Branded | Spring 2018 by Grinnell Underground Magazine [GUM]

All publications funded by SPARC are copy-right of SPARC and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without specific written consent from SPARC. Printed by Cover FX Waverly, IA 2

All publications funded by SPARC are copy-right of SPARC and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without specific written consent from SPARC. Printed by Cover FX Waverly, IA

table of contents

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Letter From Us Graffiti And Art Two Poems Two Poems Digital Dump Photoshoot the beast Amazonia By: Christian Baumann

By: Mira Berkson

By: Steven Duong

By: Francess Dunbar

By: Nate Williams

Letter Letter From From the the editors editors Dear Readers,

Branding is both the language and the currency of the Western world. In the age of hashtags, sexy Mr. Clean, Adidas trefoils (yes, those three stripes have a name), and Netflix Sans, we can reupholster the truth with our words and our wallets. Branding is a declarative act; we market ourselves as we want to be seen, consumed, digested. Our culture is the lovechild of a billboard and a boombox: larger than life and louder than hell. American culture prods you to distinguish yourself from the crowd — just like everyone else. Through Nike swooshes and Vineyard Vines, mottos and mantras, we project an image that hope will solidify into reality. By building a personal brand, we manifest our aspirations and sign ourselves into existence. Over the past four years, Grinnell College has been tirelessly reshaping its brand into something that appeals more to a certain type of prospective student. This student is what Grinnell refers to when it says “we.” This student is a pixel in a pamphlet, a meal plan, a set of loosely defined progressive ideals, a bowl of soup, a ~global citizen~, an annually swelling tuition payment, a diversity stat, a brand within the bigger brand. While we are on board with making Grinnell more diverse, globally connected, and deeply rooted, the ways in which the college implements this new brand creates a static image of its students. This isn’t just rebranding, it;’s abridging, editing, marginalizing, and discarding what doesn’t fit. An image of the institution that erases the selves that construct it. A brand that is only a screen, and not every intentional, individual, and interwoven act of branding behind it. We’ve chosen BRANDED for this spring’s issue not only to raise timely and pressing questions about Grinnell in the here and now, but because these issues won’t go away—we just stop noticing them because they became part of our environment. This issue celebrates how we as students embrace and embellish ourselves. But to do so without acknowledging how the college brands us will lead us to mistranslate our experiences, our traumas, and our joys. Without this understanding, we can never reach a nuanced portrayal of the silly, dramatic, messy stories we’ve spun around ourselves. Branding doesn’t have to happen in the terrifying bowels of a megacorporation, and it doesn’t have to reduce us to prototypes that can only study or socialize or survive, never all at once. Ultimately, branding is relational, and brands are stories, stories to be told, edited, analyzed, sampled, plagiarized, published, sold, balled up and tossed into the recycling bin in pursuit of yet another shape. We hope this issue of the GUM can be an anthology of all the stories we Grinnell students tell in order to brand ourselves onto the world. This summer, keep your minds busy and your brands fresh.

Yours in Splitting Color, [GUM]squad 7

Graffiti and

the art market

By: Christian Baumann As a kid who grew up in New York City, graffiti art unintentionally followed me throughout my childhood. However it wasn’t until I became interested in urban street culture that I realized the impact that graffiti art and its artists have had on the commercialization of art. This began my fascination for the artists that were well known in the street culture industry – those who could collaborate with brands and create hype around their products. What I found from this was while street-based graffiti artists were very prevalent in branding and creating the new hot fashion commodity; highart artists, those whose works are often purchased from sophisticated, wealthy individuals and sell for millions in the art market, were commercializing their artwork in ways that targeted street culture as well. By studying contemporary artists such as Damien Hirst, Jeff Koons, George Condo, Takashi Murakami, and comparing their works to those of Kaws, Futura, Jean-Michele Basquiat, Keith Haring and other “inherently true” graffiti artists, my paper develops an argument for how the commercialization techniques of those that are considered financially successful aren’t much different from the those that are conducted by graffiti artists.

While the high-art artists have dominated the art market in recent years, graffiti artists are finding success in commercializing their works through brands and other outlets. Products from contemporary art museum stores such as Kaws’ figurines for the Museum of Modern Art, clothing companies such as Bape, Supreme, DKNY, and Nike, and even the LVMH’s cognac label Hennessy, are all pairing with graffiti artists to connect to street culture. Though there may seem like there is a divide between the graffiti art artists and the high-art artists, all of these artists are commercializing their art similarly by collaborating with street-culture brands or even with rappers. George Condo, Damien Hirst, Takashi Murakami, and Jeff Koons have all worked to produce individual series’ of limited edition skateboards in collaboration with Supreme, who is arguably the leading street wear brand in terms of popularity but also in terms of collaborating with graffiti art artists. Supreme has collaborated with all the artists that have been listed so far, making it an interesting resort for artists from both groups to produce their works in an alternative manner. By doing this, highart artists are able to target a selection of people that wouldn’t otherwise be able

to afford their work, given the amount that they go for in the art market. There is also an interesting connection to rap culture that both artist groups have expressed interest in working with. Kanye West has used both groups of artists in order to create album artwork for his albums. Both Condo and Murakami have done album artwork for Kanye West, with Condo designing the album artwork “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” along with Murakami’s artwork for “Graduation”. However, Kaws, a graffiti / pop artist, did the album artwork for West’s album “808’s and Heartbreak”. Even though the financially successful high-art artists may consider their art to be on a higher level than graffiti art, they’ve all targeted a specific audience that is interested in street culture and is often paired with graffiti and street-art. By looking at commercial merchandise such as t-shirts, skateboards, and shoes, there is a relatively clear lack of divide between the ways each of these two artist groups commercialize their art and their own brand.

Grinne

What’s your brand? “Emotionally distant soccer mom” “Pit witch” “Joining bands at an exponential rate”

What is Grinnell’s Brand? “Having lunch w/ five of yr latest hookups all together, on accident” “Pooping in the same on-campus bathroom at the same time everyday” “Coming at midnight to event that started at 9pm” “Fuck capitalism” “but also,, can I get a La Croix” “Extensive critical analysis of memes”

“Not subtle, not fit, vans, young thug album on repeat” “Visor w/ hoop earrings“

“Flaccid grunge”

“Soft yelling from fear of what’s real (aaaahhh)”

“Lemonade and #lemonade”

“Health goth”

“East Berlin 1989”

“Curated instagram feed, midwest emo, french revolution memes”

“Latex free condoms” “Dhall plate, a piece of cheese pizza, carrots, sliced apple w/ peanut butter, water w/ice” “Bird dad/mom” “Blue eyebrows n losing my shit” “Wearing my fitbit during sex” “Hamburger helper mixtape”

“Caprese boi” “Always wearing hiking boots to wander confidently”

nellians Brand Grinnell What brand is a dealbreaker?

“People from New York CIty” “….Birkenstocks” “Meat as a display of masculinity” “Liking anything from the cultural wasteland of the 80’s” “Referring to yourself as a Manic-Pixie-Girl or quirky” “Sperry’s” “Obey“ “Vineyard Vine’s” “Liking Drake” “Wearing flip-flops/shorts when it’s cold outside” “Performative wokeness as your whole identity”

What’s a ‘brary but a bucket o’ booze gives me courage that I’ll never lose this alternative persona likes steak and corona and always attends a good moo$e I’ve got Rob, Peter, Abdiel, Tara, all hotties just like the Sahara they increase my heart rate, though we’ll never go date I eat knowledge ‘stead of marin-ah-ra In my palace, I’m the cutest chick where I take study breaks really quick, float around for an hour motivation turned sour at the amoebas, I take my pick What’s a library but a hotbox for love “Burling Slut,” it fits me like a glove, maybe this is the real self-gov.

by: Mira Berkson

Burling Library Slut

I used to be afraid of the burling first bathroom suspiciously convenient tainted, probably something so sought after must be a disappointment Over the months, I have grown to love the shit-tracked bowl. I put my nose in my shirt as I wipe pee speckles off the seat

by: Mira Berkson

Here, germs are anonymous no way of tracing inherited E. coli or secondhand chlamydia they dance with the bacteria within My favorite vandalism can only be read frontwards when looking in the mirror: “we are all a part of every person we have ever met” a fitting statement in this room with spiraling fecal matter and wandered thoughts, caught off guard by a knock at the door A rest interrupted, no time for adequate pondering, condensed extractions from top and bottom parts, with grace from an outside waiter --they could always just go down the stairs For all the butts I’ve roundabout ass-bumped, thank you for who you’ve made me into, your musings swirling with your menstrual blood in the fishbowl of now

Graffiti’d Getaway

DATA! DATA! DATA! DATA! DATA! DATA!

Based on a survey of current Grinnellians 17

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By: Caroline Loftus

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A T A D

DIGITAL DUMP D DIGITAL DUMP D DIGITAL DUMP D DIGITAL DUMP D DIGITAL DUMP D DIGITAL DUMP D DIGITAL DUMP D DIGITAL DUMP D https://tinyurl.com/dump2018 20

P DIGITAL DUMP P DIGITAL DUMP P DIGITAL DUMP P DIGITAL DUMP P DIGITAL DUMP P DIGITAL DUMP P DIGITAL DUMP P DIGITAL DUMP 21

how to “succeed” in “business” without really “trying”

q at h

y a d A

Supervisors hate him!

loca real 24

cal man destroys ality in the office 25

d r a s h n o t r o i o s t f r s e k e s A nsw qu a sy a e

work study participants -in-training 27

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Where “&” Means And TM

THE BEA When I was younger, my mother used to say that my father would get lost in his own mind sometimes. He would not lay stationary during these times, but wander around completing simple tasks and smoking cigarettes. He would often spend hours watching television and walking around with his parrot, Carrot, perched on his shoulder. But his normally jolly and warm demeanor would be replaced with a careful sort of distance, as though he was embarrassed at his temporary discomfort at our familial and therefore constant presence in his life.

At the end of these he would usually engage my brother and I in some long conversation about his worldview and life, or take us on a day trip somewhere nearby. One day when my brother was away at some sports game he drove me through the city, and I watched as the little close-together houses become apartment buildings and neon and then more close-together houses with little palm trees and flamingos in front and then houses that were far apart, with lawns and swimming pools and trees that trailed nets of grey moss that were likely to ensnare a passing toddler. Slowly, even the houses disappeared, replaced by warehouses and drainage ditches and to the south, beautiful farms which grew oranges and guava and strawberries all year round. In front of us lay the glades, a vast â&#x20AC;&#x153;sea of grassâ&#x20AC;? that waved invitingly as if to summon you into its swampy depths. The birds above circled leisurely, but it seemed to me that every twitch of the grass signaled the presence of some apex predator. The big pine and cypress trees that lived in little bunches broke up the horizon, preventing it from feeling like an endless expanse. Yet even their presence was alien, some peculiar adaptations turning them into something disarmingly reminiscent of the baobab trees of Madagascar instead of the familiar spiny triangles found not even fifty miles north of here. My father turned onto one of the gravel backroads that were raised above the everglades and drove in for a few miles as I searched the reeds for signs of scaly life. Above there were hawks and eagles, but in the grasses the birds were small and light, with long legs and beaks to pluck unsuspecting guppies from the murky water. We stopped at the edge of a large lake, and my father hopped out of the car and lit a cigarette, wandering to the shoreline.

EAST

I got out of the car too but as I moved forward he stopped me with his hand, holding his finger to his lips. I stood stock still, and followed his pointing finger to its logical conclusion. An alligator law prostrate on the bank, a gaping hole in its stomach. â&#x20AC;&#x153;It must have tried to swallow a python,â&#x20AC;? my father said, and I tensed and looked around. Pythons were an invasive species; most were dropped here by unsatisfied pet owners. No native creature was reliably able to kill them and they were perfect predators for the swampy waters. Oftentimes park rangers would find their twenty foot long shedded skins on the asphalt, as its rough surface helped them molt. The alligators jaws were held open in rigor mortis with and its prehistoric teeth glinted in the hot florida sun. His yellow eye looked out at me, slightly clouded over with condensation. I followed my father as he walked closer to the creature. Though it was obviously dead, I feared that it would come alive and eat him in a single gulp. Instead, he got close to its mouth, and then I feared he would kiss him in some absurd act of infidelity. He grasped one of its large teeth in his palm and gave it the gentlest pull, so small and tender that I almost missed the motion. The tooth came out easily and bloodlessly, and he wiped the yellow grime of the alligatorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s final meals off with an old napkin. Then he placed the tooth in my hand, and we drove away from the beast.

By: Francess Dunbar

AmazonIa by Nate Williams

RANDED BRAND RANDED BRAND RANDED BRAND RANDED BRAND RANDED BRAND RANDED BRAND RANDED BRAND RANDED BRAND Models

Elena Copell Lila Cordozo Regina Logan David Macdonald Tara Verma Editors

Vivian Cheslack Steven Duong Elliott Maya Paige Oamek Nicole Rosengurt Anna Tuchin

NDED BRANDED NDED BRANDED NDED BRANDED NDED BRANDED NDED BRANDED NDED BRANDED NDED BRANDED NDED BRANDED Models

Elena Copell Lila Cordozo Regina Logan David Macdonald Tara Verma Editors

Vivian Cheslack Steven Duong Elliott Maya Paige Oamek Nicole Rosengurt Anna Tuchin 39