Statement of Intention

My hands have calluses, sturdy fingers, meaty palms, and scars to remind me everyday that they were designed for hard labor. I have been digging dirt, rock, concrete, and asphalt for most of my life. But I am also digging something else. I am unearthing my personal and cultural history in search of a critical reliquary.

I intend to curate these artifacts in a way that builds space and time between honesty/deceit, joy/sorrow, veneration/shame. My intent is human being through objects and pictures, embedding images that copulate and bear fruit.

Greatest Experience?

"What is the greatest work of art that you have experienced?"

This is the first of two questions I received from a friend in an email this morning as I was settling into the studio. The first part of the question was easy, the second... is the reason I am writing. I almost feel ashamed for my answer, actually I do. I feel like it should be something more modern, more conceptual, more accepted by present tenets in art.

I stood in front of this particular work for almost an hour, sometimes in tears. I eventually took the risk of touching the foot of a sculpture called Day knowing I might get caught and kicked out of the museum.

I was in Florence Italy in the Spring of 2006. I was feeling numb from sensory overload. I was at the San Lorenzo Basilica and ventured into the Medici chapel. It was in the tombs that I had the most powerful experience I have ever had with art. It was done by the hand of Michelangelo Buonarroti.

Night and Day

 

Dusk and Dawn

"Why has this work/action or experience stayed with you or effected you more than any other?"

It must have been the tears, it must have been the fact that I lost time. Intimacy.I felt certain that I understood, that somehow I had communed with the soul of Michelangelo through this particular work. I have seen most of his more famous works but none of them had this kind of power or conduit.

Somehow he shared his soul with this young naive artists 500 years after his death.

And I am for any artist who can do this through their work.

First Kill

I'm not exactly sure, but If I had to guess who blew this up to poster size, I would say it was my grandmother. I was thirteen and this was my first deer hunt. I had been sitting in a dozier pile of trees and dirt for only a few hours when I saw this deer come prancing down a hillside.

I shot it twice. My grandfather thought I had missed because he heard the second shot, I just wanted to make sure it was dead.The first shot was through the lungs. I was nervous and excited.

I called my dad, he dropped whatever he was doing, drove all the way from Nashville (at least 45 min.) just to see what I had shot. I think he was proud. Though it is not a traditional specimen (irregular rack) the sun bleached head of this deer still hangs from my grandfather's chimney.

I have only killed one deer since. I think it was in the same year.

I have intended to  hunt again but I have not made the time to do it. I'm not sure why.

Garden of (F)utility

 

 

Semi Club Foot

 

These are the casts that were removed from my legs when I was four. I had to use a wheel chair, be put in the bath tub and into my bed at night. He-Man came to visit me in the hospital and gave me the best apple I have ever eaten. He told me to save it until I was feeling bad and that it would make me feel better. It did.

I think my dad was in rehab, I don't remember him around. My mom had to work so my grandmother spent a lot of time with me.

There was a kid in kindergarten that made fun of me, his name was Jason Brown. He was the fastest kid. I remember telling my grandmother that I was going to "beat Jason Brown" when I got my casts taken off.

I did.

These memories, this artifact has been the source of a certain deepness in my life. It is time to give them the seat of honor as we feast together, as we commune at the table of Uruk.

Blue Boy

 

The image on the left is a detail of the original Blue Boy by Thomas Gainsborough. The image on the right is a detail of what was hanging in my grandmother's house for years and has been hanging in my studio for over a year. I thought I had been looking at a copy of the original the whole time.  Interesting.

What I find most interesting is that almost all of the Fine Art faculty (including art history) , numerous other faculty, administrators, and fellow students have seen this in my studio. Many have even commented on it. Did anyone even  notice that it was a (bad) copy of a copy of a copy. Are we so accustomed to re-presentations, even bad ones, that they have become symbols? And as a symbol, is this copy hanging in my grandmother's house any different to her than the original? Does it even matter anymore?

Yes it does. There was a time in the recent past that it did not matter, but we have passed that threshold (or we are about to). This will be played out soon enough. 

Enter The Ghost of Annlee.

 

I Call My Grandmother Mam

My grandmother was about to throw these out. She bought them twenty years ago as accessory lighting in her "Victorian Room." She gave them to me in pieces a few weeks ago, all of the rods were haphazardly laying in a tupperware box.

After I took them out of the box, skeptical about the condition of the glass rods, I hung them on the wall in my studio. None of them were broke, just as my grandmother said.

But then I discovered what was scattered underneath the lights at the bottom of the plastic box. I am sure that it all belonged to her. I guess it came with the lights.

I call my grandmother Mam, I always have.

Scrap Maple and Prayer

I made this last Spring. I made it out of scrap maple.

I was hoping that it would inspire my (prayer) life. It did... has... kind of. I imagined that by now the leather would be dark and shiny from my knees. A few months after making it I started going to an Eastern Orthodox church. They mostly stand when they pray.

I used it in a performance work called Exit (F)utility.

I am considering using it again.

2 Way Mirror

We closed down the pawn shop in Madison because someone wrapped duct tape around my grandmother's head, drug her to the back and hog-tied her while he robbed us. I can imagine the clumps of hair laying on the counter from where he grabbed her head and slammed it down while he hopped over the counter. I can hear the sound of the tape being quickly unrolled.

She was by herself, her help had gone to lunch. She laid there for half an hour before she was found.

This is the see-through mirror that was in the wall to keep watch over the shop, to deter criminal activity. It has been in the old pawn shop for ten years until I brought it to my studio yesterday.

What Do Subjects Want to Know?

 

Greater Expectations

 

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

I was sitting in the west corner of my living room one Sunday morning before church. It was about 7am, I had just made my morning coffee. This morning was not so different from most. But on this morning my mind drifted to a Polaroid that I found on the ground in my family's abandoned pawn shop in Madison.

Once every few weeks I go to the "pawn shop" to look around. It usually the same things piled around. I guess I hope that something will stand out that I failed to notice the dozens of other times I rummaged through my family's collective history. On this particular trip, I happened upon a stack of photos laying on the ground. As I was sorting through them, I realized that they had once belonged to my grandmother's best friend. His name was Red. Red was the head cashier at Home Depot. Red was a gay man, Red died of a heart attack while waiting in line at a bank. Red was my grandmother's best friend.

I remember Red pretty well. For a few years Red was a consistent part of my life. He was a nice guy, always helpful. But mainly, he was a great friend to my grandmother. He  went to yard sales every Saturday morning and would bring gifts to my grandma, often it was things to fix up the house. She always talked about him.

I remember hearing stories about Red's boyfriend, his life outside of my grandmother's house. I don't remember ever meeting his boyfriend. I don't know his name, I don't know where he lives, or if he is alive or dead. But I know that this is his picture that I found in the pawn shop:

It stopped me in my tracks, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I sifted through dozens of photos of this man. Some were with Red, some were with what looked like to be his family, some were of him posing in his trailer on his bed with his dog..

I kept this picture. It was attractive.

This is what I was thinking about that Sunday morning before church.

I was thinking about this picture and I had a moment of clarity where I realized that this picture was just like a section of Romans Ch. 6 in an old bible of mine. The bible (and its markings) came from me, from a time when I was in Lubbock, TX studying to become a Church of Christ missionary.

I put them together,  we had great expectations.

gallery view

Your Risk Of Falling

My Dad had dreams of one day decorating his dump truck and trailer with diamond plate. It never happened. I considered doing it myself when I moved back to Nashville from Bozeman, MT. It seemed like a good idea.

But like many "good" ideas, this one sat in the trailer for years. It was a sheet of 1/8" thick aluminum diamond plate that was 5'x10' long. I'm sure that it would cost several hundred dollars if I had to go buy it today. It just sat there for years like most things at "The Shop" (my family's reference to our commercial property in Madison, TN).

It stayed tucked away, along the wall of an old tractor trailer behind a tool box, some hanging extension cords, and the welder. The gridded part of the plate faced the wall so it was hard to tell what it was. One day, probably because of the way the light hit it, I saw a dim reflection of my face.

I moved the welder, used my foot to kick some clutter on the floor, rolled out the tool box, grabbed the top corner of the diamond plate and pulled. It was heavy and bound by something that was still leaning against it. I didn't care,  I kept pulling. I struggled, and lifted and pulled until it was out of the trailer and leaning against the opening of the door.

I stepped back, looked at my hands to make sure they were o.k., then examined my find. There was something about the weight and toughness, the failed dreams associated with its purpose, and the potential to be transformed into something that would reflect the world around it.

You can see how the pattern from the other side dictated the texture

According to Wikipedia, diamond plate is used in industrial settings to reduce the risk of falling (failing). But is falling so bad? Is it falling the problem or not knowing how to fall? I read an article in ESPN Magazine yesterday about how sports teach us to fall, to fail. One of the examples that they used was that of all professions, football players fall the most. On any given play there are eight or more players eating dirt. They pointed to a man who has done years of research of what happens in the brain when people fall. He noted that the fear of falling is experienced by most people during the fall, this makes it worse.

Football players on the other hand fall often. Their muscle memory has taught them how to fall gracefully, to roll with the fall so that they can get back up again. This is interesting. This is much like life. The fear of falling (failure) often makes the fall worse and keeps us from leaning how to get up again. We all fall, even Mohammad Ali as Joe Frazier knocked him to the canvas. But as the article pointed out, it was Ali's ability to get off the canvas and comeback to beat Frazier that endeared him as the greatest.

Diamond plate tells us to relax, no need to worry. This is obvious because some of its most prominent roles in our society is that a logo, a slogan of strength and safety.

It is used in the interior and on the exterior of ambulances and fire trucks.  Interesting. Other than what is stood upon, its function to keep its occupants from slipping is minimal. It is used then for its durability and decoration. What does it mean to decorate with fail resistant materials. It is a symbol of safety and stability, that help is on the way, my hero.

Detail of knife handle

 My youngest brother Eli, was in training to be a firefighter. He was a volunteer and was taking EMT training at Vol-State Community College. I think that he changed his mind.

The Japanese Facebook Vase

"Here you go son, can you use this in your art?" This was the question my dad asked me about the yellow vase. My first inclination was to say no, roll my eyes and dismiss it completely. Then I took a second look at the bird and the pale yellow and said "Yeah, let me have that."

I have been trying to research the history of this vase, its decoration and color for a few hours now with little success. What I did find out is that it probably came from Wal-Mart and that it is a second or third generation copy of Japanese vase painting. According to Terry Thacker,  the bird and tree are probably Americanized and are a great example of kitsch. Terry and I talked about the watering down and blending of copies being very American. I see this in the mixture of culture through marriage, the copies of copies, and the evolution of story and tradition over time.

You take genuine Japanese culture, introduce that to Europeans, use it during the industrial revolution to re-produce a cheap copy for the average person, and ship the item and its concept to America. Once it is here you mix up the techniques, subject matter, the color, and then perfect the simulation and you have a true American.  Does this simply cheapen the culture or transform it to something so complex, so layered,  that it becomes impossible to trace its roots much like the web, much like globalization? But as complexity becomes common place and free, it becomes a hollow shell of a hand thrown, hand painted and hand glazed vase. Our relationships, much like this vase, enter hyper-reality.

Hello to all of my Facebook friends.

 

"Oops, I guess I need my Facebook friends to help me put this back together."

 

 

 

Thank you Facebook friends!

Car Crash = Frog Tape

You can't send my dad into Lowes or Home Depot without him buying something. I am amazed at some of the answers I get when I ask why he bought what he did.On this occasion the latest and greatest thing to hit the market was Frog Tape. It is a masking tape for painters with, as the tape claims, a special chemical that keeps the paint form going underneath the tape. I was a skeptic especially when I saw the price tag.

We got a job last summer to fix a wall that a car drove through in the front of an office building. After putting in new brick, a new window etc.. it was time to paint. We needed to tape off some windows. Blue painter's tape or Frog Tape? It was a tough decision. We debated using it because it was so expensive. It was an odd conversation. Why else would you spend $10 on a roll of tape, if not to use it? After weighing the pros and cons we decided that this was an important enough job to justify using it (it was a $16,000 job).  After finishing, I went inside to get something and this is what I saw:

I have been fascinated with the way light transforms common subjects for a long time. I immediately knew that this was going to be used at some point in my work.

The attraction to this tape is connected to my father's response to how great it is, the marketing campaign that attracted him  to buy it in the first place, and its color as light passes through it.

Masking tape  was created in 1925 by a 3M employee. It was developed out of the frustration of painters using butcher paper with an adhesive that pulled fresh paint off of cars. It is rated by the number of days it can remain on a surface and still be removed without damage. Personally, I have never used it very much. I prefer just making a nice clean line with my paint brush. On the few occasions that I have used it, it either bled or took more time and effort than free handing.

My dad rarely uses tape for paining. Introducing Frog Tape. Sold!

Congratulations Carrie Underwood, Good Luck Egypt

 

On May 25, 2005, according to Wikipedia, Carrie Underwood won American Idol. On the same date Egyptians voted on a constitutional amendment  to allow more presidential candidates to run for office. This is the date on the 4"x4" steel tubing that I decided would be a better fit for the art I was considering.

This steel is attractive because of its proportions to the former World Trade Center and that it had a specific date printed on the side of it and  a note that it was MADE IN USA.

The cultural history of steel is enormous, it has literally been used for thousands of years. We would not have sky scrapers without it. This particular piece came from Watkins. Ron Lambert, sculpture professor, said that I could use it for art. He told me that it had belonged to an adjunct professor named James... scratch that.

I just went to go see Ron to find out James last name, its Darr. But this is not important anymore because Ron said that it was not his metal. Ron said it had been here forever, laying around waiting for someone to use it Even better, another subject laying around waiting to be noticed, asking someone to remember what happened on 5/23/05.

After looking at the previous piece with the over-sized knife and mummified chicken sitting on the elongated stand, I realized that these are now two separate works. The knife and the stand are in communion (though the stand still needs to be addressed). The mummified fluorescent chicken with the golden wish bone now sits perched atop the steel tube. They commune.

The title is Congratulations Carrie Underwood, Good Luck Egypt.

Mummified Chicken, Pocket Knife, 9/11

1. What Subjects were used?
One mummified chicken, one over sized pocket knife,  3/4 inch plywood (laminated), acrylic paint, earthquake/ shatter resistant plastic film, wood glue, fluorescent pink spray paint,  gold leaf Rub n Buff.

2. What was attractive about these subjects?
I am attracted to the knife because of the fascination of pocket knives that the men in my family have, Including myself. I was given an antique knife collection when I was born, I never see my dad or grandfather without one. In my family they are used to dig splinters, cut wire, clean fingernails, as screwdrivers, pry bars etc.... I remember collecting them when I was a boy. To this day I could probably round up a dozen or so knives from my truck, backpack, garage, dresser, and storage. My youngest brother seems to be obsessed with them, though his love for knives has grown, literally to include very large knives.

The knife is also attractive because of its ridiculous size (18"), the intent of it to commemorate firefighters after 9/11, also because my dad bought it from the Co-Op and gave it to my grandfather as a gift. I am most attracted to the fact that the faces of the men on the knife have been blurred to have ghost-like features. I am not sure if they are the ghosts of fallen firefighters or prophets that plead us to see the current state of affairs.

I'm not so sure about the mummified chicken. It probably has something to do with how we met and that it is now simply a shell. This is an obvious connection for me after researching  Pierre Huyghe's No Ghost Just a Shell project in 1999 where he used a common manga cartoon and took it out of the market and filled it with meaning (soul).

The plywood is attractive for its ability to be transformed into an elongated stand for this knife.

The shatter proof film is attractive because of its use in commercial building applications and its sheen that it has when applied to matte surfaces.

Hot Pink is attractive  because I am red-green color blind so it stands out much like billboards do, or car commercials. This is important. 

Gold is attractive (fake and real) for its symbolism, good and bad. Good, as according the Father Partheneos of the Orthodox Christian tradition, because it is the closest color and material to the heavenly realms. Bad, because it is often overused and counterfeit.

3. What is the cultural and individual history of these subjects?
  First off, the pocket knife was made in China. Someone, somewhere thought to themselves that it would be a great idea to make an over-sized pocketknife to sell to the people. I will note that the only places that I have seen these for sale are at gas stations, truck stops, and Kmart. What do the distributors know about their targeted demographic? Who will spend $49.99 on this type of product?

My dad bought cases of them. He claims that he had an "insider" named Bernie at the Ashland City Co-Op that would mark them down for him so that in his words, he could "just order cases of them."  I asked him why he bought so many and what he liked about them and he said he bought them to give as gifts. He said they "were different, unique, something you don't ever see, something you could decorate with, or just sit around, or use.... a weapon if you needed it."

I guess that answers the question of how it came to rest on my grandfather's bedroom entertainment center. I remember the shock and disbelief of seeing it for the first time, of wondering what in the world my dad was thinking in buying so many of them and how ridiculous it is.  But then I saw the blurred faces.

The chicken came from Father Partheneous's house. I loaded seven 5' clay drainage pipes in my truck and took them to the church to be installed. As I was unloading them from my truck, this chicken fell to the ground.  I couldn't believe it. I told Father Partheneous about it and he said that it must have crawled into the pipe running from a predator (hawk, dog) or been after something to eat. Both possibilities are filled with narrative as they relate to those in the World Trade Center on 9/11. I have often imagined this bird's struggle. I imagine the first failed attempts at freeing itself, I imagine it panting and wide eyed, gasping for breath. I imagine the moment it gave up, accepted its fate to die trapped in this column.

I found out from my dad that the clear, thick, sticky plastic is used for making large plate glass safe for earthquakes, hurricanes, and bombs. He told me that it became real popular after 9/11. I found the roll that I'm using in our family's old pawn shop. It came from what he called "a failed business venture" with a few guys in the window tinting business. They were going to open up at our place, didn't work out and they left it there.  


Fluorescent paint is mainly used in advertising and other commercial pursuits according to Wikipedia. In theory the chicken should glow under a black light. The spray paint that I used for the chicken is from the same can that I have used in at least three other projects. It is very unnatural for anyone living outside of Tron and the Super Bowl XLV halftime show. 

Gold, specifically fake gold leaf in a squeeze tube called Rub n Buff, may be a bit more than I can handle here. I will say that the manger of a local art store gave it to me for free, she uses it on frames to "give it that look."

4. How does the subject's story intersect with my own (where did we meet)?
 The main components of this piece intersected with my story through paying attention to the "oddness" of everyday life. I noticed them in a special way. The knife was pretty much a forgotten piece of clutter, most people would have just thrown the chicken away, the plastic was buried under junk. This practice of "paying attention" is, for me, the most important thing about my relationship with these subject, I noticed them, gave them a chance to be heard, introducing them to one another, allowing them to have a conversation. I am trying to listen to what they want.

This is where my doubt about the piece comes in. I am not sure about the plywood, it doesn't have the same character or story. It is an overused artistic device. It makes it look like art, this might be  a problem. The bomb/earthquake plastic on the other hand is quite perfect... hmmm.... 

I painted the wishbone of the chicken gold.

The wishbone or furcula is the bone on the bird that gives its frame stability for flight. It is also the bone, once broken by two people grants the wish of the one with the larger portion. 

5. How have I manipulated the subjects?
Not much, other than a little paint, gravity and plywood lamination. They manipulated me. Which is pretty impressive actually. Here I am giving them thought, hours of time and consideration at the expense of my reputation as an artist. How is it that they were able to convince me to think so much about them and consider them in the presentation of my senior thesis exhibition?

6. How has the subject been transformed?
The subjects have been given new life as symbols for consideration positioned in a totem-like hierarchy but as an equal between it and I. I do not see this as a transformation into idolatry or fetish. This is the story of the found object.

7. What have I been reading about?
I have been reading about picture theory by W.J. T. Mitchell in a book called What Do Pictures Want? The Lives and Loves of Images. I am also reading Lila: An Inquiry Into Morals by Robert Pirsig, the author of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintanance. I am also reading the daily prayers, epistle, and gospel texts suggested by the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America. I also read a lot of news from the Drudge Report, Huffington Post, and ESPN. I try to read Art Forum, they mostly sit on my desk.

8. What have I been looking at?
I look at the bird feeders that hang outside of my kitchen window a lot. I have been looking at a lot of the art blog web sites. I spend on average of 4-6 hours a week standing in an Eastern Orthodox church looking at icons, and the decoration of the church, mostly the hand woven rug beneath my feet. I look at the objects I have collected in my studio a lot. I look at Laura, my fiance. I spend a lot of time looking at the road, the billboards.   I look for mistletoe and red-tailed hawks. I look at traffic cones.



9. What have I been listening to?
I have been listening to a mix of byzantine liturgical chanting, machine-like electronic music, opera, and sports talk radio.

10. What have I been thinking about?
This is the hardest question because I don't know the parameters in which to answer. Do I mean in general, this past week, today, right now?

I guess I have been thinking about my upcoming wedding in June, this senior thesis show, and my faith. Those are the big three.

As for the "art" catagory (though I know they all realate), I am trying to develop a practice to sustain myself as an artist. I do not know why I do what I do, or why I am making the work I am. This is the secondary reason for this project, the first being to discover the title of a work. The third reason for doing this project, which I have failed to mention so far, is that I feel compelled to use "blogging" and "Facebook" as part of my practice, even if no one reads this or gives me a thumbs up on Facebook. This in integrally related to everything I am working on especially AnnLee.

I am thinking about the relationships we have with  the world through the hyper-reality of technology vs. my relationship with my roommate or fiance. (this is an abbreviated disclosure, more to come.)

Uruk Project:


The Uruk Project is a series of questions I am asking attractive subjects or finished works of art (third entities produced from the time spent between subjects and I) . The name comes from my interest in the present condition of the ancient city of Uruk in Mesopotamia. It reached its peak 5,000 years ago and is now a mound of dirt, a mound of history. This mound is my interest. As an archeologists digs the dirt of history, I am digging my "mounds" of finished work as if they have their own story (culture) to tell. My hope is that their opinions and desires will let me know how they want to commune. 

This is a collaborative project between the subjects and I. We will have to be honest with one another. I will be using Wikipedia, Google, and my family for research.

Preliminary questions of finished work:

1. What subjects were used?
2. What was attractive about theses subjects?
3. What is the cultural and individual history of these subjects?
4. How does the subject's story intersect with my own (Where did we meet?)
5. How have I manipulated the subject?
6. How has the subject been transformed?

7. What have I been reading about?
8. What have I been thinking about?
9. What have I been looking at?
10. What have I been listening to?