BASQUIAT FILM REFLECTION

Never sure quite what to make of the work of Basquiat, this film helped my understanding of the motives behind much of his early work, as well as much of the arts climate in Soho at the time. Having lived in Soho this summer and working in the area as well, it was really interesting to see the changes that have occurred in the neighborhood. However, more shocking was likely the similarities between the climate seen in the movie and the types of art seen in the neighborhood today.

 

Especially interesting was the way in which artists were able to interact in this area during the time. I feel as if now this ability is marginalized due to the influence of social media, a more defined art market and the greater gentrification of the area. However, there is reason to believe that some of this still exists in the form of street fairs and vendors selling works on the sidewalks. Walking the area this summer, I was surprised to see much less graffiti than I would have expected. At first I thought there was a chance that possibly the general population was less charged, both politically and socially, and therefore refraining from producing work, but after consideration and watching this movie I realize I am wrong. Possibly the graffiti of the times in Soho is more emphasized in social media spheres, however this makes the conversation between artists much less notable and therefore draws less public attention from the art market as a whole.

Nancy Spero Discussion Reflection

Speaking with the group about the work of Nancy Spero, it instilled a new interest in the way in which we look at works in relation to others on the wall within the same exhibition space. Especially noteworthy to my eye was the way in which the accurate framing of the works came into our discussion. When thinking about Spero, and her attempt to fill transitional spaces, the frame seems a dangerous way to take away the transitional nature of her works, however the correct framing that we see in the Colby Museum impressively highlights this attribute of the work.

Drawn to the work just above where we were sitting as a group, I find myself considering the preservation of transition that we see with this work via its mounting. Mounted in a floating position within the box frame, it seems to me to keep the transitional qualities wherever it may hang. This idea of the preservation of transition is very interesting, as it is something that we struggle to find both in art and the natural world. I consider my own research on the issue of graffiti in national parks and think about where those works fit in on the spectrum of the transition of these lands through their history. Removing the graffiti (which I argue against) seems to be a removal of this transitional and a push to hi light the old space, rather than the effects that the current state have on its development (or lack there of).

Although this was a bit of a longwinded connection between my research and the work of Spero that we viewed in the museum, I find it exciting to be able to draw a tie between the two. There is, of course, a parallel to be drawn as well when considering the work Spero did to create a voice as a woman artist. This too can be tied to my research of unidentified graffiti in national parks.

Contemporary Graffiti in the World

Interestingly, this week ties into the topic of my paper quite seamlessly and has provided me different ways to think about graffiti in nature.  Considering the Ralph and Smith article on Contemporary Indigenous graffiti and recent government interventions in Jawoyn Country, I found it interesting how and what the indigenous people are reacting to via graffiti. When brought into the scope of my paper, I see direct ties between some of these political responses and the marks that are left on trails and mountain tops. Both types of graffiti have a special relation to place, and this place is also what gives the academic a means to study the art.

Also interesting, I found myself comparing some of this indigenous graffiti to other forms of solicitation and publication of thought such as political road signs. In a sense, these signs can be a work of “graffiti” although mass produced. Similar to a tag, they occupy public space and also seem to pile up where others have already been put. Thinking about how these tags (or signs) have a physical meaning but also much more of a meta meaning concerning political and social action, it is interesting to compare them to the tags that are spoken about in this article.

Flemming – A Look at Early Modern Graffiti

Interestingly stated early on in this article, Flemming states that “Graffiti, almost by definition, is produced in media and on sites that make its long survival unlikely” (Flemming, 34). This caught my attention quickly and easily because of the validity that this carries with first thought, but then the questioning that results as consequence. In fact, it makes one question not only responses to the placement of graffiti, but the motives behind the art works when they are in places that will likely not survive. Continuing to look at the perplexities of this statement, it also asks us to rethink the conversation the works are having with the locations in which they are placed.

I find it astonishing that we think of graffiti in this way, and then continue to find early modern and medieval graffiti in secular places. Without a doubt one of the least likely places for these works to survive, the tend to flock to these locations, and Flemming argues that this should be no surprise. Without a doubt there are places that graffiti artists would find longer lasting recognition, however within these secular places their works gain meaning in relation to the works they cover, while also in a larger social and economic setting that is the town and the church where they can be found.

As Flemming says “In fact, I imagine the whitewashed domestic wall as being the primary scene of writing in early modern England”, and I seem to agree. However, the ideas behind the production of graffiti continue to be counter intuitive to the path many would assume.

 

October 4 – Medieval Graffiti

As we familiarize ourselves with the motives and definitions of graffiti art as we move from ancient to contemporary times, one issue still remains present in my mind: the classification of what graffiti is. As mentioned in the article for this week by Paris O’Donnell, it is unclear if at the beginning, graffiti was not classified because it was considered a normal human relationship with past art, or because this method of defacement was not common enough to have a name.

I am consistently suck on the idea that the act of graffiti was such a method of communication that it was not classified as its own form of expression. It makes me question the existence of graffiti in the contemporary realm, and how this expression is so similar (and or different) from the works of antiquity that we look at now. I am curious to explore placement, as well as think more about types of graffiti explored by O’Donnell such as “family arms” and initials. It seems to be these could be similar to the tags used by contemporary artists, yet perceived so differently by the general public

 

 

Chapters 4-6 Look! Again

Chapters 4-6 in D’Alleva’s Look! Again, provide another interesting look on some of the most important foundations of art history. Focusing on the section on structuralism and post structuralism specifically (for the purpose of my short class presentation), I want to take this opportunity to reflect on a few specific pieces of D’Alleva’s arguments concerning these movements.

Between my senior capstone art history class and this class alike, the ideas of synchronic and diachronic aspects have presented themselves week after week in my reading. In this section in particular, myths are questioned using synchronic and diachronic approaches, and this breaks the form of structuralism into a more digestible format when compared to other theories of art history. I find it fascinating how structuralists could argue the need for rigidity in structural norms within culture, while individuals such as Levi-Strauss argue that the “structure” can also be looked at in this manner of synchronic vs. diachronic.

As Strauss says “myths are important because they provide a logical model capable of overcoming contradiction”, others argue that from this results the death of the author. Interestingly, I would disagree and prefer to blend the approaches, as the “number of codes available in the artist’s or author’s culture” seem to be something, that in my mind, can be undercover by the author via myth decoding.

Although this topic becomes increasingly “meta” the more that one divulges into the details, it is interesting to ask if structuralists and post structuralists can potentially work with each other instead of against each other. Offering each other solutions (at least potential) for the shortcomings and criticisms of each theory.

Look! Again – Chapters 1-3

In my senior year, D’Alleva begins to bring concepts ever so frustrating into sensible form. A relief. 

My career in art history has had ups and downs when considering my feelings toward the field. Beginning with the excitement that comes with mastering formal analysis and then learning to intertwine this analysis with the use of deeper and more iconographical ideas felt like a radical achievement within the first courses of art history. But then, in the light of excitement around new found fluency in the discipline, it becomes easy to feel stuck. One may even feel as I did; unable to progress towards new and original thought, stuck appreciating deeper thinking but unsure how to form it. Possibly, this stems from a fear of failure (that at the time feels more like a lack of know-how), but more likely comes from a lack of process recognition. A misunderstanding that the field is in fact constantly at question, and even the greatest thinkers challenge themselves (and each other) to think in ways so abstract yet fundamentally basic.

D’Alleva surfaces questions many would scoff at “What is a theory?”, yet at the same time many (including D’Alleva), struggle to answer with confidence. I find this ever telling of the complexity within the discipline, and more-so encouraging. A justification to why I spent many semesters wondering why my understanding of art at a deeper level seemed stagnant. Now, feeling rejuvenated by just the beginning of this text, I can focus on the process of critical theory, rather than being concerned with finding a result that may not be more than an idea or slightly different way of asking a question.

Some of the earliest pages in the text had the largest impact on my understanding of theory, and how I may apply these techniques to my own thinking. Noting the difference between methodology and theory is an idea so basic yet not always intuitive in the field. D’Alleva, stressing the importance of this distinction while supporting it with real world practice, shows that progress in art historical thought is not only attainable, but to be done in many ways. Progressing through the reading illustrates just that (in many forms), and simply being taught (or reminded) of famous theoretical processes is an exciting way to begin thinking deeper about critical theory.