. He eats fruit, vegetables, and road kill; but also hunts down antelope, uses fire to roast meat and to burn down prairies, and makes tools... well, **one** tool.

Here is Noel Boaz (emphasis is his)..

/jno
- looks like the Paleolithic weapon of mass destruction. To put Homo Erectus in perspective: Neanderthals fashioned stone spear points, cutting blades, scrapers, and awls, besides hand axes. Homo Neanderthalus overlaps Homo Erectus by maybe a half million years. On a lesser scale, so do we. We do all that, and make art, but so did the Neanderthals.

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On a seperate note. I would like to note that the Art Institute has a new head. James Woods has stepped down. James Cuno is his replacement. Perhaps we should say hello as a community that loves our institute. Or otherwise. MT/DB

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It would be a good moment to say hello to James Cuno because I'm sure the very first thing he did when he got to Chicago was sign up to receive emails from Other Group. I mean, I know he has a museum to direct, but I'm sure a community like this one was the most appealing reason to come to Chicago. Marc

Dogmatic gallery wrote:

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Thats what I'm saying. I mean by this that I did read he came here because we all love the art institute so much. As such it could be infered that he felt the vibe from the othergroup, right? mt/db

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On Tue, 27 Jan 2004, Dogmatic gallery wrote:

Not in a million years.

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On Fri, 23 Jan 2004, bulka wrote:

objections to Jaynes:

Is it possible that hearing the Gods speak was an activity particular to Mesopotamia, Anatolia, the Levant, and Egypt - all centers of intense agricultural practice, and perhaps used as a means of controlling the working population? What about the rest of the world?

I object to Jaynes' insistence on authority. It seems to be a peculiar Western outlook that you cannot have a village of 200 people without some sort of control, much less a city of 10,000. This is not true even of the Maya.

I would place the acquisition of consciousness earlier than the first century BC, despite his best (and overwhelming) evidence.

But read Jaynes to reach an understanding of _how_ we think: through metaphors, narratisation, and spacial fantasizing. Judgements and reasoning are never consciousness activities. See how your right brain still runs you today. Good stuff on the otherwise inexplicable status of prophets, talking in tongues, hearing voices, the meter of rap, and more.

/jno

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OG

re: jaynes

I don't know anything about these particular ideas, but it is an interesting topic.

In defense of arguing that we still have yet to reach consciousness, our modern thought processes and prime motivations for life seem of vary only slightly from how we were in 1810, even before that. Is evolution within consciousness a basic fundamental of having achieved it in the first place? In that sense, we as a species really haven't come that far. The Golden Rule, the ten commandments, and other codes of ethic, are considered true and important to a "good" life, yet they are all broken, around the world, thousands of times on a daily basis. This runs against the grain of my understanding of "consciousness".

re: something else

The latest issue of Wired has an article about digital artist, Charlie White. From the "Post Photography School of Photography". Looks to fit in somewhere between Barney, Koons, McCarthy, and Sherman. Maybe some Jeff Wall too. Point being, it was thought provoking that Wired would do a six page spread about a contemporary artist, and it looks so familiar. The transformation has begun. Many would say, it actually began years ago. Either way, it is here. We will soon be replaced (or rather, you all will be) by robots. Soon, instead of people saying "my kid could do that" they will be heard to retort "any machine could do that".

re: not to ruffle any feathers Having recently leafed through a current (I think) publication by Whitewalls detailing various gadgets and inventions developed/found in American prisons, the thought of subtle exploitation came to me. Anyone else get that?

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On Thu, 29 Jan 2004, Adam Mikos wrote:

Consciousness is not ethics (or the reverse), or goodwill, despite the occasional goodwill of dogs, dolphins, and that one gorilla in a US zoo, it is not innate, and has no biological substrate to support it.

But with consciousness you can imagine yourself into an ethical space, aided by childhood and later admonitions. Freud had a word for that.

Expanding on Bulka's first part of the 'quick and dirty' description, here is Jaynes, paraphrased..

Language is an absolute prerequisite. Language is a system of naming which begets other names. It is ever expansive, and especially as the names for anything new is metaphorically related to something known. Like any ideas we have, consciousness is created metaphorically.

But language is not enough for consciousness. After all, many animals use languages but can only conceive of the present tense, "Let's play; let's eat; let's screw."

We can construct in our minds real and imaginary spaces. These can be observed and inhabited by a copy of ourselves, an analog 'I'. With language we also have the metaphorical means to displace our 'thinking' to new imagined locations and far beyond or before the present time. Dogs cant displace their imagination much beyond the next few moments.

So to complete the definition of consciousness, Jaynes adds the individual creation of an analog 'I' to the already expanded mind space. Now we have consciousness as we understand it: a focus on specifics, seemingly located in the mind, and using an 'I' which is able to move about through spaces of actualities and possibilities, shift time, and evaluate alternative courses of action based on probable outcomes. This is the level of 'judgement' the left brain is capable of.

None of this is anywhere like what a wolf does to chase down an elk, which is totally automatic, involves quick judgements, preguessing the moves of your prey, and who-knows what else. But if you or I did that we would make the same moves, and never be 'conscious' of them. Try becoming conscious of your fingers while typing or playing a piano. You will come to a halt.

Consciousness is a focus which completely knits over the chasms between spacial locations (or time) in your mind - to make it seamless to the point of not ever being able to be conscious of not being conscious. It reorganizes memories to make them seem like 'looked at' spaces, rather than actual sensory impressions. It forces you to remember anything you have done by taking an exterior spacial view of the activity. Even mathematics when reviewed is ordered into spacial relationships.

Consciousness has almost nothing to do with any ongoing sensory impressions or the movements of your body. Not that you cannot shift your consciousness to something that catches your attention - but it is another (unconscious) part of the brain whcih tips you off, and then you shift to an analog real space to inhabit, and reflect on yourself in that space as an observed 'me'.

But this focus of consciousness is only a minute portion of your sensory experiences. More important, and despite what you think you do in your head, it excludes ideas, formation of concepts, so-called reasoning, and most judgements. These are made in the background, unawares, and we only apply logic (as 'reasoning') after the fact. Ask any artists where ideas come from: most appear out of thin air. Ask Einstein where his concepts came from: they just came from no-where, usually while shaving.

What Jaynes next suggests is that consciousness is learned. He places it at about age 7 or 8. It involves recognizing yourself as seen by others - an analog 'I' which is then internalized and placed into the spaces of the imagination and vaulted through time. You can actually watch parents make these suggestions to small children.

Since it is learned, it is cultural, rather than biological. There is no 'evolution' involved in the biological sense, and since it is cultural, it could change radically - even in the span of a thousand years, as Jaynes has documented for the first millenium BC in the Levant. So consciousness could again change radically. And who is to say to what or how?

In fact it should be suggested that there are people with a consciousness to different from us that we can have absolutely no concept of their 'thinking'. Even the language that you grow up with changes how you think.

I should go on about the 'voices of the Gods' - maybe later.

/jno

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Adam Mikos wrote: "re: not to ruffle any feathers Having recently leafed through a current (I think) publication by Whitewalls detailing various gadgets and inventions developed/found in American prisons, the thought of subtle exploitation came to me. Anyone else get that?"

Adam, Before you start making assumptions, there are at least 2 people active on othergroup who can answer questions about that book. Or you can check out this long dialogue on the project which describes a lot about how it happened and how we worked with Angelo (the book's author): [http://www.static-ops.org/essay_13.htm]

Marc

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I would guess that Angelo was less exploited by this project than most artists who sell their work in galleries...
-Steve

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Hi All,=20

I had a professor who wouldn't allow anyone to start a paper with a dictionary definition. "Who is this Webster? Should we take his definition as gospel?" she would say.=20

But between the Gee show and this, I, seriously, had to crack open the book and re-look at the term:

ex*ploit*ative =20 especially : unfairly or cynically using another person or group for profit or advantage=20

So based on this, I want to ask: Who is "another" in the definition? When we talk about exploitation, who is doing the exploiting? The curator? Any entity that profits from the show? The audience?=20

In our culture, we toss around the word exploitation a ton, we say porn stars exploited (even when they live in mansions), people who are famous for 15 minutes are exploited, news stories are exploited. Is it about profit? Is it about feeling used? Is it about being ridiculed?

I would like to know who were are accusing, and of what we are accusing them.=20 K

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OG's

Possibly the sense derives from the abrupt clinical manner in which the subject, book, and resulting exhibition were handled.

Thank you Marc for sending me the link.

It could be the art making/viewing process that was exploited. I have long recognized Tmp Services removed demeanor when presenting artwork. However in this instance, that distance indicates a larger problem (for my tastes, of course). If Marc has been in communication with "Angelo" for over twelve years and collected some 10,000 drawings/letters/ephemera (using a low calculation based on figures from the earlier link), yet still doesn't know why the guy is in jail, if/when he is getting out. And has no intention of finding out. This is where the discretion of TS comes in, assumedly to preserve the artwork not he inmate.

And yet, you all go through such great lengths to promote it, attach your names to this person, SPEND PUBLIC FUNDING ON IT (Whitewalls I'm looking at you), and spend your own money (re: link) to expand it.

Is it that you lack or intend to lack compassion? Considering "Angelo" has been a constant part of your life since 1991, I find it hard to believe. Yet you go to such pains to appear the exact opposite.

Do you wish to protect him or remove him from the equation ? Reminds me of a museum joke that the best artist is a dead one. Meaning the live artist usually muddles up everything concerning their work ie schedules, placement, handling. Just going for some levity there, not really thinking that TS would go to Angelo's parole hearing and testify that he should be denied!

So then at face value the viewer isn't given any info concerning who or what created the pieces, why TS cares so much, or why a toilet paper Bar-B-Q amounts to anything more than esoteric knowledge amongst a couple Rube Goldberg enthusiasts? Intended only for the initiated (for those who like definitions).

After laboring through a set of og emails concerning art and therapy, I am surprised that this issue didn't elicit any more response. What I see here is the total removal of "art" from the human hand and carrying it to a sterile location meant for observation only.

The point is that he is in jail, a restricted area for most, and boy are those prisoners crafty.

On the surface, yes, you proved that spare time is the devils playground and that necessity is the mother of invention. But, we already knew that.

I am of the opinion that Tmp Srv has quite a bit of knowledge of who this character is. They choose to withhold that from the audience which is their prerogative. However if TS is unwilling to give me any more information, I don't think I get a clearer picture of what I am looking at, unfettered by leanings or pre-concieved notions of guilt or innocence. Just that I am not one of the initiated.

For that, Angelo has been, ah, made a bit of a puppet, however willingly. And so have you all for swallowing it without questioning.

Re: consciousness

As I reclined last night and put on record, I began thinking about self-awareness. Much like Sherlock Holmes I chose to augment my critical thinking as well. It occurred to me that consciousness and self awareness are very close to the same thing. I think, therefore I am. In fact, it seems that is the litmus teat for any sentient creation.

Continuing from there , I propose that consciousness is a latent part of virtually everything, not something to be "attained" or "achieved", but rather the application of said consciousness that demonstrates it.

Much like a speedometer in a car doesn't really tell you how fast you are going, instead it tells you how fast your wheels are turning and from there your actual speed is inferred.

Therefore, consciousness is demonstrated by behaviors, not gray matter or the lack of such.

inspad

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To clarify a couple things:

1. whitewalls receives public money, which is not the same as spending public money, and only public money, on projects. Our books do sell, and private individuals do give to WhiteWalls. We did not spend public money on PI.

2. The book is Angelo's book, not Temporary Services' book. he is the sole author. The book is also separate in effect from the exhibition form.

3. Our book gives you as much information about Angelo, as Stephen Lapthisophon's, or Helen Mirra's do about them. or that Steve Lacy's 7 inch gives about any of the musicians involved. Or that Brennan McGaffey's CB broadcast gave about him.

4. WhiteWalls picked the book because we liked the content, as much as Lapthisophon's or Mirra's or Lacy's. Mirra could be a sociopath, Lapthisophon could rob old ladies in his spare time. I wasn't good friends of either when I picked the project. I picked them because I like the work.

5. Angelo received the same treatment from WhiteWalls as any of the above artists, with the difference that when we try to send him copies of his book, the prison system sends them back.

6. WhiteWalls promotes the book as much as any WhiteWalls publication. No more, no less, and in the same manner.

7. So WhiteWalls can print items, and support projects on the edge of legality as long as the person doesn't have a prison record? The second that person lands in prison, and submits a project much more legit (in the strictly legal sense) than Lapthisophon's, or McGaffeys, or heck...Chuck Jones' postcards for that matter, we should say no?

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Adam, Anthony Elms clarified bunch of things, and I am grateful for that because he was a lot more generous than I'm going to be. As anyone who has ever visited the old Gravy Magazine archives on spaces.org should be able to see, you remain a lazy, sloppy and shallow thinker who is happy to make careless assumptions and could care less about even the slightest attention to factual details. If that distorted mess of errors, wrong assumptions, and bizarre leaps of logic in your last email was the best you could deduce about our work, I can't help you. I don't think it's worth it. I'd rather take the time to write a letter to my "puppet" friend. He's a lot more thoughtful and articulate than you are. If you need me for anything I'll probably be out 'exploiting the art making/viewing process.' Marc

Aeelms at aol.com wrote: