Good Face

Artist Jen Mann gives good face. Her print work and paintings are the love children of a high fashion magazine and the prime of the pagan planet. Her pretty subjects have the bone structure of perfect creatures, and the animals she sometimes coaxes out of their ethereal surroundings (or their skulls) are equally perfected.

While the imagery elements (howling wolf, pretty woman) could easily have come from that hippie/suburban spirit shop on Main St., Manning's soft renderings of bold features keeps her work well in the realm of higher art. You can see more of her work at her website and on her blog.

Street Ladies

Artist Katy Grannan has a keen eye for the pretty that exists in the odd. Her work is a body of mostly photographs that shows viewers what they may not think to look at in a way that makes it so they can't stop staring. The artist's latest work centers around a decidedly older group of subjects. In a two part solo exhibition entitled The Happily Ever After at Salon 94's Bowery and Freemans locations (see the site for details) Grannan presents The Believers and Boulevard. The Believers is an unscripted video work featuring a cast of faces familiar to Grannan's cannon; and Boulevard is the artist's rendition of street style photography. In her characteristic way Grannan stopped and snapped an intriguing (beautiful, unsettling, maybe unhinged) set of strangers against a stucco wall, as bright as the California sun.

The photos of Boulevard are of a varied set of passersby that present with their own peculiarities. Each subject carries out some form of visual delusion, whether a dyed mustache masking grays, a teeny tank top defying calendar age, a masculine jawline, or a host of ill-fitting clothing relaying an ill-fitting persona. The thread between them is a molding of reality to match the mind's life, the one that the subjects are living happily ever after. The photos themselves are saturated with sunshine, and glisten with brightness. The shots of older women, in their outfits and with their smiles, are most intriguing. Age is such a taboo in our culture, that we associate it with demented minds and feeble bodies, rather than a mark of life well lived and well spent. Grannan's photos raise that point without any pointedness, just great sitters and a stucco wall.

Last Call: Kate Gilmore at the 2010 Whitney Biennial

Double Dutch, 2004. A piece in which Gilmore jumped rope on a perforated platform in stilettos.

This weekend is beautiful. It's crisp, it's sunny, it's three days long, and BBQ's are smokin' everywhere. I know that, but if you haven't seen Kate Gilmore's piece in the 2010 Biennial, I want you to ignore everything I just mentioned and get your ass to The Whitney before the exhibit dismantles and disappears. Go inside for a while (you can eat burgers later) and sit with Ms. Gilmore's projected image as it struggles, bashes, and bangs it's way to the top of a four walled column while decked in a red polka-dot dress in Standing Here, 2010. It's a great piece, one that reignited my interest in this endurance artist who sets herself to tough tasks for the sake of getting through them and leaving a record. In fact, the piece--and especially it's interesting choice of wardrobe--prompted me to get in touch with Ms. Gilmore and find out more about the role of clothing in her work. In an email conversation a little while back she graciously answered my sartorial questions:

With Open Arms, 2005. Gilmore dons a special something for a torrent of tomatoes.

I want to wear it. (IWTWI): I had an inkling when I saw Standing Here, 2010 at the Biennial that the red dress you wore was quite planned and intentional. However, I was still surprised to catch a video of you on the Whitney site showing a Christmas-time Loehmann's shopping trip with paint swatches in hand. How important is what you wear to your work? Are the decisions made for aesthetic purposes, or are your clothing choices about communicating ideas?

Kate Gilmore (KG): I think it is a combination. It is very important that there is a female character carrying out these actions (thus, the clothing), but the type and colors of the dresses and shoes are really aesthetic and formal decisions.

IWTWI: Do you choose the clothing you are going to wear as you are initially creating a piece? Or, is that a decision made later in your process?

KG: Definitely later. I think about the sculpture first and then i figure out what outfit would either go best or contrast, both in terms of the aesthetic quality of the dress and in the type of person it might convey.

IWTWI: Considering the physicality of your work, do you make any clothing choices for your performances based on safety or protection?

KG: Well, the shoes can actually help me with the activity. I can hook a heel, bash a wall with it, etc. So, for the piece at the Whitney, I knew I needed a heavy, strong high heel. I made a bit of a mistake with the dress at the Whitney because it was too long--I had to keep pulling it up to get my legs up to kick and climb. So, the things I wear can be tools and hindrances.

IWTWI: Do you keep the clothes from your pieces as artifacts of the work?

KG: Yes! Sometimes I like them so much that if they aren't ruined, I will still wear them.

IWTWI: Have you sustained any injuries from your work? It looks so brutal in some cases.

KG: Luckily not. The pieces are made so that I can be successful in my endeavors. They are built around my body and my capabilities. That said, sometimes I think I am stronger or more agile than I am and I have to adapt on the spot.

IWTWI: Do you follow fashion at all? Have any favorite designers or style icons?

KG: I really don't follow fashion that much. However, I do follow people who follow fashion. For instance a character like Leigh Bowery is someone I have looked to both as an individual who dealt with fashion in an interesting way, but also someone who took it to an extreme where it became something more than just clothing.

IWTWI: High heels: Sexy accessory or sharp weapon?

KG: Both...

Standing Still, 2010. Kate's smashing feat now showing at the Whitney Biennial 2010.

Thank you so much to Kate Gilmore for taking the time to answer these questions, and even more for her work which is inspiring.

All images from www.kategilmore.com

Look, But Don't Take.

Artist Lauren Nassef is one of those poetically gifted artists who knows just how many lines to use in her work. Her drawings are detailed, but spare, but evocative. They've got personality, identity-- and for a scandalous time last year, they suffered identity theft.

An online "artist" took Lauren's drawings off the web and claimed them as her own. She sold the forged drawings and even won a major competition with them. The matter has since been resolved, but gave me pause. The internet makes a pretty easy game of cut-n-copy. It takes some seriously compromised integrity to steal someone's work on such a big level, but this case also shows just how simple it can be if one were so inclined. Caution artists, and warning fakers: Feast your eyes on Nassef's beautiful work, but don't get any plagiaristic ideas. Just enjoy the simple, gorgeous graphics. I love so many, so I'm posting many.

See, they make you covetous too, don't they? That's ok. You can get some through Lauren's site (where she posts a drawing a day!!) or through her Etsy shop.

All art © 2007-2010-infinity Lauren Nassef / laurennassef.com (see that?)

Truly Smashing.

Standing Here, 2010. Click for video.

My recent obsession with hitting things (see below for how I do this constructively) was sparked by a viewing of Ms. Kate Gilmore's work at the currently showing Whitney Biennial. The performance artist has this habit of putting herself in some seriously punishing predicaments that she has to smash, strain, and struggle her way out of. Her piece in the Biennial (a clip of it is linked above) knuckle punched and stole my heart. It features her demolition dance with a 12 foot high, four-walled column enclosing just enough empty space for her move around in. Once she crashes her way in, Kate kicks, punches, and elbows her way through the walls to the top of the structure. She does this in a pretty red polka-dot number with black dress shoes and a thin pair of leather gloves. Her ensemble does little to protect her from the torturous fight, and much to emphasize the hard hits she is give/taking. The piece is a phenomenal, in-your-face play of feminine anger, and Gilmore's oeuvre of clever ways to punish herself is stunning, or shall I say smashing.

Wallflower, 2006/2007, Video. Click for video.

From being pelted with tomatoes, to encasing her foot in a bucket of plaster, to having to claw her way out of a homemade, fenced-in dirt ditch. It's all so gruntingly gruff, and yet--and this is why it's more than just punishment to watch--she seems so normal, so lovely, so unassuming. Her girl next door demeanor makes you spend less time worrying about her sanity and more time rooting for her victory. When I saw the piece at the Biennial I saw female anger clear and present. The repetitive thud of her fist against drywall made me wince in sympathetic pain, but also made me jealous. She tore that mother up. I can't even tell you how refreshing it was to see a woman just go to it and get herself out. What a release, what a show of strength. And, Ms. Gilmore puts care into choosing her clothing.

The performance wouldn't be the same without her co-star, that red dress. She hikes it up every now and then so that she can kick holes in the walls, and maybe show you some leg. The glory cry of tough chicks everywhere: "You want this, boy? How about now...you still want it?" I want to be it.

Crumple. Crush. Cram.

Artist Stephen J. Shanabrook is making pretty things ugly. In a series of works he calls "Paper Surgery" he takes c-prints of magazine photos and fold/crush/presses them into Franken Images of mutational proportions. [via Goldenfiddle aka love of my internet life]

Everything can be pretty. Everything can be ugly.

Go Hardcore or Go Home.

The best part of Mark Leckey's "Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore," his trippy 1999 video art ode to the British clublands of yesterday? The clothes.



There's something charged about what people wear when they go out. It's the apotheosis of their identity; the thing they most want to say to everyone who sees them. It's the way they most want to look. Going out clothes are not work clothes, not school clothes, they aren't stay at home or run errand clothes, they are "This is me." clothes: This is me hot, ready, and at my self-defined best. This is me attracting you, this is me telling you something real about myself, or at least trying to. This is me in my dancing shoes. This is the best I've got. Check me out. But hurry--it will all look foolish, ancient, and undeniably out-of-touch before your hangover fades.

But, while fashion trends come and go, the energy of a night out--shaking your ass to a repetitive beat while some substance, or even plain adrenaline, courses through you in a high-ceilinged, crowd-stuffed, reverberating space--is easily one of the more lasting incentives to don your best outfit. It may be one of the more lasting reasons to make it through your life actually: To go out.

Stills from the film.

Leckey's video is made of found footage that looks like it was unearthed from some hazy, hallucinogenic, dream of how things used to be, and really puts a finer point on the ephemeral nature of fashion. Just the fact that I have to explain who Fiorucci is (only the most coveted designer brand of the late '70s/early '80s, only the inventor of designer denim, only the brand Madonna wanted most) speaks volumes about how short lived cool or hot or essential items are. People used to fork over paychecks for the stuff, and now most don't know what it is. Makes you wonder how silly your life will seem in retrospect, right? Actually, it will never seem silly to you. It will be deathly serious in its cool factor to you. It will be laughable to those who came along even a day past your prime. Your kids will laugh at you, that's for sure. Those are the breaks. Keep it moving people, just keep it moving. And while you're moving, why not do it to a beat? Cue the throbbing bass and the dancing masses.

You can see the full video and tons of other amazing works of video art at UbuWeb. Thanks to the best dressed coworker I have, and brilliant analyzer of film, Mr. Graig Uhlin of Mass Ornaments for the resource.

The Story of Donna K. And The Cutest Clay Dress Ever!

Donna K. I think she made that shirt.

My fabulously talented friend Donna K. just participated in an art/literary combo project that resulted in the creation of the cutest claymation dress ever. The project is called Single Sentence Animation and it's produced by the progressively hip literary journal Electric Literature, which publishes its issues in each and every way (via paper, Kindle, iPod, Tweet, etc.) effectively utilizing the Interwebs and new technology without bemoaning the state of the printed word. The Single Sentence project teams a writer with an animator and asks one to bring visual life to the other's work. Donna's piece is based on a sentence by Lydia Davis. It's about cows and it's equal parts cute and intriguing:



How wonderful are the cow thought bubbles? Randy and hungry, that's all that really matters, isn't it? Also, I'm not kidding when I say I want that clay dress. I love the stripes.

So, initially I was just going to show you Donna's piece above, but why stop there? The girl--ahem, woman--is full of talent. Her art is homespun and seriously handmade; from the stop motion projects she scripts, sculpts, scores, and films; to the paper pieces she puts together with old magazine photos and hand-set typeface. I'm such a fan of it all.

A selection of Donna's works on paper.

Donna is currently working on a project with her boyfriend/partner in crime Brent Green which involves a giant set that they've built by hand in the backyard of their barn in the woods in Pennsylvania. I can't wait to see the finished product. In fact, I can't wait to see the thing in progress. Donna keeps telling me amazing stories about their shooting adventures (like say, "There are ten little kids in the front yard fishing in holes we dug and stocked," or, "I'm on stilts!") and I keep threatening to show up on set. If only it weren't in The Middle of Nowhere, PA, then I'd be there all the time. Until I can make the trek, I have Donna's Flickr Stream to keep me company. Thank God for modern technology! Here are some Donna short film pieces, which all make me want wings:







She's good, right? The best part: She's sweet as pie.

All images are Donna's work and can be found on her Flickr Photostream.

Who Do You Look Like?

Artist Nikki S. Lee in her own clothes.

The thing about clothing is that it transforms you. Most people don't even realize how much what they wear says about them, but think about it: You are a walking identity billboard. Maybe you are in fact more complex than your jeans, t, and sneaks would convey, but no one passing you in the street would know that. You are read all the time. What you wear can classify your gender, class, music taste, occupation, subcultural affiliations, marital status, and more. Do you realize that? That your shoes say something about you? Yeah, again, most people don't. But Nikki S. Lee, the artist who hides herself in plain sight, does.

The hip-hop project.

The Skateboarders Project.


The Yuppie Project.


The Punk Project.


The Hispanic Project.




The Tourist Project.


The Seniors Project.


The Swingers Project.

Her process goes like this: She observes a subculture, taking note of everything from their outer appearances to their nuanced gestures and then she adopts them. She dons the clothing, hairstyle, makeup, and accessories (perhaps a poodle, perhaps a nosering) and lives among them for a number of months. While she's blending in, she asks a new friend of the group to take snapshots of her with a regular little point-and-shoot. The results are like a Where's Waldo of fine art. Nikki's own ethnic identity as a Korean-born American eventually gives her away among her new crowd, but only after close inspection. The woman is that good. Whether she's living with punks, yuppies, Mid-Western farmers, or countesses, her appropriation of the most subtle aspect of their dress goes beyond costume and approaches absolute authenticity. Her work elucidates exactly what fascinates me so much about clothing, about fashion. It isn't frivolous at all. Even when you say you don't care about style or fashion or clothes, when you hate to shop, you are still getting dressed. So, why that shirt? Why that color? That style? Why aren't you wearing a Black Flagg tee instead? Who taught you how to get dressed? What did they tell you? If you took that outfit off, and put it on the ground in front of me--what could I reconstruct about your life; about who you are? Probably more than you think.

You can peruse a selection of Nikki S. Lee's photographs at her gallery's website: www.tonkonow.com.