Thursday, March 31, 2011
Rita Ackermann at The Journal Gallery
The Journal Gallery is pleased to present an exhibition of three videos by Rita Ackermann.
Rita Ackermann
"WARFILMS"
Opening Tuesday April 5 2011 6 - 9pm
April 5 - April 10 2011
The Journal Gallery
168 North 1st Street Brooklyn NY 11211
Open 12-6pm Tuesday-Sunday
Telephone 718 218 7148 Fax 646 390 3395
Labels:
Rita Ackermann
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Rob Pruitt: The Andy Monument
Public Art Fund
presents ...
Rob Pruitt
The Andy Monument
March 30 - October 2, 2011
Union Square
(17th Street and Broadway)
Unveiling:
March 30, 2011
6:00pm
 |
' You know the song "New York, New York," and how for year after year people have come to New York to "make it." One of the most important examples of that is Andy Warhol, who spawned a generation of people who think they can make it here in this city. Andy Warhol embodies the spirit of the city that still draws people. Every day a thousand more kids come to New York propelled by his legacy. And even if the decades pass and Warhol becomes a vaguer and vaguer character, there will still be something here that's directly linked to him - this pilgrimage, or calling, coming here from the Midwest, Eastern Europe or South- East Asia, to make it big, to be an artist. I think there should be a destination in New York to mark all those journeys.
There are hundreds of monuments to politicians in the New York City, but I can’t think of any monuments to artists, and other figures who actually represent the lived experience of most of the people who live here. When I was a teenager, I visited Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris, where Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde are buried. I was struck by the throngs of people that came to visit the tombs of their idols. When Andy Warhol died, his family had his remains sent back to Pittsburgh, where he was born, and so no such marker for him exists in New York. So a public statue of Warhol has a sense of righting a wrong.
Andy, like so many other artists and performers and people who don’t fit in, moved to New York to be himself, fulfill his dreams and make it big. That’s why I moved here, and that’s what my Andy Monument is about. Of course it could be argued that someone could just go to the Modern and look at his Soup Cans, but I think there is something to being truly out in streets of New York, to have something you can visit at 4:20 in the morning with your friends.
I will be unveiling the Andy Monument at the North-West corner of Union Square on Wednesday, March 30 at 6:00PM. I hope you will be able to join me to celebrate one of our own. '
Rob Pruitt
New York
March 2011
Labels:
Andy Warhol,
Rob Pruitt
Happy Birthday ART BLOG ART BLOG!
I am happy to announce that today is ART BLOG ART BLOG's one year anniversary! In celebration, I am re-posting my very first post by Martin Creed:
Work #470, 2005, Martin Creed
If you're lonely...
Work... this is work. This is hard work. Talking about work is work.
Thinking is work. Words are work. Words are things, shapes. It's hard
to compose them, to put them in any kind of order. Words don't add up.
Numbers add up! Things are everywhere. Everything is something,
everything has something, but not everyone has someone. It's hard to
distinguish between things, to separate things. I'm in a soup of
thoughts, feelings and things, and words. Actually, it's more like a
purée... or thick and stiff, like a paté. I'm in a paté and it's hard
to move. It needs a lot of work to get out of it — or to separate it
and find something in it. Thoughts, thoughts, sometimes I want to stop
them, but it's hard to stop them. It's work. Dealing with thoughts,
that's work.
Thoughts, thoughts, don't come! Stop! Please! When you're going to
sleep and you can't stop thinking, thoughts queueing up, that's when
you need drugs — or a notebook.
I want something to ease the pain. I want to get out of my head.
Smoking used to help. For a long time smoking made my life bearable. I
gave up smoking because I couldn't do it enough. I couldn't smoke
enough. It was never enough. I wanted to smoke all the time, to breathe
in all the time, but I couldn't, not in the shower, not when I was
talking, not when I was eating. I wanted something I could do all the
time. Not smoking, that was something I could do all the time.
I am an addict in search of drugs.
Maybe working is trying, and work — the result of work — is everything
that one tries to do. Trying... looking for excitement, or trying to
handle it and use it to get out of the paté. Trying to do things;
talking. Or maybe testing is a good way of putting it: testing things
out. Testing things out by putting things about, and all the time
trying, hoping to be excited, wanting. Wanting is what makes me work:
excitement, desire for something.
Sometimes people say: 'What the fuck do you think you're doing? That's
not art.'
I say: 'Fuck off, assholes!'
Assholes... they are something to get excited about, something to work
for.
Work is a fight against loneliness, against low self esteem, against
depression, and against staying in bed. Sometimes my self esteem is so
low that I cannot reach it even when I'm feeling down.
I want to be on my own, but I don't want to be alone.
Work is everything, I think. Everything is work. Everything that
involves energy, mental or physical. So... everything, apart from being
dead. Living...
I don't know how anyone can do it.
How can anyone get through it?
I can see why people hide.
I can see why people commit suicide.
If you're lonely,
If you're sad,
If you're lovely,
If you're mad,
Then this is for you.
© Martin Creed 2005
Work #470
Work... this is work. This is hard work. Talking about work is work.
Thinking is work. Words are work. Words are things, shapes. It's hard
to compose them, to put them in any kind of order. Words don't add up.
Numbers add up! Things are everywhere. Everything is something,
everything has something, but not everyone has someone. It's hard to
distinguish between things, to separate things. I'm in a soup of
thoughts, feelings and things, and words. Actually, it's more like a
purée... or thick and stiff, like a paté. I'm in a paté and it's hard
to move. It needs a lot of work to get out of it — or to separate it
and find something in it. Thoughts, thoughts, sometimes I want to stop
them, but it's hard to stop them. It's work. Dealing with thoughts,
that's work.
Thoughts, thoughts, don't come! Stop! Please! When you're going to
sleep and you can't stop thinking, thoughts queueing up, that's when
you need drugs — or a notebook.
I want something to ease the pain. I want to get out of my head.
Smoking used to help. For a long time smoking made my life bearable. I
gave up smoking because I couldn't do it enough. I couldn't smoke
enough. It was never enough. I wanted to smoke all the time, to breathe
in all the time, but I couldn't, not in the shower, not when I was
talking, not when I was eating. I wanted something I could do all the
time. Not smoking, that was something I could do all the time.
I am an addict in search of drugs.
Maybe working is trying, and work — the result of work — is everything
that one tries to do. Trying... looking for excitement, or trying to
handle it and use it to get out of the paté. Trying to do things;
talking. Or maybe testing is a good way of putting it: testing things
out. Testing things out by putting things about, and all the time
trying, hoping to be excited, wanting. Wanting is what makes me work:
excitement, desire for something.
Sometimes people say: 'What the fuck do you think you're doing? That's
not art.'
I say: 'Fuck off, assholes!'
Assholes... they are something to get excited about, something to work
for.
Work is a fight against loneliness, against low self esteem, against
depression, and against staying in bed. Sometimes my self esteem is so
low that I cannot reach it even when I'm feeling down.
I want to be on my own, but I don't want to be alone.
Work is everything, I think. Everything is work. Everything that
involves energy, mental or physical. So... everything, apart from being
dead. Living...
I don't know how anyone can do it.
How can anyone get through it?
I can see why people hide.
I can see why people commit suicide.
If you're lonely,
If you're sad,
If you're lovely,
If you're mad,
Then this is for you.
© Martin Creed 2005
Work #470
In addition, I am happy to announce that ART BLOG ART BLOG will present a series of exhibitions at a temporary space in Chelsea. The first exhibit is curated by Jon Lutz of Daily Operation and it opens mid-May. Details to follow...
Labels:
Happy Birthday ART BLOG ART BLOG
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