Turn On, Tune In, Tap Out

CAMH Teen Council

Turn On, Tune In, Tap Out

Contemporary Arts Museum Houston’s (CAMH) Teen Council is pleased to present Turn On, Tune In, Tap Out, a group exhibition featuring work by over thirty Houston-area teen artists including painting, sculpture, video, and photography. Like the rest of the world, these Teen Council members faced the rapid shift to quarantine in the middle of the school year. During a global pandemic and widespread uncertainty the Teen Council has continued to meet, plan, and connect–all in a virtual space. In seeking artwork to include in this exhibition they posed the questions: How do you define “The Screen”? How does “The Screen” protect you or hold you back? How can you crack “The Screen”? The works chosen respond to these questions with both hope and despair. Artists in the exhibition have found their voice and power behind the screen, while others feel muted and a loss of control. Turn On, Tune In, Tap Out focuses on the relationship between our bodies and “The Screen” with largely three-dimensional works in a time when many are craving physicality, touch, and in-person experiences while directly responding to this cultural, social, and political moment.

About CAMH’s Teen Council

Composed of young arts enthusiasts, Teen Council serves as the Museum’s vehicle for attracting the city’s teen population to CAMH and exposing them to the vibrant field of contemporary art. For council members, the group serves as a highly collaborative creative incubator that opens up opportunities for leadership, visual literacy, and life skill development. During weekly meetings, the council is introduced to the inner workings of museums and to the dynamic Houston arts community. Teen Council activities are decided upon by its members and can change from year to year, but past events developed by the Teen Council include virtual zines, exhibitions, fashion shows, film screenings, listening parties, music festivals, and poetry readings.

Celine Huang Ava Jiang

Jessica Liu Katrina Machetta

The Shared Experience

By Adrianna Benavides

Teen Council and Tour Programs Coordinator

In 2008 I created an artwork titled Are You Addicted? which expressed my concern for social media overconsumption with the then-popular website MySpace. I am familiar with the challenges of “The Screen” and “going virtual” in March 2020 due to the pandemic seemed like something that should have been easy for me. However, the disruption raised many questions: Where in my small apartment can I set up a home office? Do my students have internet access and reliable devices? What about next year’s Teen Council-curated exhibition? How do you coordinate an exhibition from home? My confidence wavered.

More thought had to go into planning weekly virtual meetings than any other Teen Council year. Many initial meetings are establishing a respectful group dynamic. How will the group bond? How do I conduct effective virtual “ice breakers’’? A typical experience in Teen Council is full of field trips to arts organizations, studio visits with artists, and a behind-the-scenes view into museums. It was an exhibition year (Teen Council curates an exhibition in CAMH’s Zilkha Gallery every other year) and I was nervous. Would the exhibition hold as much value if we had to make it virtual?

In our first meeting my worry dissipated as I met 13 eager staff members ready to absorb all the information about working in a museum and leave a positive impact on their community. Meeting by meeting, we all grew confident in virtual programs, making decisions via Zoom polls, and in our work as we saw the exhibition we were planning, Turn On, Tune In, Tap Out, become a reality. CAMH staff discussed personal topics like imposter syndrome and lack of control. Collectively all of us were experiencing a pandemic and it was

enlightening for everyone in the Zoom room. This group of Teen Council members know each other in a different way as each week we admire each other’s bedrooms and personal spaces. One work in the exhibition, As Seen on TV (2021) by Luke Parker captures the awe I feel when getting to see these windows into the student’s lives. We kicked off our Zoom interface by taking turns as DJ. The consistency of our meetings and the hard work each student dedicated to this exhibition diminished the reality of only being able to interact online. It was only natural for this exhibition to be shaped by our collective experience with “The Screen.”

The teen artwork submitted during the open call for this exhibition, helped me to understand the depth of the shared experience during this pandemic. I can relate to them about screen fatigue and the restlessness of physical confinement. It was not an easy year for anyone however art making remained consistent in many people’s lives. Collectively and individually we grew to understand why we are a strong team, how to use technology to our advantage, and demonstrate the physicality of the screen. I am so glad that through the challenges of this year we get to enjoy creating an in-person art viewing experience. I am glad that despite the initial challenges of only meeting virtually we were able to execute Turn On, Tune In, and Tap Out for the city of Houston to experience and a place to showcase our collaboration and hard work. I am grateful to each teammate on Teen Council and CAMH’s staff.

Due to a declining trend in time spent viewing works of art at museums that have been recorded for the past two decades, it is safe to say that images and objects are visually consumed at such a quick pace that little to no discussion or even significant thought goes into viewing the artwork. Many people just take photos or selfies with the artwork and move along, as proven by studies conducted at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City by Lisa F. Smith and Jeffrey K. Smith. The internet, especially social media, has reduced our attention spans so much that most of what we see online is just for short-term entertainment. Generation Z has especially fallen into the habit of looping back and forth between multiple social media applications and streaming services (such as Instagram, Netflix, and Twitter), yet so little of what we see on these platforms ever makes an impact on us. Now due to the worldwide COVID-19 pandemic lockdowns, nearly all of our daily life happens behind a screen making this cycle even more prominent. Generation Z is growing up with this system of media production and consumption working at full capacity; but is this affecting our ability to create relevant artwork? How is the work we produce during the pandemic different from work created before?

Turn On, Tune In, Tap Out is an exhibition moving directly against current trends in the sense that the artwork Teen Council is presenting has conceptual depth to it that looks further past aesthetics and brief satisfaction. The teen artists included in this exhibition sat down in their bedrooms and created work in response to the consequences of their entire lives being contained within screens–and now

within their homes during the pandemic. It is not very often that during my teen life I hear a peer talk about the lasting effects or social impacts technology has made on our generation. It is even less common for me to see artwork made by my peers that discusses these societal changes at all. As a member of Generation Z, I fear that this lack of discussion surrounding our current media consumption habits will only allow them to worsen. I feel extremely proud to be able to give my fellow teen artists a platform to hold these conversations, to express our fears and dreams about technology, and to encourage deeper thought within our generation to truly analyze the way technology has shaped our world.

Generations before us have their own art movements and eras, major historical events, and world-famous figures. Not only is it important to truly analyze and understand the media we are presented with, but it is imperative that we create meaningful work in response to it. Whether that be visual art, performing art, literary work, or any other medium, Gen-Z needs to ensure its cultural footprint is truly set in the history of humanity. What will be our mark? What does the work of a society of digital natives look like? Tune In, Turn on, Tap Out is an exhibition that I hope will be representative of my generation.

The Screen of Possibilities |

When I first started the school year in August 2020, I had a choice between online and in-person learning. I chose online because it offered me a new way to participate on a digital platform that I had yet to learn. For most people, online learning is a black or white concept. Binary or one-dimensional. Good or bad. But for me, I can’t just describe it in one word. I can’t express how much I gained and how much I lost in one year. I lost face-to-face interactions with my peers, but I gained new friendships and unique relationships by using the screen of my computer. I was grateful for even the simplest things in life that all of us took for granted before the pandemic, like hallway conversations, highfives from teachers, and simply being in the presence of good friends and being able to see their whole faces. I can’t describe the virtual world that I was transported into when the pandemic began because I am still living in that world, trying to bring to life everything I lost behind “The Screen”.

Working on Zoom with the Contemporary Arts Museum of Houston’s Teen Council to curate this exhibition was exciting, adventurous, and new terrain for all of us. We wanted to create something relevant and horizon-expanding based on the theme, “The Screen”. Many of us transformed our lives as the pandemic swept away all in-person activities and events. We have all had to learn how to use and create memories from behind “The Screen”. In Teen Council this year, we have had to work around occasional technical difficulties, not being able to meet in-person, and limited video space on Zoom. Despite all this, we have been able to bond and to create lasting friendships over our common passion for art. Our exhibition features artists creating works of art based on

these questions:

How do you define “The Screen”? How does “The Screen” protect you or hold you back? How can you crack “The Screen”?

The exhibition had no pre-existing limitations. We just asked artists to use their imagination to define “The Screen” as it presented the challenges, surprises, and journeys that were different for all of us this year.

Pause reading for a second and ask yourself these questions:

What is “The Screen” in your life? What does your daily life revolve around? What is it that this pandemic has given you besides knowledge on technology?

I asked myself those same questions throughout the year while we created this exhibition.

None of us knew what people would submit since we had no set parameters for the media of the artworks. But as we sifted through the submissions, I was taken aback by what I was seeing and how much of it I could relate to–like Irissa Machetta’s poem Broken Yet Perfectly Made (2021) “engulfed in a bubble” and Avantika Matele’s Mind in the Tube (2021) in overwhelmed “tabs” how much of it transcends our pain of a pandemic year. Every piece was created by an artist who wanted to share the story of their screen and take the viewer on a new journey.

In A Trip to the Grocery Store (2020), Alec Phipps’ gouache painting of masked shoppers, a new perspective emerged of

what “The Screen” can be. Many times we hide behind masks – these screensakin to Halloween every day. This artist broadened my perspective of what a screen can be and what it can do. In Grace Jones’ The Hate Box (2021), the artist evokes the omnipresent hate in our society and media by capturing the barrage of negative news and commentaries we see and hear, interpreting our “screens” as bad when truly we have a choice. We are given these screens of life at times as a test, and what we do and how we respond to this test is really the question. How will I choose to use “The Screen” in my life?

Relish every piece and consider its possibilities. Now that the pandemic is almost behind us, I have gained a deeper appreciation of the simple things in life and a transformative resilience knowing that I am not defined by “The Screen” or by any crucible along the way.

Misaligned Online | Elizabeth Harris–Guillory

I grew up being everyone’s funny friend. Never the friend you invite out or introduce to other friends. From an early age, I was very cognizant of what was considered attractive to society and it just wasn’t me. To me, beauty was everything I wasn’t. I dreamed of having long hair, straight teeth, and a lean physique. Consuming copious amounts of TV and media as a child subconsciously implanted an antiquated, sexist version of beauty in my head. I enjoyed watching Disney as a kid, but somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew I would never get to be Hannah Montana or Lizzie McGuire. People who look like me belong in the back of the frame. Part of the issue with the lack of diversity on screen can be attributed to Laura Mulvey’s theory of the Male Gaze in film. Generally, young women onscreen are expected to be sexy. Even when watching children’s animated programming it isn’t uncommon to see teens being depicted as “fully figured” and wearing makeup constantly. For example, in the 1989 cult classic, The Little Mermaid, the titular character is only 16, yet constantly wears red lipstick and is especially shapely and busty. Moreover, her entire storyline revolves around Ariel in relation to the men in her life. From childhood, female characters have to fit the conventional standards of attractiveness to give the audience something worth watching. Even though Mulvey penned her essay in 1975, so much of it still rings true. Women in stories are often made out to be inherently sexual for simply being themselves. The sexual objectification of women doesn’t end in film and literature though. As social media began its reign on the minds of our society, it greatly contributed to these patterns. Rather than male directors though, it’s now women themselves unknowingly posting in the same

vein looking for validation. For years, seeds of insecurity have been sowed in our minds and it’s hard to decipher whether social media is digging them up or planting more.

I think consuming such media at a young age made me feel like I had to be sexy to be pretty and that I had to be someone else to receive the kind of validation I was looking for. One of the best and also worst things about growing up in the age of social media is the ability to shape people’s perception of you. My friends at school knew me as Lizzy, the clumsy, kind of weird, class clown, but on the internet I felt like I could really be Elizabeth. On the internet, people don’t have to see your bed head or your bad days, they see what you allow them to see. Isatu Gassama’s Powerless (2020) paints a similar picture of having multiple faces. Upon looking at the three faces depicted it made me think of my internet face and persona and the face my family sees. For a time, people didn’t even know what I looked like underneath a skin-lightening, “beauty” filter. Even if you say you’re just on Instagram for fun, it’s easy to get caught up in the game of likes and gratification. I, and so many other people, have a fun persona on the Internet that only allows people to see the “likeable” parts. For instance, me wearing clothes that conceal my body type could make it on my story, while anything showing my rolls wouldn’t make the cut. Me with a full face of makeup and false eyelashes is acceptable, but me barefaced isn’t. It became an issue when I only felt pretty under a filter or when someone else in my comment section told me so. Alexis Rodriguez’s Spoken Truth (2020) explores the effects of a distorted self-image on the psyche. Using gouache and colored pencils, Rodriguez highlights the staggering difference in how we are perceived on camera versus in real life. In

the work, the girl’s face on the viewfinder is severely warped in comparison to the real face behind the camcorder. Using editing apps to make my waist smaller and filters that whitened my skin led me to not really recognize myself anymore. For a while I suffered from body dysmorphia because of this and it got so bad that I would just avoid looking at my appearance all together.

When coming up with the questions used in the open call for the exhibition Turn on, Tune in, Tap out, the question, “How can you crack “The Screen”?”, really stuck with me. It prompted me to think of my own ongoing mental health problems and social media addiction. What can I do to break this cycle of plummeting self-esteem and disconnection? To me cracking the screen means finding balance and making an active effort to be present in my everyday life. I recently read a Mark Twain quote that has become my philosophy; “The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.” To avoid that loneliness I’ve taken a hiatus from social media. Getting to know myself and becoming comfortable with myself takes getting back to basics. This past year was very tumultuous for me, but it also provided me with the time I needed to be introspective. Spending so much time alone and truly trying to appreciate all the small aspects of my life has changed my perspective of what aspects of me are worthy of being shown to the public. Filter or not, I’m still me and that’s enough.

Mulvey, L. (1973). The Male Gaze. Retrieved March 29, 2021, from https:// www.asu.edu/courses/fms504/total-readings/mulvey-visualpleasure.pdf

Mulvey, L. (1973). The Male Gaze. Retrieved March 29, 2021, from https:// www.asu.edu/courses/fms504/total-readings/mulvey-visualpleasure.pdf

A quote by Mark Twain. (n.d.). Retrieved March 29, 2021, from https:// www.goodreads.com/quotes/83918-the-worst-loneliness-is-to-not-becomfortable-with-yourself

Natalie Mafrige

Wire Spine, 2021

Chicken wire, cellophane, yarn, packing tape, watercolor paper, oil pastel, recycled wooden frame, iPhone, scissors, and tape

James Tendencia

Construct of Belief, 2020

Wire, balsa wood, plaster strips, coconut leaf grass, cardboard, card stock, metal chains, acrylic mixed with baking powder, stockings, leather, electronic wires, doorknobs, and plastic tubing

Sadie Burlton

Plugged In, 2021 Acrylic on paper

Sam Nunez

A SUBSTITUTION FOR HUMANKIND, 2020

Watercolor and ink pen on paper

Sam Nunez

REDUCED TO BYTES, 2020

Watercolor and ink pen on paper

Sam Nunez

BOTS DON’T BREATHE BENZENE , 2020

Gouache and colored pencil on paper

Kathryn Stone

The Great Escape, 2020

Window frame with glass insert, window screen, plastic wrap, packing tape, plywood, fishing line, foam insulation, and acrylic

Mason Hartley

The Hand of the Screen, 2021 Computer parts, plaster, wire, and glue

Levi Bicas

Untitled (figures cut in paper), 2021 Paper and light fixture

Grace Jones

The Hate Box, 2021

Computer monitor, keyboard, acrylic, paint markers, stuffed animals, stuffing, wire, and rubber band

Hales

The Center of I, 2020 Acrylic, ink, sharpie, newspaper clippings on canvas (five parts)

Sofia Liu

Entrapped In a Void, 2021 Digital inkjet print on canvas

Grace Vallone Theater, 2020 Inkjet print

Eliza Crawford Eyes to See, 2021 Paper, glue, string, and wood

Phipps

Avantika Matele

Mind in the Tube, 2021 Digital prints on paper

Alexis Rodriguez Spoken Truth, 2020 Gouache and colored pencil on paper

Luke Parker

As Seen on TV, 2021 2001 Sony CRT television, spray paint, toys, beads, plastic rhinestones, and LED string lightss

The Ascent, 2020

HD video: black and white, sound, 1:15 minutes

Danny Zuniga Zarat

Danny Zuniga Zarat Siluetas, 2020

HD video: black and white, sound, 2:45 minutes

Catalogue of the Exhibition

All works are courtesy of the artist

Natalie Mafrige

Wire Spine, 2021

Chicken wire, cellophane, yarn, packing tape, watercolor paper, oil pastel, recycled wooden frame, iPhone, scissors, and tape

James Tendencia

Construct of Belief, 2020 Wire, balsa wood, plaster strips, coconut leaf grass, cardboard, card stock, metal chains, acrylic mixed with baking powder, stockings, leather, electronic wires, doorknobs, and plastic tubing

Sadie Burlton

Plugged In, 2021 Acrylic on paper

Sam Nunez

A

SUBSTITUTION FOR

HUMANKIND, 2020

Watercolor and ink pen on paper

Sam Nunez

REDUCED TO BYTES, 2020

Watercolor and ink pen on paper

Sam Nunez

BOTS DON’T BREATHE

BENZENE, 2020

Gouache and colored pencil on paper

Emilia Sterkel

Individuality, 2020 Wood, wire armature, tin foil, clay, and plaste

Kathryn Stone

The Great Escape, 2020

Window frame with glass insert, window screen, plastic wrap, packing tape, plywood, fishing line, foam insulation, and acrylic

Mason Hartley

The Hand of the Screen, 2021 Computer parts, plaster, wire, and glue

Levi Bicas

Untitled (figures cut in paper), 2021

Paper and light fixture

Grace Jones

The Hate Box, 2021

Computer monitor, keyboard, acrylic, paint markers, stuffed animals, stuffing, wire, and rubber band

Guanyi Li

Screen Lover, 2021

Digital photographic collage

Hales

The Center of I, 2020 Acrylic, ink, sharpie, newspaper clippings on canvas (five parts)

Isatu Gassama Powerless, 2021 Acrylic on canvas

Sofia Liu

Entrapped In a Void, 2021 Digital inkjet print on canvas

Grace Vallone Theater, 2020 Inkjet print

Irissa Machetta Broken Yet Perfectly Made, 2021

Digital inkjet print on paper

Corina Perez Windows, 2020 Watercolor and collage on paper, fabric, buttons, newspaper, yarn, puff paint

Eliza Crawford Eyes to See, 2021 Paper, glue, string, and wood

Garner Lazar-Pope Family Reunion, 2021 Digital inkjet print on paper

Elliot Stravato Entropy, 2020

Digital photographic collage (three parts)

Alec Phipps

A Trip To The Grocery Store, 2020

Gouache on bristol board

Patrick Solcher Collage of An Elderly Woman, 2020 Watercolor paper and fabric

Avantika Matele

Mind in the Tube, 2021 Digital prints on paper

Blair Reeves Reunion, 2020 Digital photographic collage

Alexis Rodriguez Spoken Truth, 2020 Gouache and colored pencil on paper

Luke Parker

As Seen on TV, 2021

2001 Sony CRT television, spray paint, toys, beads, plastic rhinestones, and LED string lights

Danny Zuniga Zarat The Ascent, 2020

HD video: black and white, sound, 1:15 minutes

Danny Zuniga Zarat Siluetas, 2020

HD video: black and white, sound, 2:45 minutes

Hesse McGraw

Executive Director

Janice Bond

Deputy Director

Tim Barkley Registrar

Adrianna Benavides Teen Council and Tour Programs Coordinator

Quincy Berry Assistant Gallery Supervisor

Felice Cleveland Director of Education and Public Programs

Kelly Dolan Development Coordinator

Laura Dickey Grants Coordinator

Kenya Evans Gallery Supervisor Troy Jasmin Controller

Faye Hosein Assistant Director of Development

Hannah Lange Communications Coordinator

Kristin Massa Videographer

Rebecca Matalon Curator

Cheryl Newcomb Director of Development

Phillip Pyle, II Graphic Designer and Retail Manager

Mike Reed

Assistant Director of Facilities and Risk Management

Patricia Restrepo Exhibitions Manager and Assistant Curator

Jeff Shore Head Preparator

Kent Michael Smith Director of Communications and Marketing

Seba Suber Director of Finance and Strategic Initiatives

YET Torres Public Programs Coordinator

Board of Trustees

Dillion A. Kyle Chair

Howard Robinson President Ruth Dressen Vice President and Treasurer

Louise Jamail Secretary

Liz Anders Allison Armstrong Ayers Mary Barone

James M. Bell Jr. Margaret Vaughan Cox Jamal Cyrus Paula M. Daly

Haydeh Davoudi

Joseph C. Gatto Jr. Kerry Inman

Page Kempner

Bryn Larsen

Marian Livingston

Catherine Masterson

Elisabeth McCabe

Greg McCord Mac McManus Mark Miller

Floyd Newsum Cabrina Owsley

Elisa Stude Pye Jay Shinn

Nicholas Silvers

Justin Smith Bell Toomey Elizabeth Satel Young

CAMH’s Teen Council and the exhibition Turn On, Tune In, Tap Out are generously supported by Louise Stude Sarofim, with additional support provided by Mark and Mary Ann Miller.

Contemporary Arts Museum Houston is funded in part by the City of Houston through Houston Arts Alliance.

Exhibition Donors and Patrons

Nora and Bob Ackerley, Chinhui and Eddie Allen The Brown Foundation, Inc., of Houston Blakely and Trey Griggs, George and Mary Josephine Hamman Foundation, Houston Endowment, Inc. John R. Eckel, Jr. Foundation, Sissy and Denny Kempner, Lucinda and Javier Loya, M. D. Anderson Foundation, National Endowment for the Arts, Rea Charitable Trust, River Oaks District, The Sarofim Foundation, Louisa Stude Sarofim, Texas Commission on the Arts, Phoebe Tudor, Wallace S. Wilson Marion and David Young

Artist-Benefactors

Andisheh Avini, Rhona Bitner, Will Boone, Robert Bordo, Billy Childish, Holly Coulis, Cheryl Donegan Thomas Glassford, Joseph Havel, Jenny Holzer

Paul Kremer, Georgia Marsh, Floyd Newsum

Angel Otero, Aaron Parazette, Eduardo Portillo Ed Ruscha, Margo Sawyer, Bret Shirley Peter Sullivan, Nari Ward, Guy Yanai