Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Art Destruction

I meant to get around to this post several months ago, but work has been fairly crazy.  Anyhow, last summer I went to the Toronto Outdoor Art Fair and got into a discussion with the artist Bonnie Miller.  She had been talking up her project, called the Impermanence Project, where she would essentially loan a piece of art to a collector for 9 months (symbolic, no?) and then take it back and transform the work into something new, presumably 3 or 4 smaller pieces built from the materials of the original work.

While quite a number of artists have recycled canvas, and some even cut paintings down into new paintings,* it is somewhat less typical to cut up the canvas and layer it on top of other canvas, but that is part of Miller's aesthetic.  It does result in uneven surface that calls attention to itself in a way that "flat" paintings do not.  It is exceedingly rare for an artist to take an artwork back to keep working on it or, indeed, to "destroy" it.  I suppose at least Miller is upfront about it, unlike the Banksy stunt from a few months back.

The bigger question that Miller is probing is how people feel about the idea that a piece of art they brought into their home is only temporary, but beyond the idea of having a piece of art on loan (itself not that radical an idea), no one else will have that art in the future, as it will be transformed into something new.  I suppose this gets at the relationship people have with their possessions, with most people preferring to hang onto them and not think of them as temporary.  But it also makes explicit this idea that an artist should have some measure of control over their work even after selling it.  (I tend to react badly to this notion, but that's part of my broader disdain for the way copyright has been evolving over the years.)

The actual terms of the agreement make it possible for the buyer to have "keeper's remorse" and hang onto the work and not surrender it at the end of 9 months, but then they will have to pay a penalty of sorts.  So it is a bit of a gamble on Miller's part to see whether people will grow so fond of the work that they can't imagine giving it up.

I was fairly sure in my case that I could honor the original terms of the deal.  In part, I have a lot of art and it is often a struggle to integrate new work into my living space (and I have no idea what I'll do in 15 years or so if we decide to downsize!).  Also, while I thought the piece in question was interesting, I wasn't so in love with it that I would be broken up if it was broken up (literally).

Anyway, here is the piece in the studio:


Here it is after delivery:

  
And here it is, hanging over the fireplace:


I'm not sure it was intentional, but in the lower left corner there is something that could be a pink conch shell.


But it also looks just a bit like a reclining monk.


In the other corner, there is a object that vaguely reminds me of Marcel DuChamp's experiments in form (and of course DuChamp was well-known for recycling work, both figuratively and literally).


Marcel DuChamp, Chocolate Grinder No. 1, 1913

It appears there are a few more months to go on the contract, but at this point, I am planning on hanging it back over.  I'm actually fairly curious to see the smaller works that are refashioned from the larger one.  Certain parts of the work appeal to me more than others, so I'm hoping that at least one of the resulting pieces uses them in an interesting way.  But I won't know for some time.


* Here is one of the more interesting examples from Picasso's work where he cut the father figure out of the main painting and then painted out the fish that the father was dangling over the child.


I've seen the final painting at the Art Institute of Chicago many, many times.  I've also seen the fragment, but it isn't displayed nearly as often naturally.

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