on Sol LeWitt’s Drawing Series 1968 (Fours) by Anne Frances Clinton

I awake to the chill that seeps through my window. It caresses my bare shoulders and arms. My fingers automatically curl into my palm, and fist the sheets that I drag over my head. I take one small peek at the clock to find that I have five more minutes to sleep. Relief washes over me. I begin psyching myself up, to get up.  My mind calculates the various task of making the bed, the coffee, getting dressed, and brushing my teeth. Debating over which order they should be performed in. Should I make the bed before the coffee? I’m up in my room now, but if I put the coffee machine on first, will it be ready to drink by the time I come back down? I’ll brush my teeth last, but will brushing my teeth after coffee affect its flavor? It better taste good, and its color right when the creamer is mixed in. Like melted caramel, or rich butterscotch. Mmmmm. I hate it when there is too much or too little poured in. Cream can turn the roast’s dark richness to a watery white, cooling it to a lukewarm. Too little cream creates a shit brown. A bitter taste followed by acid reflux. God only knows how much I need a good caffeine kick today!

Between 1968 and 1970, artist Sol LeWitt created four “Drawings Series,” which presented different combinations of the basic geometric elements that he drew directly on the gallery walls. In each series he applied a different system of change to each of twenty-four possible combinations of a square divided into four equal parts, each containing one of the four basic types of lines LeWitt used (vertical, horizontal, diagonal left, and diagonal right). The result is four possible permutations for each of the twenty-four original units. The system used in Drawings Series I is what LeWitt termed ‘Rotation,’ Drawings Series II uses a system termed ‘Mirror,’ Drawings Series III uses ‘Cross & Reverse Mirror,’ and Drawings Series IV uses ‘Cross Reverse.’

The smallest squares are exploring unique arrangements within the context of the larger ones that surround them. However they are limited. They can only move within the structure in which they are embedded. The larger squares contain them, as the largest contains the whole, while the wall contains the drawing itself. That’s where it ends. There is no growth beyond those white rigid boundaries of the square.

Man created the perfect square for everyone to squeeze into. Symmetry is beautiful. There is no denying it. We are comforted by geometry because by looking at it from one side we know exactly what to expect from the other. Vision is clear, and thinking easy. Too easy? This is because the palette is limited and there are no surprises.

Like the drawing, we are safe and comfortable in our boxes. Once where in we don’t want to come out of, and it’s not because we are happy here. We sometimes mistake being content with being happy. In the limited space we exercise our control. The more you get the more you want. It’s a safe, predictable, and a completely miserable way of living. You can’t stop. You’re afraid of living so there is a constant tension, constant question, a challenge, a debate in your head that plays again and again like a young annoying pop singer that’s on every radio station you tune into. That stresses you the FUCK OUT! You begin to distrust yourself, so it comes to a point where there is nothing you can measure yourself against. Perfection is a flimsy fabrication. An illusion of the ideal reality. But if perfection is the perfect scale to measure against and it is nonexistent, what then?

Twenty-four possible combinations of a square divided into four equal parts, each containing one of the four basic types of lines. Perhaps numbers is our answer. Their measurements are even more exact. So now you can feed your cravings for control and satisfy them to the ultimate degree.  Although, it won’t last forever. Cravings return. Like a hunger for late night chocolate, or leftover lasagna in red gravy. Reality is so shattered. COLLAPSE. DESTROY. BREAK DOWN. Start again. Move back to the organic and asymmetrical. Plan in vague thoughts and leave the rest to chance. Sometimes the subconscious can manifest what the conscious could never imagine.

We all try to organized and plan our lives to some degree. Whether its as big as as to where your life is headed, to how you are going to get there, to the good cup of coffee that gets you going. These designs, however, are artificial. Perhaps if we allow the subconscious to function more than the conscious, take a risk, loose control, or just simply allow that drop more or drop less of creamer in our coffee. Only when we find that balance will we find ourselves awed by the art of life.

I then wrap my little black hoodie over my shoulders. Its shade faded to a dark charcoal. Similar to the graphite boxes. I feel the soft velvet rub against my flesh. I stand on the edge of the subway platform as the “A” train pulls up. The door opens, and I step inside. Taking my usual seat where I am boxed between two. I sip my coffee, and am surprised by the silkiness of….not caramel, butterscotch, milk white, or shit, but…mmmmm…hazelnut! My palm cups the thermos, while the thermos cups my liquid. It empties its heat into me, and my oxygen into it. We continue the dance as we bask in our chaotic splendor of a disorganized reality.

[Anne Frances Clinton is a Fine Arts major, class of 2014.]

Repressed Beauty by Ari Eshoo

The 20th century spawned a new breed of artists and critics whose serious attitude towards their practice bestows them with the unsettling ability to be unfazed by works of art. This class of artists and critics never dares to utter the apparently disdainful word “beautiful,” out of fear that the work of art will be deemed shallow and decorative. People are under the impression that beautiful art cannot make an impact because beauty is somehow removed from modern living. For one to say that beauty does not exist, one must conclude that ugliness is also nonexistent; this would leave artists nothing to create but unexceptional, uninspired works. Many people think that the meaning of a work is more pertinent than how the piece looks; however, if the work does not beckon one to stop for a moment to appreciate it, then the concept will not reach the audience.

Before one chooses to abolish the word “beautiful” from one’s vocabulary, one must understand the distinction between accepting the standard of beauty that society attempts to enforce, versus what an individual is genuinely attracted to. Dave Hickey states, “The beautiful is a social construction. It’s a set of ambient community standards as to what constitutes an appropriate visual configuration. It’s what we’re supposed to like. Beauty is what we like, whether we should or not, what we respond to involuntarily” (Ostrow). Based on Hickey’s distinction, one can say that “beautiful” is a term used to describe vanity; the word “beauty,” in contrast, cannot be used as a blanket statement because individuals have their own definitions of the word.

Evidently, there are misinterpretations as to where and when beauty manifests. The most beautiful things that the world has to offer are never in vain. The most beautiful moments in one’s life often occur in a fleeting instant; however, the memory of beauty is perennial. A beautiful work of art is not limited to reflecting positive aspects of life. Anselm Kiefer paints desolate landscapes; although his works depict morose imagery, he maintains a gritty, painterly touch. While Kiefer’s subject matter is not beautiful, his use of industrial materials and muted color schemes are gripping.

In contrast, Tara Donovan accumulates various household material such as toothpicks, scotch tape, disposable cups, and plates to create large sculptures which resemble organic forms. Donovan’s Untitled (Paper Plates) seems to undulate because the repetition of materials creates a solid form with a fresh vitality. Donovan’s sculptures are often abstracted, monochromatic pieces; therefore, one focuses on the awe-inspiring form as a whole, and on Donovan’s strikingly meticulous approach to materials. Another piece, Untitled (Plastic Cups), is composed of hundreds of plastic cups, stacked to look like a range of snow-covered hills. Untitled (Plastic Cups) imitates the beauty in nature and the simplicity of common objects. Donovan’s piece does not reflect political misconduct or societal flaws; yet, her work is just as poignant as Kiefer’s distressed landscapes.

Kant writes, “declaring an object beautiful and demonstrating that I have taste is not my relation to the existence of the object, but what I do with this representation within myself” (Damisch 103). The subject and content do not determine the level of beauty in a given piece. Likewise, the level of beauty holds no direct correlation to depth.

The Dadaists claimed to be a group of artists against art; however, the accomplishments they made for the art world would suggest otherwise. The arts would have remained stifled and stagnant without the Dadaists’ radical thinking and intense desire to do away with regulations in art. One must consider whether the possibility of hypocrisy in a group of artists against making art and against making lasting changes: “were the Dadaists against beauty or simply against old beauty”? (Beckley xiii). The first mistake that contemporary artists make is assuming that dated ideas of beauty are irreversible. Hickey proclaims, “If I have a choice between art being education or entertainment, I go with entertainment…What is this presumption that art cannot be entertaining? Holy shit, what else could it be? It’s fun. It’s kinda’ scary. Nobody gets killed. That’s entertainment!” (Ostrow). Contemporary artists and critics are skeptical towards art that does not reflect some grand concept; their snobbery attempts to eradicate the joy and sincerity from art making.

Art is visual communication.  Therefore, the piece must articulate an idea, rather than dialogue or written artist statements. Hickey states that “If images don’t do anything in this culture…why are we sitting here in the twilight of the twentieth century talking about them? And if they only do things after we have talked about them, then they aren’t doing anything, we are” (12). It seems as though painters have been at a loss ever since the Modernists exploited the flatness of the canvas. The majority of contemporary painters either try to pose questions that have already been solved, or, the fear of copying previous artists stifles them to the point that their work is disingenuous and lacks visual interest.

The school of thought against beauty in art comes from the notion that it is not the artist’s job to please others – which is a reasonable and admirable quality. One is still being manipulated, however, when one goes out of the way to be at odds with the public. Oscar Wilde declared that “The beauty [of art] comes from the fact that the author is what he is…The moment that an artist takes notice of what other people want, and tries to supply the demand, he ceases to be an artist and becomes a dull or an amusing craftsman, an honest or dishonest tradesman. He has no further claim to be considered an artist” (Friswell). There are not many glamorous benefits to being an artist; therefore, artists must work to please themselves. In contrast, little compares to the satisfaction of another person understanding one’s work; it is naïve to think that artists are completely self-contained and do not care about their peers’ opinions.

Art Critic Arthur C. Danto is one of the leading voices in the critique against beauty. Danto witnessed how creating art transformed from harboring a skill into manipulating the craft of cleverness. Danto rightfully comments that anything can be considered a work of art in the modern era.  He contradicts himself, however, when he says, “beauty had disappeared not only from the advanced art if the 1960s, but from the advanced philosophy of art that decade as well. Nor could it really be a part of the definition of art if anything can be an artwork, when not everything is beautiful” (25). Danto does not say that everything is art, rather he states that anything can be art.  Therefore, the form is inconsequential in determining whether a work is art or not. The market should not be in control of the artwork that is produced; instead, artists must gain control over their power to influence the market.

While Robert Mapplethorpe is best known for imbuing sadomasochistic sexual partners with a sense of vulnerability and elegance, many critics do not appreciate the sophisticated light quality and thoughtful compositions in Mapplethorpe’s work. Danto explains that “Modernism tended to make the simple grainy snapshot the paradigm of photographic purity, which applies to Greenberg’s purgative view of the quest for what is inherent in the medium. The charge against Mapplethorpe was that his work was too beautiful to qualify for critical endorsement” (27). Mapplethorpe approached his art making process with the same engrossed care and attentiveness that he put forth into his physical appearance and the decor in his home. Patti Smith recounts that Mapplethorpe would spend hours in front of the mirror grooming himself and choosing the right combination of necklaces to wear.  She remarks that “he was…still the boy who made jewelry for his mother” (44). Mapplethorpe created beautiful images to fulfill an inner need that beckoned him since childhood; an artist cannot be expected to alter their core instincts to fit in with contemporary trends. Art loses its poignancy and value when the maker is ingenuous.  There is no point of using art as a means of self expression if the maker denies their personal aesthetic to be taken seriously.

One should not strive to make beautiful art if one honestly does not see beauty in the world; by the same token, artists should not discount beauty because it is unfashionable at the moment. Beauty has a sublime, lasting effect on a viewer; contrary to current beliefs, beauty is not shallow or vain. One may create work that is beautiful but superficial; however the concept is indicative of the artists’ level of thinking, not the significance of beauty. One should not be hasty to abolish beauty from the art dialogue “because if you are looking for beauty, it is with yellow relief, squatting or standing, fixed on the sky, fixed on the earth, that so often you find it” (Beckley xix). Landscapes, social norms, and technology are constantly changing.  One thus relentlessly redefines one’s perception of beauty. Beauty does not suppress expression.  Overbearing rules for aesthetics (or lack of aesthetics), however, restrains artists and generates unoriginal work.

Works Cited

Beckley, Bill, and David Shapiro. Uncontrollable Beauty: toward a New Aesthetics. New York: Allworth,
1998. Print.

Damisch, Hubert. “Freud with Kant? The Enigma of Pleasure.” Uncontrollable Beauty: toward a New
Aesthetics. By Bill Beckley and David Shapiro. New York: Allworth, 1998. Print.

Danto, Arthur Coleman. The Abuse of Beauty: Aesthetics and the Concept of Art. Chicago Ill.: Open
Court, 2006. Print.

Friswell, Richard. “Contemporary Art Strives for Something Other Than Beauty.” Artes Magazine 06
Feb. 2010. Web.

Hickey, Dave. The Invisible Dragon / Four Essays on Beauty. Los Angeles: Art Issues, 1993. Print.

Ostrow, Saul. “Dave Hickey.” BOMB Magazine Spring 1995. Web.

Smith, Patti. Just Kids. New York: Ecco, 2010. Print.

Become What You Fear by Kayode Ojo

Any successful artist who makes objects must eventually face the influences of the market. Success is often measured by market value. Curators, writers, and the general public access art mainly through galleries and auction houses. Art that does not sell is invisible. Few artists present their practice as a drive to create the most engaging cultural trophies, but the way art is handled by the mainstream press suggest little else. Due perhaps to the influence of Marxist theory in art education and the recent dramatic economic cycles, many artists have chosen to take a critical approach to the consequences of the prevalence of capitalism. As art objects become increasingly exclusive targets of speculation, anything other than affirmation of the free market seems contradictory. Still artists make the effort, rendering complex results.

Josephine Meckseper has described her installations as shop windows right before they are smashed by protesters. These works mix political ephemera and mass market products. They evoke both desire and malaise. Her video “0% Down” is a mash up of military inspired car commercials. “DDAYLNLAASSTY” mixes the majestic opening sequences of the televison shows Dallas and Dynasty with a Saudi Arabian protest scene from the latter. Meckseper succeeds in questioning the distinction between political choice and consumer choice. Her glossy structures and high octane films neither challenge or surrender to the concept of radical chic. In a gallery setting, the viewer knows someone is shopping. Consider the tradition of viewing New York department store displays during the holidays. Is this the appreciation of a creative use of commercial space or a sign of an ultimate victory of advertising?

When asked about the mix of over-sexualized of female subjects and male model soldiers in his work, the artist Richard Phillips describes an adherence as critique approach. “My work reflects the proportional over-representation of the female body in art historical and advertising patterns. Even the way in which my paintings have been absorbed into the art media, has privileged the images of women over men, which parallels mainstream media’s old bias’ of heterosexist transmissions for the safeguarding of property legacy and real- estate control.” Is it enough for art to simply reflect a problematic situation? In a literal sense, the viewer enters a luxury space and encounters large pornographic images of women and handsome, heroic soldiers, there is little surprise. He later presents his involvement in the commercial gallery system (via Gagosian) as providing a space to question non-profit institutions. Currently these spaces present a mix of neutrality and authority while catering to private interests. The cancellation of Hans Haacke’s solo show at the Guggenheim in 1971 remains the clearest example of an antagonistic relationship between artist and museum.

Phillips’ convoluted logic is a result of the incredibly specific challenges and strategies offered to the concerned contemporary artist. Both Meckseper and and Phillips are obsessed with conflation in their work and in their personal lives. As a student at CalArt she was involved in a happening that coincided with the Rodney King Riots. Her thesis show involved fake explosives and was raided by the police. He opened a show containing an irreverent portrait of George Bush on September 8, 2011. They are a famous couple, often appearing together at glamorous art world events dressed accordingly. Meckseper recently shot an accessories story for W magazine and hosted a party for Dior at Art Basel Miami Beach. Phillips has collaborated with luxury fashion brands, is regularly featured in fashion magazines and appeared on a episodes of Bravo’s Work of Art and the teen drama Gossip Girl as himself. Two high end apartments in the show are decorated with his paintings. His latest work includes paintings based on red carpet imagery of the young stars of Gossip Girl and the Twilight films in front of step-and-pose backdrops. For the Venice Biennale Phillips directed a short film starring Lindsay Lohan. As Meckseper, Phillips, and several other like-minded artists threaten to break into the mainstream, it is unclear what message they will deliver upon arrival.

How can an artist achieve visibility while maintaining agency? Must he align himself with the ultimate unregulated market in order to freely express dissent? Damien Hirst’s Beautiful Inside My Head Forever auction of his own work at Sotheby’s likely had little critical intent, but it still forced the issue of power. Although galleries provide support and exposure for an artist, it is important that the artist have more leverage in any negotiation. Emerging artists are often legitimized by the brand of an established gallery. At the higher levels the artist must concede to the demands dictated by high costs of operations, or in extreme cases, greed. An artist gains power by becoming known to the public. Public recognition could lead to public support in the form of government funding for artists and galleries. If an art exhibition could achieve the same attendance as the latest Transformers film and relied on public engagement, a critical stance would have to face its own judgement by an audience with nothing to gain but a new perspective.