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THIS HEADLINE IS A PICTURE BY STEFFEN MICHELS parents’ wallets. Their purpose is not to remind us of something or someone the way a souvenir does; it is to entertain us and involve us in happenings otherwise non-accessible due to chronological or geographical conditions. They are temporary and largely disposable, something beautifully mirrored in their immaterial existence. Grains are forever, pixels are for now. And now quickly becomes later in an effort for social media not to become a one way street: Posting content is genuinely enjoyed by most but going through one’s newsfeed often seems tedious, even laborious. Forcing ourselves to ‘like’ our Instagram connections’ pictures before going to bed just to return the favour is a realistic scenario. Though our minds crave for stimulation, our brains are not capable of processing exuberant amounts of information. Image overflow in the digital sphere and stress in the physical world go hand in hand. Despite this, it is difficult not to participate and interact with the stream of imagery which so conveniently opens the doors to a mundane yet substantial human longing for attention. An extensive social media following is flattering, not to say admirable. ‘Likes’ are gestures of approval from someone we might not know and who might be at the other end of the world, yet they are saying ‘well done, you’. It is strange how this creates the illusion of being understood. We might even feel like there is some sort of mutual mindset or companionship between ourselves and the other user for having shared the experience of a ‘like’ or a ‘regram’. What should really strike us as fatal though is the possibility of receiving approval from strangers to a degree where a discourse with our direct, social environment is starting to feel secondary. It requires up to no skill taking a photo with our camera phones and embellishing it using filters. The very software itself imposes restrictions onto the outcome that render it increasingly simple getting easy-on-the-eyes results but very difficult for a unique style to develop and persevere. In terms of the techniques employed to create ephemeral shots destined to be scrolled past and forgotten about, it seems people lacking an informed approach to visual cul-
ture experience a new-found sense of accessibility and freedom. This subsequently helps setting up their ‘online selves’. The average person’s Facebook profile says a whole lot about them – and sometimes none of it is true. Users make an effort in constructing an online presence which is just a bit more successful, intelligent or better-looking than they are in person. We know so many tricks to manipulate our corporeal appearance and hide what troubles us inside; we now apply them to our digital selves. One could speculate that this is the first step of becoming super human and turning ourselves into data. A modern day Descartes would perhaps be well-advised to adjust his famous, philosophical proposition to the current state of the human experience in this world: ‘I upload, therefore I am’. Still physical or already digital, we are certainly not afraid to label ourselves. What is a hash tag other than a label? And what hash tag is more important than ‘#selfie’? The selfie has a special place in the young history of virtual image overflow. Every picture upload is an attempt at further establishing our position within this sphere where everyone is linked through shared content and the interchange of information. By making ourselves the subject matter, we signalize our willingness to temporarily be content that is up for discussion. We ask to be reassured of being a valuable member of this image-based social structure. Typically, we take time to figure out our best angles and pose to make ourselves look smaller, bigger, thinner, prettier, etc. The fact we are the photographers ourselves might imply simplicity and candour but it in fact attests to an extraordinarily great deal of subjectivity and artificiality. However, selfies should not be decried as such. Some stand out for reasons ranging from technical brilliance in regards to composition and colour to a charmingly comedic element. Analyzing selfies can reveal aspects of human nature. For instance, the desire to have your picture taken in famous locations and with celebrated artworks has never been more apparent than now that the picture-taking device is in our own hands. Posing with pieces of art already
has a tradition that sees visitors from all different backgrounds – including US rap artists Eminem and Diddy – flash a smile in front of da Vinci’s Mona Lisa at Paris’ Louvre while the Musée d’Orsay and London’s National Gallery have banned the selfie stick in an effort not to expose artworks and other visitors to unnecessary risks. On the other end of the spectrum of tolerance towards this new form of self-portraiture, money is to be made. The poster child of an ‘image celebrity’, Kim Kardashian West’s fame is essentially based on her appearance in pictures. Correspondingly, the starlet turned author is launching her first book Selfish, a collection of her best selfies to date, in corporation with famed publisher Rizzoli this May. The volume’s cover shows the reality TV star seductively pouting and peering at a point slightly above the lens, her wet hair sticking to her almost entirely exposed cleavage, covering it in water drops. The appeal of the book seems obvious. What is new, however, is the posture of Kardashian’s arms, reaching out to hold her phone. A person taking their own picture, no matter their appearance in it, can hardly be said to be denied agency over their own body, it appears. The actual act of taking selfies and other photos using iPhones has decidedly changed our relationship with the camera. It is simple, takes no time and the results are immediate. One could think using a camera phone does not entail using a device at all. It feels like it is a natural extension of the arm that enables us to capture our surroundings and ourselves and add the resulting documentation to the evergrowing image stream that is our online life. Effortlessly controllable technology incorporated into the body – another cornerstone on the way to superhuman existence. In an age of TV personalities selling books with renowned entities in the world of creative publishing, visual artists face a decisive challenge: Everyone can get involved in the constant exchange of pictures and the rules on what is deemed significant work have yet to be determined. Who is any one person to say the next user’s photos are less relevant than their own – especially if nothing seems too banal to share
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with your following? Photography, already highly democratized as a medium, needs to find new standards of sophistication. In 1960s America, it questioned existing forms of visual art and assisted with the birth of photorealistic painting which became the main oeuvre of Robert Bechtle, John Baeder, Richard Estes and others. Now, it finds itself in peril. Significantly, the potentially most dangerous menace to the medium is the 2015 version of itself. The world wide web, camera phones and apps have all contributed in liberalizing photography at the danger of dulling down our ability to distinguish the authentic and poignant from the superficial and trivial. Acting on the assumption of these thoughts being grossly applicable to how artists are influenced by this new era of visual culture, the very process of creation and the resulting aesthetics should be subject to radical transformation. The debate sparked by this revolves around questions of originality, collaboration, audience-finding as well as distribution of works of art. So where does the artist of the Google age stand? One way to create new stimuli is by means of re-contextualization. With her ongoing project Seat Assignment, American artist Nina Katchadourian is creating what can be described as artistic appropriations of a remarkably spontaneous character. Her selfies, taken on plane toilets during long distance flights, resemble 15th century Flemish portraiture and went viral on the internet in 2012. Always adorning herself with tissue paper and occasionally decking out the background with a scarf, Katchadourian took selfies that refer to more than just themselves: They are a comment on the very nature of portraiture without ever seeming to take themselves all too seriously. What makes her photographs striking is their utter dismissal of formality not preventing them from a very real resemblance to masterpieces of painting. Re-introducing us to the shapes, tones and facial expressions of a now distant era of artistic endeavors, they successfully modernize its semiotics. If a young generation is to grasp the uniqueness behind the removed glance of Flemish sitters who lived
centuries ago through Katchadourian’s semiserious toilet selfies for the first time, then so be it. Importantly, the snapshots provide original work with a new facet and place in history. Recontextualization, in this case, also means ‘rehistorization’. Maybe this is what makes us look at them in wonder and caused them to enjoy the kind of whirlwind popularity unknown before social media. By now, Seat Assignment comprises more than 2500 photos and video taken on approximately 150 flights. According to the artist’s website, ‘the photos were framed in faux-historical frames and hung on a deep red wall reminiscent of the painting galleries in museums like the Metropolitan Museum of Art’ at the Dunedin Public Art Gallery, New Zealand. The selfie, having started as a symbol of our profound desire to be looked at, debated, categorized and ultimately, to be consumed, has materialized only to confront us in a place reserved for the finest of achievements humans are capable of: art. Katchadourian’s impact, however, is of course still a far cry from previous efforts by other appropriative artists who have helped establishing the genre and as a result have become constant figures of artistic discourse. Since the notion of appropriation first appeared on the world stage in the early 20th century, endorsed by Pablo Picasso and Marcel Duchamp (who famously established the ready-made as a legitimate work of art), and subsequently became one of the most prevailing artistic departures of the 1980s in particular, many have attempted creating meaningful work around it. And more than a few have failed. Just when there seemed to be a need for a new impulse to prevent the genre becoming redundant and stereotypical, online imagery has helped it gaining new prominence. German photographer Thomas Ruff, known for his belonging to Bernd and Hilla Becher’s influential Düsseldorf School of Photography, was among the first to source images from the world wide web. Through various series, Ruff has explored different angles to view these pictures which could hardly be more diverse in terms of subject matter: ‘cassini’ and ‘m.a.r.s’ saw the artist
Seat Assignment, Nina Katchadourian https://www.google.es/search?q=Nina+Katchadourian&es_sm=119&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=GgkPVcy LAoj_UIThgeAL&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAQ&biw=1688&bih=827#tbm=isch&q=Nina+Katchadourian+Seat+Assignment
Well, it could be. We only think of it as text because we recognize its components as letters in a specific relation to one another that conveys meaning. An understanding of the headline as text that carries a particular significance thus bestows a purpose upon it. Meaning indicates relevance, intent and hence, purpose. But what if we were to ignore this comprehension and think of the black lines and curves against the white background purely as visual phenomena? Surely, we could still interpret a fair degree of sense into these appearances of similar size and same colour. Yet, their overall nature would be much more abstract and a potentially indefinite amount of analytical approaches would render them eternally fluid: We could bend and twist them but they would disappear from our hands, eyes and mind and remain beyond our grasp after all. Pictures, more often than not, are chaotic. In Western mainstream culture of the 21st century, it appears everything is first and foremost about the way it looks rather than the way it feels, sounds, smells or tastes. Pop stars are a good example. Once celebrated solely on grounds of their artistic integrity, vocal range and ability to move the masses, they now form part of a system where their image – in the sense of picture – makes an equally important contribution to their success. Accordingly, many of them have become about the packaging as much as they are about the music. They might not always be pleasant to look at but they are shrill and exciting, ever-changing and hence relevant. A Google image search for Lady Gaga leaves little doubt of her status as an ‘image pop star’. Similarly, singer Beyoncé went out of her way to shoot a music video for each and every single song from her 2013 Visual Album. In line with these observations, food seems another aspect of life becoming an increasingly visual experience. It is perfectly normal finding a friend’s dinner or, more precisely, a photo of a friend’s dinner, on our Instagram feed and proclaiming ‘that looks so good’. Our thirst for imagery has led us to carry pictures with us at all times. These photos are different from the passport snapshot of a child carried around in their
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using photos from the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s (NASA) public online archive; the raw material for his ‘nudes’ is taken from pornography websites and ‘jpegs’ is constituted of online imagery showing landscapes as well as war scenarios. It appears that Ruff is more concerned with the image as such rather than with what it depicts. The techniques he applies to re-contextualize his material lead to similar results: His work is always blurry or pixilated; either way our vision of it is (being) disturbed. The pixel, an appearance of the digital age, occurs as a consequence of having created extremely enlarged versions of the original pictures which in return are revealed to be mere data rather than images in the traditional sense. Perceiving them as files allows us to draw conclusions about their ability to capture and represent reality. To what degree do we still sense a feeling of unease looking at a highly pixilated version of the World Trade Center collapsing and how much sexual arousal can be caused by a nude blurred out almost beyond the point of recognition? In short: How representative is the pixel of the reality it aims to illustrate? A significant accomplishment of an appropriative practice based on material taken from the internet is, without a doubt, the discussion of said material and following sensitization towards it. Fittingly, this process can be said to have been predictable if not evident from the start seeing it is the surface through which we perceive the internet – the screen – that has introduced us to the pixel as a new component in visuals in the first place, eventually penetrating the realm of visual arts. If there were no pixels, there would be little need to analyze what differentiates the physical from the digital image. And this is not the only conclusion we can make in regards to Thomas Ruff: By focusing on the technical nature of his raw material, the photographer seems to disapprove the idea of content-specific work. Admittedly, depictions of war and sexuality are existential to the human experience but their obvious disparity yet similar treatment supports the idea of Ruff regarding them primarily as data. Partially, this might also be said to comment on the virtually boundless di-
THIS HE ADLINE IS A PIC TURE
versity of pictures available in this day and age tique into the digital age’. Along with the actual and how even the most trivial-seeming content photos, visitors can also download a detailed is now adaptable to be turned into an outcome description on how to print and frame them of artistic value. The photographer’s body of as well as a certificate of authenticity to verify work, hence, can be interpreted to be a telling their printout is indeed ‘an authentic work of (though maybe not directly intended) response art by Michael Mandiberg so long as the […] to today’s surfeit of images. conditions [of printing and framing] have been As with all art that uses the found object met’. It is questionable, however, whether this as a starting point, difficulties can arise when home-made art, coming out of the printer and the necessary question of originality is posed. completely democratizing the availability of art Postmodernism has argued the idea of orig- not only digitally but also physically, can belong inality in the arts is a myth. Everything is de- to anyone at all. Regardless of the artist’s provirived from something else and therefore, trying sion of above-mentioned certificate, is the final to create the new rather than incorporating image on a wall really a Mandiberg? Or is it a the already-existing in one’s work is deemed a Levine? Perhaps, it is an Evans after all or – acfruitless undertaking. This notion appears to cording to the postmodern paradigm – there is make perfect sense in the face of a constantly- no original creator of the work. One can barely changing world driven by information and im- help but smile at such considerations. It is no ages, where the sheer flow of these things is too surprise Mandiberg himself calls his websites rapid for anyone to keep up with. Since humans a ‘one-liner art prank’. And because 2001 seems have started perceiving themselves as one spe- like an eternity ago now that we live in times of cies with a shared, universal awareness, they trending topics and push notifications, yet anhave also had to try making sense of a world far other artist has already re-appropriated the too big for an individual to grasp. In the race of work: Using Mandiberg’s images, Bujar Bala has coping with a surplus of input, individuality has created a photo album entitled After Michael little space. The so-called ‘Pictures Generation’ Mandiberg on www.jalbum.net (the album has of the late 1970s and early 1980s, including art- since been deleted) which was also available for ists like Richard Prince, Cindy Sherman and download as an iPhone app and, as an apparSherrie Levine who all re-photographed and ap- ently logical climax, has now started uploading propriated advertisements, film stills and other snapshots of Mandiberg’s website onto the imagery, questioned photographic authorship; Instagram account @aftermichaelmandiberg. often at the cost of harsh criticism. Levine pho- Whether these efforts are more a re-appropritographed pictures out of an exhibition cata- ation of Mandiberg or a re-re-re-appropriation logue on Evan’s work for her series After Walker of Evans remains as unanswered as the degree Evans. The original images were taken just after of seriousness with which they have been made, the Great American Depression in the 1930s causing the thought of the impossibility of arand portrayed the living conditions of destitute tistic authorship to gain momentum. How many families in the United States. An appropriation layers can a work of art have before it loses its themselves, the internet age has made it pos- substance? If we keep adding new meanings to sible for them to be re-appropriated when US the work of others merely for the sake or re-conartist Michael Mandiberg scanned Evan’s pho- textualization, it will eventually cease to convey tographs to subsequently distribute them on the anything but its hybrid character: The work will websites www.aftersherrielevine.com and www. fail to connect us with its origin, whether one afterwalkerevans.com in 2001. On both web- defines that to be a natural occurrence or the sites, Mandiberg states ‘I have [scanned these product of human intervention with such an ocsame photographs] both as a critique, and as a currence, and refer to nothing but the fact that collaboration, to use [Levine’s] own phrase. By it can be partially adapted to virtually anything scanning [these] images, I am bringing her cri- – but devotes itself to nothing fully.
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What really makes for a successful appropriation is sentiment towards the source material and a distinguished understanding of why it deserves being propelled to a new level of relevance. A keyword for the globally-operating creative community in a culture of never-ending Tumblr feeds is collaboration. Thanks to the internet, artists’ work is now more accessible than ever before. And more often than not, it does not evoke a need to be re-contextualized but a desire to collaborate with its creator on a project. The dissemination of one’s work is always a call for discourse and often a means of advertising it. Few finished products seem to engage more artists than the music video, generally bringing singers, directors, costume or fashion designers, makeup artists, illustrators and more under one roof. Icelandic vocalist Björk, whose experimental take on music and visuals is being celebrated in a major retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art in New York this year, has recently collaborated with Los Angeles-based director Andrew Thomas Huang for a number of projects including a moving album cover and a ten minute video experience shown at the MoMA. The latter features the song Black Lake, co-produced by the singer herself and Londonbased music producer Arca, as well as two looks created by Dutch avant-garde designer Iris van Herpen. Although the end result is perceived to carry Björk’s name more than anyone else’s, it is in reality the product of diversity. Decisively, work like this would not be possible without the close bonds established between artists of different genres who live and work in their respective time zones and rely on the internet to research one another’s work and communicate ideas virtually. This is, of course, especially true for collaborations happening on a smaller scale, without the means provided by superstardom. While specific bits of artistic output created in such trajectories belong to each and every collaborator involved, the work per se, it can be argued, belongs to the culture of sharing one’s art and in return being exposed to others’ art. It is the child of a creative potential unprecedented in history. A potential made feasible by the overwhelming interconnectedness of all crea-
tive minds, willingly partaking in the fluent exchange of thoughts and concepts throughout the wide spectrum of cyber space. Many fullblown collaborations as well as customizations, which are currently highly popular and see artist’s reaching out to others to lend a new dimension to their work, do not just benefit from this exchange; they are the art of a new era determined by accessibility, exposure, immediacy and unparalleled possibilities. Returning to a level of personal internet usage, we can affirm the social media generation is primarily one that perpetually produces and consumes an endless stream of photographs that fill the void and make up the very matter of what experiencing something means to us. If it is not on Facebook, it did not happen. Unless a picture is the appreciated result of artistic efforts, its general definition changes towards a short-lived sensation that, once it has been seen, is void of value. Photos, the plastic bottles of what our senses allow us to perceive? Perhaps this notion is what first got New York-based artist Kalen Hollomon excited about working with them. Although the imagemaker photographs digitally and has been described as an ‘Instagram artist’, one is likely to find a number of physical photos in his pockets at all times. Hollomon creates collages by skillfully placing cut-outs into real life situations. Whether on the subway or in the busy streets of Manhattan, he is always at the ready to whip out a pair of legs clad in suspenders, a flamboyant haircut or a pornographic still. The outcome, arguably a result of recycling and even up-cycling of pictures, has gotten Hollomon the attention of and subsequent commissions by fashion industry power houses such as American Vogue and Prada. It also got him a following of more than 80.000 Instagram users. Noticeably, he himself follows nearly 1% the amount of people which is a whole lot when you imagine 700+ individuals. Hollomon seems to belong to a group of artists to whom the constant flow of images serves as an inspiration. There is no ‘too much’ because any visual input could possibly trigger a new idea. His art made on the streets seems created abruptly and intuitively, never missing
an opportunity. Interestingly, by altering the appearance of people he sees in the streets, he adds a layer of appropriation to real life. For METAL #33, however, Hollomon has worked his magic on some of the most talked about advertisement campaigns of spring/summer 2015: Céline, Miu Miu, Loewe and Balmain amongst others. Some of these are likely to have previously crossed our paths somewhere between the tabs of our internet browsers. Having been transformed into works of art, however, they have matured into wittier and more memorable versions of their former selves. While the pictures can be appreciated on a purely aesthetic level, their real force is how effectively they establish a dialogue between fashion photography and montage, commerce and art, source material and new context. Though the work seems somewhat untamed and chaotic, it is the result of the artist’s attempt to bestow meaning upon it. What then, if we were to read it like text rather than pictures? If we were to interpret sense into the blurs of colour, the brush strokes and the cutouts applied to it. Perhaps they would tell us how Hollomon selected his material and how he worked with it. More likely though, these layers applied by the artist would tell stories about identity and encounters, in a more concise but far less compelling way they do as pictures. And if, finally, a close investigation of each and every pixel – as Thomas Ruff would advice – allowed for no conclusion other than that the work itself is nothing but mere, transient data incapable of representing anything but itself, we would be best off accepting that a return to the grains of a printed page might be the ultimate appropriation and hence a last resort for the digital – even if the work is created by an artist intentionally drowning himself in the ad infinitum stream of internet imagery.
Mars, Thomas Ruff https://www.google.es/search?es_sm=119&biw=1688&bih=827&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=Thomas+Ruff_Ma.r.s&oq=Thomas+Ruff_Ma.r.s&gs_l=img.3...446341.446341.0.446782.1. 1.0.0.0.0.90.90.1.1.0.msedr...0...1c.2.62.img..1.0.0.d7YtwLVnUxM&dpr=1.1&cad=cbv&sei=VgkPVeX-CoHmUtXag6AG#tbm=isch&q=Thomas+Ruff+Mars&spell=1
After Walker Evans, Sherrie Levine https://www.google.es/search?q=Sherrie+Levine+After+Walker+Evans&es_sm=119&biw=1688& bih=827&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=kwcPVdP3LIiUasmKgrgC&ved=0CAYQ_AUoAQ
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