The two weeks following the opening of Reef Cycle have been almost as (if not more) busy than the two weeks leading up to the reception. On November 4th, there was a gallery talk featuring all of the artists exhibited at Angels Gate right now. This was a good first experience for me because while I have given presentations of my artwork, I haven't had a scheduled group conversation outside of grad school.
The discussion began around my material choice: cardboard tubes. Why had I chosen these instead of something like plastic bottles or straws? My answer was a simple one. There is not an island of discarded cardboard floating around in the ocean, while there is a huge, clear mass of plastic debris that slowly breaks down, leaching toxins into the water. Ultimately, the pieces of this project will either be regenerated into something new, or broken down and recycled. I didn't just want to talk ABOUT consumer culture in relation the the environment; I desired the process of this project to exhibit the same sensibilities I was referencing.
Next, I was asked about my relationship to time. There are many ways time is important to my process. First, there is is the time it takes to collect the materials, and for this project it was a six-month period. Then, there is the creation and installation time. Finally, there is the amount of time that a piece will exist before being regenerated or recycled. I view this time of existence as being equivalent to a lifespan; my art has a life and death cycle similar to all things found in nature. Permanence is not important here, which is counter to why many artists choose to create. While others use their artworks as a way to live on past their physical body, this is not currently my concern. Perhaps this will one day change, but I enjoy maintaining a casual, playful relationship with the work at the moment.
Next, I was asked about my relationship to time. There are many ways time is important to my process. First, there is is the time it takes to collect the materials, and for this project it was a six-month period. Then, there is the creation and installation time. Finally, there is the amount of time that a piece will exist before being regenerated or recycled. I view this time of existence as being equivalent to a lifespan; my art has a life and death cycle similar to all things found in nature. Permanence is not important here, which is counter to why many artists choose to create. While others use their artworks as a way to live on past their physical body, this is not currently my concern. Perhaps this will one day change, but I enjoy maintaining a casual, playful relationship with the work at the moment.
Image thanks to Marlene Picard
The annual Inglewood Open Studios also happened November 10-11th. I didn't know what to expect in terms of a turnout, especially since I'm perched on the top floor of the Beacon Arts Building. It was hard to get the masses to climb the stairs, even for the sake of seeing interesting art; however, I managed to lure some people with cookies and stickers.
Image thanks to Eric Minh Swenson
RSS Feed
