It Was Raining Outside And They Were Promised Sandwiches
Sshh. Art is happening. Today it’s the art of Ms Nika López, seen below as she “establishes an intimate relationship” between herself and nature. Specifically, an indoor pile of dirt. Thereby, of course, permitting us to behold, “The connection with the earth, the immersion of bodies in matter, the transformation from inside to outside, the tracking of a body that multiplies and distributes energy to people.” You see, Ms López describes her mission as nothing less than “expanding the consciousness of human beings.” As will doubtless become clear.
Other, equally deep and riveting works by Ms López can be found here.
I couldn’t make it through all 25 minutes but I feel more cultured already.
but I feel more cultured already.
Then my work here is done.
I will have my wife stop vacuuming post haste. We track dirt and grass clippings into the house all the time. She will be relieved to quit the Sisiphyean task, and pleased that we are in fact avant garde arists as soon as we craft an incomprehensible utterance to prove our status as artists rather than just everyday slobs. I’ll start by tucking in my “I’m with stupid t-shirt.”
I love the fact that she uses slow, deliberate movement as she sticks her head in, then the repetitious flinging, the transportation etc. You can see the the desperate need to pretend to herself that something is actually going on. “Look, I choreographed it all – it must mean something. It’s not just random and arbitrary!”
Self-generated artistic pareidolia, in other words.
prm:
Yes, the performance art portentous slow walk. I remember it well as I went to art college back in the middle ages.
Without the PAPSW most of the performance pieces wouldn’t have an iota of the… erm… profound meaning and would be over in a couple of minutes, thus forcing everyone to rush to the bar a lot sooner.
Which would be tragic.
Performaance art incidentally is an ideal format for show-offs who lack the talent or application to produce an actual coherent play.
I had culture like this once. Left the milk sitting out too long one time, discovered yogurt.
A piece of “art” begging for a “Kick Me Hard” sign.
¡ Oye, Srta. Lopez !
¡ Eso es el siglo veintiuno, ir a Leroy Merlin y compra una pala y una carretilla, hechen su trabajo much mas facil ! ¡ Solamente 49,90€ para los dos !
En el otro mano, este es problamente el solamente trabo manual ella ha hecho…
A penny for the janitor’s thoughts.
Did she clean it up herself, or leave it to less talented people?
Did she clean it up herself, or leave it to less talented people?
Where is that lady that mops sidewalks when you need her.
I admit I have not made it past the preview image – I denounce myself.
But the image alone struck me as somehow a metaphor for something. Lefties? Mao-lings? Progressives? It’s early here, and I haven’t had my coffee yet, but I think her “art” does make a statement…just not perhaps the one she was intending.
Come now, there are some awesome performance artists out there. They just work outside the toxic art set, because they value entertaining their audience.
Sacha Baron Cohen is one. You may not like him, but he’s a genius. Like most artists he did his best work young though.
Trump is another, although in his case it’s only a hobby.
On the other side, Stephen Colbert (e.g. giving congressional testimony in character).
They have works that often shock and appal but raise interesting questions about the world. The likes of Ms Lopez are hopelessly outclassed.
Where is that lady that mops sidewalks when you need her.
For those who missed it.
I admit I have not made it past the preview image – I denounce myself.
Hey, I had to watch the whole bloody thing. Seems unfair, somehow.
“You will eat bread by the sweat of your forehead till you return to the ground — for you were taken out of it: you are dust, and you will return to dust.”
– God’s words to Adam Genesis 3 (CJB)
But the image alone struck me as somehow a metaphor for something
My first thought exactly. Guessing at the political persuasion of the artist (don’t ask me how I know these things) I was presuming this was meant to refer to those not sufficiently “woke”. Granted, I didn’t click play. Nor will I, thank you.
She’s not going to compost properly unless she’s all the way in and buried. Also might help to have some banana peels and whatnot.
Hey, I had to watch the whole bloody thing. Seems unfair, somehow.
Hey, I once drank a Zima. The whole thing. I like to believe my resulting reaction was at least partly responsible for its rapid decline in popularity. Now if only that would have worked with Journey.
More adroit and courageous art.
Guessing at the political persuasion of the artist
The words vegan and feminist may offer some subtle clues.
Sporkatus,
She’s not going to compost properly unless she’s all the way in and buried.
Well, with her head sticking out of the ground, ’cause we don’t want her to expire too soon. It takes all kinds of critters to make Farmer Vincent Fritters!
Well, with her head sticking out of the ground, ’cause we don’t want her to expire too soon… Farmer Vincent Fritters!
Ah, I see. You’re taking a kæstur hákarl sort of approach to the process. You’ll want some large stones to press out the noxious juices… and quiet down the whining. And in case (near certainty) she’s a witch.
Thanks for sharing
I hope the sandwiches were worth it.
In the face of this sub-mediocre post-modern nihilistic rubbish, my generation is increasingly starved for the sublime and transcendent and yearns for beauty. Fortunately, some of us are poised and ready to provide it for them. Ugliness and meaninglessness, whether of the hip-hop or postmodern performance art variety, is destined for the dustbin of history.
Please must suffocate and end this madness.
Please must suffocate and end this madness.
Wow. Tough crowd.
The words vegan and feminist may offer some subtle clues.
She’s far too thin to be taken seriously as a feminist artist. There’s also the matter of the missing angry blue or purple hair.
Stephen Colbert (e.g. giving congressional testimony in character).
Digression: The fact that a late-night TV show comedian was called to testify to Congress on anything at all, compounded by the fact that he testified in character and wasn’t censured for it, is probably going to be seen as the defining point where the American Experiment in responsible government died.
Makes you think she really, really wanted a sandpit when she was a child… but never got one.
You can see the thought balloons above the spectators, “Why are all the really good performance art ideas taken?”
Was that the testimony where Colbert broke character for a bit, claiming that he was testifying because he really cared about “people who don’t have any power”? I remember everyone gushing over that. I also remember wondering why Colbert apparently didn’t care enough not to make a formal subcommittee a stage for his comedy act.
A few observations:
1. Assuming she couldn’t breathe with her head in that dirt pile, she held her breath for 85 s. Impressive.
2. How do these people get funding for their work? Is it a government grant? Or does George Soros subsidize them in an effort to undermine western civilization?
3. Nice butt. Pity about her psychosis.
Well … at least she got her head out of that other dark place.
You can tell it’s not Real Art cuz she didn’t get nekkid.
Nothing is more subversive in today’s art world than actual talent. That’s “privilege”, you see…
No, Daniel, Colbert isn’t close to the worst of it.
In 2002 Elmo, the puppet Elmo, testified. Though he did at least wear a tie, because it is a serious place, Congress.
Nice ass.
prm: The reason she was moving slowly at the beginning was, I believe, to get her heart rate down so that she could hold her breath longer. You want to be in an almost meditative trance before you stick your head in a dirt pile, so as to enjoy the experience longer.
Nothing is more subversive in today’s art world than actual talent.
If I might offer a minor digression, I believe artistic talent lies in being able to provoke a reaction in one’s audience – interest, at a minimum. Skill, in shaping that reaction to a desired result. Take your Mona Lisas, your Sistine Chapels, your Rubens hunt scenes… or more recently, even your Chagalls and Picassos, or even Mondrian. Something is there that not only provokes, but provokes interest.
An obsession within the Art Community with being obtuse and impenetrable as a cheap substitute for having something to say (it’s hidden, you see), has led to the elevation of people who are not merely inscrutable, but disappeared so far up their own fundament they can’t be related to… and can’t relate. The sollipsism of the artist separates them from the audience, denying any real understanding of whether their work has any meaning or impression on the audience. All that meaning and audience reaction’s to be dictated beforehand a la Wolfe’s Painted Word anyway. “I’m going to do something that means something only to me” – something beyond an in-joke. Art is communication, and stunting all avenues of communication is its obverse.
All that is to say that this is no mere absence of talent. It’s akin to elevating the sweeping oratory of Stephen Hawking “reading” e. e. cummings as a “speech” to a bunch of cats. No mere person with average talents or skills could plumb the depths so low – its only merit is that it’s interesting for novelty. Once.
Why dirt? Now, if she’d stuck her head in the sand, it might have been a profound statement on the decline of the news media, or turmoil in the political establishment, or Western immigration policy, or deficit spending, or the perceived value of higher education, or nearly any damn thing the observer cared to imagine.
But then, that would be allowing the observer to take part in the work; to make their own connections and discover a message meaningful to themselves. Which is, I now realize, so proletarian as to be almost unspeakable. Far better to beat one’s audience into submission with whatever Message one’s childhood traumas demand be released from one’s psyche.
its only merit is that it’s interesting for novelty. Once.
Some of these deep thinkers seem bewildered by the notion of diminishing returns.
The four year olds do this at all the best nursery schools.
If she’s that interested in ‘immersing’ her body in matter I can recommend an undertaker.
This woman is bloody silly and will suffocate.
my generation is increasingly starved for the sublime and transcendent and yearns for beauty
Have at it: https://www.artrenewal.org/
I admit I have not made it past the preview image – I denounce myself.
Hey, I had to watch the whole bloody thing. Seems unfair, somehow.
No refunds. Credit note only.
I am disappointed to learn that isn’t an ant hill.
Is there anything he can’t do?
https://www.campusreform.org/?ID=11123
I have to admit I sped up through some parts.
Did the children witnessing this have to write a review of the art when they returned to class? Certainly the teacher would give glowing grades to the few kids that saw this as the artist did, and for the other 19 kids who saw this as borderline idiocy and without merit, would be graded harshly.
I’m certain of it. I took art class in hight school, back in the 70’s.
As bad as the “artiste” is, what about those slack-jawed dummies sitting around watching her as she creates her “art”…
If you are a nutter, especially a female nutter, and definitely a racially ethnic female nutter, you will find educated, but still brain dead, wealthy people supporting this shite. Just look at how famous, and possibly obscenely wealthy Tracy Emin is. In a real universe, anyone who exhibited an unmade bed or a collection of used tampons would find themselves making the acquaintance of men in white coats. Rather than being art, it is an example of lazy, untalented, people conning the liberal elite.
No, Daniel, Colbert isn’t close to the worst of it.
In 2002 Elmo, the puppet Elmo, testified.
Yeah, you win. I got nothing.
Wasn’t Kevin Clash accused of molesting a teenage boy or something?
I just realized my brother and I were performance artists when we were 5 and 7. Our performance ended with Mom hollering at us and my older brother spraying us with a garden hose. Luckily for us we did our art outside. Had we done it inside the house things probably would’ve turned out different.
@champ: Since the election, Walters claims that many of her white colleagues suddenly feel emboldened to inquire if she’s an affirmative action hire, suggest she’s in collusion with other black faculty members, and question her authority.
And a bang-up job she’s done dispelling all those thoughts that she might be (1) drunk on her authority, (2) colluding with other black faculty members, and (3) an affirmative action hire by;
(1)suggesting the use of her position for political activism is correct, writing in a journal with an appeal to her own authority, and encouraging an iron hand in the classroom;
(2) writing in an explicit intersectional advocacy journal with calls for minority action; and
(3) being a dean at a *relatively small* Catholic university in Texas when a black woman of activist aims and *great academic accomplishment* can nearly write her own ticket to a professorship in a more “Correct” environment.
Such a dreadful thing her colleagues are no longer completely afraid to express what they’ve had reason to suspect for some time, the bastards.
I just want to hand her a shovel.
My childhood self would never have failed to hit a target like that with a rubber band.
If I might offer a minor digression, I believe artistic talent lies in being able to provoke a reaction in one’s audience – interest, at a minimum.
If feeling nauseous and disgusted counts, then that surely makes Rocío Boliver the 21st century Michaelangelo. She gets buck nekkid too.
If feeling nauseous and disgusted counts, then that surely makes Rocío Boliver the 21st century Michaelangelo.
Ms Boliver’s menopausal offerings can be savoured here.
Instead of addressing her concerns with her colleagues personally, or reporting them to HR, Walters instead chose to chronicle her frustrations publicly, in the hopes of raising awareness and suggesting coping strategies to other faculty of color.
First off, that’s even higher levels of passive-aggression than I’m used to seeing in Minnesota, which is notorious for this sort of thing. Second, I question how highly her fellow faculty of color are going to value her suggested coping strategies, given that she’s already proven herself incapable of dealing with her colleagues like a mature professional. I mean, it’s hardly likely that every faculty member of color can vent their frustrations in this peer-reviewed journal — there’d be precious little space left over for all of the other very important research on Women, Gender, and Families of Color.
One would hate to see cutting-edge research like (rummages through last fall’s table of contents) Diasporic Filipinx Queerness, Female Affective Labor, and Queer Heterosocial Relationalities in _Letters to Montgomery Clift_ go unpublished for want of column inches, after all.
Tim Blair’s take on #NeverTrump…(good read)
https://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/blogs/tim-blair/touring-trumpland-and-finding-it-largely-trumpless/news-story/5b3c30350b0d24acf0d808c6bc56faac
I’m not going to watch that, but I am going to mention the scene in Jurassic Park where the female protagonist shoved her arm into a mountain of fresh Triceratops-shit.
Perhaps next year Ms. Lopez will up the ante.
“…expanding the consciousness of human beings…”
I don’t believe that my consciousness has expanded following exposure to Mx López, although I must confess to uncertainty as to how this might be measured. Perhaps I’m not really human.
You can’t fool me, she just stuck her head in dirt and arted
Subtitle: “Don’t look now, I’ve soiled myself.”
No, wait, that should be – “Look! Now! I’ve soiled myself.” Simple editing mistake.
This topic got cross-posted to Instapundit, which resulted in the following …
… which made me laugh.
I couldn’t help think about what a waste of money her education was. Wonder who paid for it…
And I bet Thanos lets her live.
It Was Raining Outside And They Were Promised Sandwiches
All-night open bar?
All-night open bar?
I’ve often thought that the audience for these things, such as it is, is more intriguing than the purported artists. A combination of Dunning-Kruger and chronic narcissism can explain the performers, but what about the people watching? Are they trying to impress each other by pretending to see some merit in the flummery, or do they actually imagine that they’re being treated to a deep and radically mind-expanding aesthetic experience? And which is more tragic?
I don’t think a return to realism is an answer though Jabrwok. Photography has that end of the market seen up. Not because it’s necessarily better, but I can get a really nice photo for a fraction of a painting, if what I want is realism.
When I go into shops selling art or design, they often have items I think are beautiful, sometimes thought-provoking. They also have dreck too, but that could be said of clothes shops. But then, they have to sell to survive.
Provided you avoid art museums and performance art, there’s plenty of beautiful works to be seen. They would be derided as “decor” by snobs, but I’m long past caring what snobs think.
I’ve often thought that the audience for these things, such as it is, is more intriguing than the purported artists.
The photographers are the best! The seriousness with which they approach the work, capturing the event for posterity, history even! The click-click-clicks and flashes add to it. And yet the polyanna in me can’t help hoping that at least one is there for laughs. I’m kinda hopeless that way.
The poor lady was struggling so hard to carry that dirt with her bare hands, and not one of those spoiled brats watching her offered or tried to help. What is the matter with the work ethic of young people these days?
Are they trying to impress each other by pretending to see some merit in the flummery, or do they actually imagine that they’re being treated to a deep and radically mind-expanding aesthetic experience?
In the Before Times in my peripatetic academic career I was for a while in an art school, and having dealt with this lot, the answer is both. Of the two, the latter are the more tragic both because they truly believe, and because they perpetuate the dreck. The former are generally just there to get the free booze and/or into someone’s pants.
I don’t think a return to realism is an answer though Jabrwok. Photography has that end of the market seen up. Not because it’s necessarily better, but I can get a really nice photo for a fraction of a painting, if what I want is realism.
You are missing a bit of the fundamental philosophy of the folks at Jabrwok’s link.
If you want a “realistic” picture of a flower to hang on the wall, yes, a photo can be easier and cheaper (though there are tools and programs that can make a photo look just like a painting). However, you cannot take a picture of Pygmalion and Galatea without setting it up in a studio with all the expense and expertise that entails. Photos by recognized artists are not always cheap, an original Ansel Adams, if you are into realism, will set you back anywhere from 4-70,000 frogskins.
Photography also does not always equal realism, Jerry Uelsmann used the techniques of “realistic” photography to make very surrealistic images – all in the darkroom, long before anyone dreamed of Photoshop.
Getting back to the folks at ARC and “realism”, they rail a lot against “Modernism”, but that is too catch-all a term as it drags in everything from the obviously talented and capable such as Frank Lloyd Wright or Thomas Hart Benton to garbage like the senorita sticking her head in the dirt. If you read through their whole article, they rather sum it up as:
However, I think the folks at ARC would likewise fit into “realism” anything that encompasses most of their 24 points. Several moons ago for the princely sum of 80 Francs (ten clams US at the time) I purchased three watercolors from a street artist in Paris which would meet many of their criteria, even though they are not literal “realistic” representations of that which they depicted, and, as you point out, there is a lot of that sort of stuff out there, I think the ARC guys just want to get it back into museums, rather than a “painting” done by some nitwit who shot paint balls from her nether regions.
Oh No! I skipped to the end and ruined the story.
Monica Lopez Doltz, bwahahaha!
…vegan and feminist So she’s just having dinner then?
Nika, you go get a broom and clean this mess up. Right now. If this isn’t cleaned up by dinnertime, you are grounded, young lady. And I mean it.
Does she do this in manure also? Seems like a difficult way to make friends.
Sacha Baron Cohen is one. You may not like him, but he’s a genius.
I beg to differ. His schtick is to ridicule, in particular, white Christians, which may not be unrelated to his problems with his own ethnicity. Besides, he is excruciatingly unfunny. In a civilised society he would be dismissed as a exhibitionist.
For an example of his toe-curling vulgarity in action, observe the way he is rapidly summed up by Donald Trump:
https://youtu.be/XyxuWpol8lc?t=118
Between “The Emperor’s New Clothes” and “The Princess and the Pea,” Hans Christian Andersen is proving more prescient by the day.
It is extremely problematic that in this day and age, artistx feel free to go out in blackface.