For this response, pick a single artwork that is mentioned in the readings or a passage from one of the manifestos or Marx's "The Fetishism of the Commodity" and write a sustained analysis of it. Start with description: how is the work depicting its subject? How is the prose shaping an idea? From your description, point to a central idea or tension and say why it is important.
Brancusi’s The Beginning of the World exhibits a visual play on reflection and contrast. The smooth bronze surface of the bronze “egg” is polished to the brightness and reflectivity of a mirror. The bronze egg is placed in the center of a circular metal disk, which results in the egg reflecting brightly on the disk and vice versa. The contrast that is created is between the bottom and the top of the egg, which deceivably looks like it has a flat contour because of the light hitting its top surface, whereas the underside of the egg looks full and round due to the dark shadow it casts. The subject here is the egg and through the work one can see that it the form and placement of the egg was strategically planned by Brancusi.
R. Krauss introduces the idea behind Brancusi’s work; that “it is a call for us to acknowledge the specific way in which matter inserts itself into the world”(407). Krauss supports this idea by giving a detailed description of the work and comparing it to certain metaphorical examples. He links the contrasted geometry of The Beginning of the World to the “feeling of the back of one’s head, resting heavily on a pillow, while the face floats, weightless and unencumbered, toward sleep”(407). Krauss is comparing the physical appearance of the work to human experience. The reader of this paper can then connect the flat contour of the egg and the dark rounded curve that the eye sees to the feeling of heavy head and weightless face on top of a pillow. This description almost transforms the way the viewer sees the sculpture.
The first time I looked at the work, I saw it as an egg on top of a disk. After Krauss pointed out the different shadows casted on and by the egg, and the rounded contour created by the light, I began to see the sculpture as more than an egg. It suddenly had components and I began to notice its placement. Suddenly, the egg seemed to carry a huge weight. I noticed how the uninterrupted darkness of the shadow on the bottom of the egg seemed to enhance an appearance of great burden and heaviness on the disk. In addition, Krauss’ metaphor of the egg being like a human head connected it to the sensation of sleep. I imagined the feeling of a heavy head sinking into a pillow, its face with an expression of relief.
Krauss’ tactic of drawing a metaphor by which the viewer can relate to the sculpture is very effective. I found it interesting that he could draw a correlation between this egg, which is so simple and ordinary, to such a detailed feeling just based off of the way light plays across the surface of the egg. Krauss moves the viewer away from the idea of what does the egg mean and what relationship does it have to the disk beneath it; he instead invites the viewer to analyze its form and orientation.
Krauss’ article about Duchamp and his development into Modern art presents what has been lost in art today. Modern art is not so much obsessed with art, but rather with producing art in a new way that’s never been done before. While it may sound great on paper, in practice its largely abused and the meaning has become meaningless. By putting all the focus on how art is produced, the meaning behind the art and even the process loses its significance. We are simply told how the artist made it and think “Oh that’s interesting” or “Oh I don’t really care” and we move on to the next artwork to find out how that artists decided to encounter art in a new way. Pablo Picasso was the last artist to have successfully not passed the threshold of the process of producing versus the process of art. Jackson Pollock tiptoes along the lines, making it hard to differentiate between these two concepts. Yet, in the end whenever anyone talks about Pollock it is about how he approached art in a new way with a new technique and was the first person to ever do it that way. And therein lies the problem: it’s always about being the first person to do it that way. It’s lost the meaning of a certain technique and seeing where it leads. Picasso and Braque worked with cubism for decades and never left what they were trying to get at. In this era we have thousands of artists doing hundreds of different techniques trying to be noticed by the artistic community. It’s as if art has lost sight of what it is.
Brancusi’s Bird in Space is a highly polished bronze sculpture that depicts the simple motion of flight despite the absence of the body or wings of a bird. Tall and thin, the sculpture begins at a very sharp point at the top, swelling asymmetrically in the middle, tapering towards the bottom, then expanding to a base set in concrete. The burnished bronze appears gold in color and the reflections seen in the bronze change as the sculpture expands and contracts. Brancusi did not create a literal likeness of a bird in space, but the sculpture’s shape gives the viewer the unmistakable sense of flight and movement. This sense is conveyed in the asymmetrical swell of the bronze that looks like a feather. Because of its thin, smooth shape, the viewer can choose to see either a feather or the wing of a propeller, both of which suggest flight and motion. Brancusi creates a dual nature within the sculpture by choosing to polish the bronze so thoroughly. This polishing makes the sculpture look industrial, the opposite of the natural, organic flight to which birds take. The sculpture’s upright orientation also contributes to the sense of movement and the industrial element of the work. If the piece were laid on its side, none of the lightness or airiness would be conveyed, and the allusion to a propeller wing would not be as obvious. Brancusi’s work points to the tension between nature and technology. It does not serve as a critique, rather it highlights the difference between flight as it occurs in birds and how man has created means to fly, despite not being built for it. As an abstract, highly polished shape, Bird in Space presents the dichotomy between industrialization and the nature destroyed by the expansion of civilization.
Constantin Brancusi’s sculpture The Beginning of the World, caught my eye immediately because at first glance the bronze, polished, egg-like oblong sphere mounted atop a shined disk and yet again atop a pedestal looked extremely simple and yet on greater inspection it created a larger, grander image and illusion. Upon first inspection one’s sight goes directly to the sphere on top that is polished to a perfect shine and yet stretched to the right, and as Krauss describes it, giving it the appearance of almost being an egg. However it is slightly too pointed to be an egg, too elongated, and another deformity is the fact that the bottom right is more horizontal, while the top portion of the point is slanted. In a real egg these two sides of the pointed end would be symmetrical. The “egg” as Krauss describes it (p407) sits atop a reflective circle that is apparently made out of metal. The edges of the circular plate extend roughly twice as far as the ends of the egg from the center, allowing for there to be an area of reflection of the egg on the plane, as well as a large amount of surface area to reflect the ceiling and light in the room, which in this case appears plain. Working one’s way down the sculpture, we are next met with a pedestal that also appears to be made out of metal but this time however, it is not symmetrical, nor is it smooth. Instead it appears to have notches or chinks taken out of it, at least on the right side, and the left side fails to mirror it in its direct descent to the floor. The left side alternatively extends vertically downward for a few inches and then makes a slight cut inward to the right, and again becoming vertical. It then protrudes straight back out to then turn towards the floor. However, what makes this work of art noteworthy are not the simple details of the figures themselves but rather what is seen in them and the shadows that they cast. Looking closer at the egg on the circular, reflective disk, we can see a distorted, reproduced image of what is happening behind the point of view of the camera, as well as an image of the disk. The egg becomes more interesting, more complicated, and thus speaks to the viewer more. The shadow and reflection that the egg casts on the reflective disk is also notable in that it develops a contrast, a stark difference between the two objects as well as within the disk. At the edges it is light and almost white with light, and towards the center where it contacts the egg at a point, it becomes dark and reflects both the light and dark areas of the underside of the egg. Depending on the lighting, number of people surrounding the work, and time of day, the sculpture changes in appearance and thus instills in the viewer a different image and meaning. And this is what seemed to be the case in modern art at this time, or at least in the sculptures that Krauss discusses. Just as the urinal that Duchamp turned ninety degrees to give it a different image, The Beginning of the World can be seen in numerous ways. Some may see it simply as an oblong, reflective object atop a reflective disk on a pedestal while others may see the reflections and what is within them and thus see and comprehend a deeper, more connected meaning of the sculpture, for example, maybe it means that they, the viewer, are the beginning of the world. How I understand it, it really is up to interpretation.
I was really amused by Marcel Duchamp’s attempted entry of a toilet as a piece of art by way of his ‘Fountain.’ I’ve actually seen a replica of this “sculpture” exhibited in SFMoMA and it was one of the most memorable things from my visit to the museum. This piece was what Duchamp called one of his ‘Readymades,’ meaning “works calculated to reveal, among their other effects, the workings of art institution as inseparable from the attribution of artistic value.” (427) I take this to mean that by putting such a thing as a toilet up on display as art, Duchamp is critiquing how we place value on artwork. He is commenting on the fact that we as observers give objects/artwork the value that we think they should have, but that may not always be an accurate estimate. An article was published in 1917 that was most likely written by Duchamp stating: “Whether Mr. Mutt with his own hands made the fountain or not has no importance. He CHOSE it. He took an ordinary article of life, placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view – created a new thought for that object.” (427) This description saying that manual labor on the part of the artist has no impact on the value of the object is in direct contradiction to the viewpoint of Karl Marx in his essay Capital: “the quantitative determination of value, namely the duration of that expenditure or the quantity of labour…In all situations, the labour-time it costs to produce the means of subsistence must necessarily concern mankind.” (420) Marx is saying that value is determined by labor time put into something, so in the case of Duchamp’s Fountain Marx would probably place little to no value on it as art, since the artist in this case took something made by someone else, he didn’t invest any time in creating it himself.
However, I believe that Duchamp’s entry should deserve to be called art as much as anything else going by that title. Duchamp took an everyday object, repositioned it and gave it a new name. In this way he is creating something new out of something already well-known, much as other artists paint portraits of real people and objects in the world around them. Although I believe labor-time is definitely a factor in assigning value, the pure inventiveness of Duchamp’s idea, as well as the humor inherent in it, can add value to this notorious piece of art-work as much as perfectly placed brushstrokes can add value to a still-life painting.
Brancusi's The Newborn is the third sculpture of a four-part series, which he took eighteen years to complete. The Newborn is a simple piece in regards to its shape. It is almost a complete egg-shape with the exception of an indenture. This dip mimics an open mouth of a crying baby, down turned and progressively gets deeper a the "back" of the mouth. The sculpture is polishd in bronze, although it is probably wood or marble underneath. The bronze is so shiny that it reflects any light that lands on it.
The simplicity of The Newborn's shape supports Brancusi's ideology that artwork needs not to reflect what an object, in this case a crying baby's head, truly looks like. The purpose of Brancusi's artwork is to help viewers break from the conventional way of thinking that we "need to find meaning" (79) in artwork. Brancusi uses basic shapes with little deformation to show how reduced artwork can become. The series traces Brancusi's abandonment of complex details. Torment is a boy; The Prometheus is a recognizable head; The Newborn is an oval-esque shape (it is less recognizable as a head than The Prometheus); and The Beginning of the World is an oval-esque shape sitting on a disk. This deteriorating complexity helps the viewer gradually disregard their notion that artwork must have an interpretive, transparent meaning.
Why does Brancusi work hard and patiently with each object, polishing the bronze to perfection? This is to erase all traces of the artist's touch or influence. Reminances of the artists will make viewers to try to interpret the artwork as the artist intended. Brancusi has no intention for interpretation though. It is simply what it is.
In many art history books I have seen Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain and wondered why and how anyone could call this art. I had passed it off as crude and about as far from art as one could get. After reading Krauss’ analysis of the piece, as well as his bit on the history of the transformation of the art that Duchamp created and how it has become more “art of selection” than art of creation, I have a new appreciation for the piece.
I am not saying that I particularly like the piece, but I am seeing how it has become art and not merely a turned urinal. The thing that struck me the most was how Krauss said that “the work was no longer a common object, because it had been transposed.” That is to say, that in Duchamp’s eyes, because he had chosen this urinal, and had put it in this particular way, it had become art. Krauss argues that the work is art because it is presented differently than other urinals and I agree. Because this urinal in most eyes is seen as something unsightly, or even inappropriate for public viewing, it makes it art. I would contend that it is similar to the impressionist display of nudes. Many believed them to be unsightly and inappropriate, but in the eyes of the artist, the tableaux were tasteful representations of something natural. Duchamp hadn’t take something natural for his work, but he took something natural, urination, and made it public for all to see. That validates the claim for it to be art.
Krauss explains how Duchamp had been going through and creating homophonic texts, along the lines of Roussel, a pundit who took text and changed the words to sound similar, but mean something else. This, in my opinion, must have been the impetus that made him apply this sort of alterations to normal household objects, namely a urinal, and change it to make it something else. Krauss goes on to tell of how Duchamp had an alter ego “Rrose Selavy” which as Krauss explains, is the homophonic form of a sexual reference. This is shown in the Fountain in how the object echoes the form of a female, and how the curves seem to show the female curves.
Another thing that struck me was that this piece brought up many questions as to what constitutes art. Krauss discusses this in detail and comes to the conclusion that it is up to the artist to determine what makes art. This may seem to be irrational and gives to much freedom to the artist, but it is the spirit of the artist that makes art what it is. To constrict art to being naturalistic representations of landscape etc. would be a crime in my opinion. Though the masses may not like the piece, and may question whether this thing may or may not be considered art, we have to know that in a work like Fountain that was the artist’s intention.
I think in a fitting close to the discussion of Fountain, Krauss asks some questions that convict the people who contend it to not be art. “what is the expectation we carry to works of art? Why do we think [they]...must convey or embody a certain message? And finally: Are we justified...in believing the content to be connected to the producer of the object? These questions can always be asked when one looks at a piece that one might think of not being art. One must remember that art is in the eye of the beholder, and that every art piece had a purpose. Though that purpose may not be something one agrees with, one has to respect the art and the artist. I think Fountain is a perfect example of this.
In Karl Marx’s “The Fetishism of the Commodity and Its Secret”, Marx discusses how a resource can become highly demanded so quickly. He begins by pointing out how a commodity, “as the product of human labor” (163), merely serves to “satisf[y] human needs” (163). After all, humans do create objects to help make processes shorter or more efficient. It is amazing to see how a resource can be transformed into an object “abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties” (163) simply by altering the resource’s shape; such a transformation only proves that every aspect of a work of art is vital to how it is perceived. For example, wood is just wood, and if altered into the form of a table, is still wood, but while an ordinary object, becomes much more sensuous than it was before when it was just a block of wood (163). The table therefore “emerges as a commodity”, for people will pay to buy wood in the form of a table. In a sense, these commodities are art.
Marx then goes on to discuss the how the “mystical character of the commodity does not arise from its use-value” (164), but rather from human efforts to transform a resource into a commodity. According to a psychological theory, when people put effort into something, people tend to become attached to their work, since so much time has been invested into it. Thus, people see that “the mysterious character of the commodity-form consists simply in the fact that the commodity reflects the social characteristics of men’s own labour as objective characteristics of the products of labour themselves, as the socio-natural properties of these things” (164). Also, as men begin to work together to create these sensuous commodities out of natural resources, their interaction and labour soon become a social form. Through these transformations of natural resources into commodities and commodity exchange between individuals, these “products of labour acquire a socially uniform objectivity as values, which is distinct from their sensuously varied objectivity as articles of utility” (166), as people begin to deem some commodities as trends or necessary (but is actually conspicuous, as coined by Norwegian-American sociologist Thorstein Veblen) consumption.
Humans’ love for commodities can easily be traced to their involvement in creating the commodities; such fetishism for commodities is key because the same process works for any artwork – if one creates a work, one will definitely love one’s own work because one created it.
I found Duchamp's Fountain interesting. It was a urinal that Duchamp rotated ninety degrees so the side normally connected to the wall was no on the base of the sculpture. He then signed it under the pseudonym Mutt. The actual urinal did not pique my interest that much. It looks exactly like an old style urinal sitting on its back. I did, however, find this sculpture cohesive with some of his writing. Krauss says that “Duchamp had begun to produce as”works” elaborate word-plays in which sentences were constructed by the repetition and inversion of a small group of phonemes”. This idea had been taken from Roussel, who would use the same sentence for the opening and the closing. The two sentences would appear nearly identical, however he would transpose one letter. An example of this are his two sentences “la peau verdatre de la prune un peu mure” [the greenish skin of the ripening plum] and “la peau verdatre de la brune un peu mure” [the greenish skin of the aging brunette]. The two sentences have similar compositions, but have completely different meanings. With his Fountain, I believe that Duchamp was trying to produce the same type of effect. By inverting the urinal, it was still (nearly) the same object. Its function has changed dramatically though. Krauss also says “it had been repositioned, and this physical repositioning stood for a transformation that must then be read on a metaphysical level. Folded into that act of inversion is a moment in which the viewer has to realize that an act of transfer has occured- an act in which the object has been transplanted from the ordinary world into the realm of art”. As corny as “the realm of art” sounds, there is a huge difference between a useful object and a piece of art. One small change completely altered its function, which I think is a huge point that Duchamp wanted to get across.
Freud also talks about this substitution which occurs when one thing is changed into another. He begins his discourse with a diverse list of gold conversions. So what? He even says “A commodity appears at first sight an extremely obvious, trivial thing. But its analysis brings out that there is a very strange thing, abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties.” What he is referring to is the value of human labor. “It is absolutely clear that, by his activity, man changes the forms of the materials of nature in such a way as to make them useful to him”. Regarding the Fountain, Duchamp did the exact opposite. He took the useful object, changed it by rotating it, which rendered it useless. He reverted the object, which previously had utility to something with close to none.
Marcel Duchamp’s Bottle Rack forces the viewer to question what defines the boundary between art and everyday objects. The “sculpture” consists of a bottle rack from the era, upon which Duchamp added his signature, thereby “creating” a work of art. In this act, Duchamp questioned inherent notions of art as a wholly created substance of the artist himself. The bottle rack itself was a simple composition: it consisted of 6 layers of centralized rings, with larger rings on the bottom of the rack. Around these rings hooks spread outward, spaced evenly. The entire composition was made of galvanized iron, rendering it quite plain—a monotonous silver color covered the entire work. The hooks, springing outward, create a harmony through their dictatorially patterned arrangement. The evenly spaced rings further this sensation of pattern and harmony. As a result of the vertical supports interacting with the rings, the structure as a whole appears quite biological by nature. It structurally resembles an anemone, seemingly springing up from the ground reaching upwards with the many hooks. Despite this, the sculpture as a whole is quite plain and stagnant. Duchamp did not choose this bottle rack for its beauty, or even specific social purpose. He selected it merely to further his opinions of art and how one man, with one inscription, can turn an everyday mundane object into a masterpiece quintessential to modern museum displays.
Marcel Duchamp is best known for his artwork, “Fountain.” This repositioned urinal raised questions of what can be considered art. How could such a commercial everyday object be categorized under the same context as an oil painting by Claude Monet? If set in a line of hundreds of urinals, “Fountain” would almost perfectly blend in if not for two minor characteristics; its 90 degree positioning and the sign of authorship placed on the lower left corner. The name “R. Mutt” marks the barrier between this urinal and the rest. By signing a name on this manufactured object, Duchamp helps transform this commercial item into a piece of art which raises questions and speculation of what is it that creates a work of art.
The “Fountain,” like all other urinals is glossy, shiny, white, and curvy. Unlike other urinals, however, is its positioning and the words “R. Mutt.” By aligning the urinal in an unordinary manner, Duchamp is claiming an authenticity on this specific urinal. It no longer blends in with the rest of these objects, instead it stands out. By having one different aspect, Duchamp is able to transcend his artwork from the real of basic items to a “realm of art” (Krauss 77). What does this transformation mean? By evolving from an everyday object, the urinal allowed for the questioning to be recognized as a form of artwork. As explained by Krauss in “Forms of Readymade: Duchamp and Brancusi,” the readymades suggest, “that a work might not be a physical object but rather a question, and that the making, of art might, therefore, be recognized as taking a perfectly legitimate form in the speculative act of posing questions (Krauss 73).” The “Fountain’s” leap into the realm of artwork provokes questions and thoughts. These thoughts in the opinions of artists like Duchamp are actually works of art.
The questions and thoughts raised by the presentation of the “Fountain” confront a whole new approach to artwork. The speculation of such a common commodity creates space for metaphorical approaches. Because the artwork is so neglected and untouched by Duchamp, the viewer assumes metaphorical symbols or representations. As mentioned by Krauss, some viewers viewed the porcelain curves as metaphor for a female figure (Krauss 79). Unlike artwork by Pablo Picasso or Titian, “Fountain’s” metaphor is created by the viewer rather than by the artist. The question of what art can consist of is challenged by the presentation of this urinal.
Duchamp’s slight manipulation of a urinal evokes a viewer’s curiosity as he/she attempts to determine if the “Fountain” is art. According to Krauss and Duchamp, this process of speculating is another form of artwork that had never previously been tapped into. The signature and positioning of the urinal enables the article to glide into the “realm of art,” and this transformation leads to the formation of art as a speculation.
The first thing that caught my attention was the statement: “images that we recognize as the basis of the experience we identify as art” (399). In this way, I soon enjoyed reading about the transformations of everyday objects into readymade art. The concept of slightly altering a typical object in order to declare it as art is intriguing to me in that paintings pretty are pretty much the same thing. People declare that paintings are capable of expressing and artist’s feelings and emotions through the brush strokes and the way in which the art is created, but I find readymade art quite remarkable as well. I see a vast similarity in painting and in readymade art in that they each stand as a still image with the hopes of emitting a message to the viewer. I am intrigued by the readymade art because it serves as a tangible, three-dimensional figure. Sure—traditional art connects in a psychological sense by bringing the viewer and creator together (402), nevertheless, readymade art has the ability to portray various messages as the object is in different orientations. For instance, the transformation of the urinal depicts a woman and her curves. I have ultimately come to realize that art is a personal invention of meaning in relation to the intended message of the artist.
The reading depicts Duchamp’s painting of the Glider on glass with hopes of portraying a transparent, illusionistic perspective (405). This image of a water mill is painted on and sandwiched between two pieces to glass in order for it to appear as though it is floating in space. The prose further shapes the idea of the floating glass image by declaring that the image forces its viewer to focus on the strangeness, rather that its beauty, as an act of bringing the image to life. In my opinion, the central idea of this piece of artwork is the three-dimensional illusion it emits. I think this is an important point because traditional art uses lines and shading to depict depth, whereas this piece uses two pieces of readymade art to represent the same thing.
I found it quite difficult to understand Gill Perry’s paper about “Forms of Readymade: Duchamp and Brancusi because the artworks described were sculptures that I have never been exposed to before. Marcel Duchamp’s sculpture was particularly intriguing to me because they were simply commercial objects, that are found everywhere, but were somehow claimed to be art after Duchamp’s signature were written on it. It made me worry about the direction that modern art is going because the artistic images are much more randomized and seemingly has no meaning or artistic talent, compared to past art.
Like we have spoken in class, the uniqueness of modern art is each artist’s way of interpreting what is considered art and how art is made. This point is made especially clear in Perry’s reading when she introduces the gala, Impressions of Africa, based on a story by Raymond Roussel, that tried to make fun of the Impressionist art and other modern art forms like Cubism which focus on the production of art and how it can be used to generate different impressions or sensations of a single scenery. In the gala, various machines were presented that can mimic an artist or musician’s work by using scientific mechanism. For example, there was a painting machine that could paint a landscape exactly as it is by using photosensitive plates. These machines undermine the talents of artists and remove the “psychological and emotional structure of the person who initiates the art” (399). Because of the point made by this gala, artists like Duchamp and Brancusi tried to use readymade objects and oddly shaped bronze sculpture to raise questions about what can be classified as art, since these machines have so proven that they too can create art based on natural sensations like reflections of light. Duchamp’s readymade pieces’ spatial arrangements were modified in order to give the object forms or lines (that you don’t recognize at first) into which a meaning can be conveyed. A good instance of this is the Fountain which is actually a urinal that is shown in a “birds-eye-view” perspective. The urinal is then transformed into something that resembles a uterus or the female’s curves.
Brancusi’s art was different from Duchamp’s because he manually reformed organic substances into a sculptures that were then cast with bronze. I found the transition from Torment to the Prometheus to The Newborn was extremely interesting because the subjects are apparently reproductions or reinterpretations of the previous sculpture, that are created by remolding the surfaces of the sculpture. And each time the surface was contorted, a new sensation or meaning is created. I felt that in the progression from Torment to The Newborn, the surfaces of the sculpture became smoother and more simplified. All of the sculptures convey a form of troubled sensation. In Torment, the child looks like there is something bothering him to the point that he looks like he is crying. In the Prometheus, the head looks unbalanced with the appearance of almost toppling over. As if there is a struggle for balance of the mind. Perry analyzed the sculpture to be showing a mind that is caught “between two states of being” (410). Lastly, The Newborn, is similar to Prometheus, except that now there is no apparent nose but a large crying mouth is seemingly present along with a lash gash in the middle of the head. To me it looked like someone who is having a hard time making up their mind and is expressing their frustration through their cry. I don’t know if these components of the two last sculptures by Brancusi were intended to be there but I think that by recreating the surfaces of the simple eggs can add such personality to his modern sculptures.
As modernism progressed, boundaries were pushed further and further. Inevitably the question had to be asked: what makes “art” art? It seems Marcel Duchamp made a career through repeatedly posing this question with his “readymades”. The pinnacle and ultimate embodiment of this question is certainly his ‘Fountain’. Although he clearly explains his artistic process, the value of his work is in the hands of the audience. In this sense, Duchamp asks, “is this art?” and the public provides the answer. This should evoke the gradual process of clarification by way of concrete definition for the abstract categorization. However, this would necessitate a universal definition everyone could agree on, and this is an impossibility. Looking up the word “art” in the dictionary gives a vague list of what art is, and most things can conceivably fit this list. An interesting way of viewing the abstract term is to set questions in a binary fashion. For example, the first question raised in Krauss’s text was: does there have to be a connection between the finished product and the creator? I say binary for two reasons. The first is because a concrete definition should fit such a model. Secondly, the application of a binary system demonstrates the impossibility of clear definition. There are agreements and disagreements, and most questions will undoubtedly be a shade of gray. In the spirit of questioning, I ask why define and categorize? What does that accomplish, and how is it restricting? Krauss’s article titled, “Forms of the Readymade: Duchamp and Brancusi”, sought to demonstrate a parallel between the two artists. At first glance, both artists are sculptors, yet their work is strikingly different. I found it difficult to draw a parallel between the artists, but there is a strong similarity between Duchamp’s ‘Fountain’ and Brancusi’s ‘Torso of a Young Man’ or better yet ‘Princess X’. Additionally, they both worked to reject the traditional narrative assigned to works of art. On the other hand, the aesthetics of their sculptures are much different. On the most part, Duchamp forges art from readymade products, while Brancusi specializes in highly polished bronze work. So, it seems that while they may implement different styles, they are ultimately posing the same questions. By interpreting Karl Marx’s article metaphorically, we gain a new perspective on the value assigned to art. He demonstrates that value is a function of the social implications of human labor as well as a commodities’ usefulness. Ultimately he states that “value is realized only in exchange.”(177) This concept then becomes slippery when applied to art. For one thing, art is paradoxically capable of evoking powerful mental or emotional states, yet simultaneously is not a requirement for life. Additionally, if the value of art is determined by the amount it sells for, then the opinions of those with money are in higher regard than those without money. So in a sense, Marx is attempting to answer the questions posed by Duchamp and Brancusi. However, I feel he still falls short, and instead shows that the concept of art cannot be assigned value like most commodities. The last articles regarding Dadaism, ironically come closest to defining art. Their complete lack of manifesto and free perspective essentially states “to each his own”. They state “Art is a private affair; the artist produces it for himself.”(255) Additionally, they oppose the value perspective of Marx by acknowledging the worth of art is not to be determined by the bourgeois. Their siding with Duchamp and Brancusi is made apparent, because they believe the value in art lies in the questions they are able to pose. In this sense artistic value has nothing to do with money as Marx would lead one to believe.
*** Prior to writing this response I didn't see the rubric posted on this site. My response doesn't exactly fit, but it is close. Please let me know if you would like me to do it again...
The last section of the Dada Manifesto 1918, titled "Dadaist Disgust," carries on the "rapid fire" characteristics of the previous sections. Using this linguistic momentum, Tzara not only projects the "motion" of Dada, but uses the flurry to drive the reader's emotion into an ecstatic state - which he or she is rendered unable to counter any logic. The first way to identify Tzara's use of form is in the progressively shortening and definitive statements: "Every product of disgust capable of becoming a negation of the family is Dada; a protest with the fists of its whole being engaged in destructive action:....Dada; abolition of the future..."(256) After the sentences shorten, Tzara breaks the momentum and puts in a larger sentence which he then builds up from again (top of page 257). The intensity is again heightened, but through longer sentences with many commas and adjectives and dashes - ending with: "LIFE." - a highly definitive statement. Repetition, in the sense of form, is the second component of Tzara's intensity and projection of "Dada commotion." At the bottom of page 256, Tzara repeats the word abolition: "abolition of memory: Dada; abolition of archaeology: Dada; abolition of prophets:...etc..."(256) Tzara projects power and force, the characteristics of a manifesto, through his use of repetition and definitive statements.
Aside form projecting his subject matter in form, Tzara focuses, or rather, distills it into one central thought: "LIFE" and the fact that it is "a roaring of tense colors, and interlacing of opposites and of all contradictions, grotesques, inconsistencies:..."(257) This line, the climax and the culmination of Dada reflects Dada in itself and clarifies what may have been thought to be contradictory earlier on (ideas that denounced doctrines - like manifestos). He recognizes the inherent contradiction in writing a Dada manifesto, yet at the same time, embraces the contradiction because it is an innate human quality and experience - unavoidable. It takes the idea of "Know thyself," which as explained earlier is not a completely ridiculous statement because it embraces wickedness along side good-heartedness(253). And so, this last statement stands most important because the entire manifesto seemed to be a contradiction for the reasons that Tzara what pointing out were inherently contradicted the minute he wrote them into a manifesto. By embracing contradiction and chaos as parts just as valuable to the human experience and rendering in art and machinery, Tzara is asking the reader to embrace industrialization, motion, goodness, evil, and all other juxtapositions and contradictions - a full experience, uncut. His rhetoric furthers this culmination. His use of denial, defninitives and contradiction alone embodies the concept of Dada. Further, it still adheres to a manifesto-esque style, but without a clear set of rules - no numbers like the futurists. Rather, he hammers out one point, and that is to experience life in all of its aspects - a continually changing, contradicting, violent experience. Beauty, in a sense is a facade in these terms - they seem to culminate into a beauty, but they are really just parts and the whole, can be whatever term one wants. It follows a trail of complete subjectivity to the individual's experience.
Constantin Brancusi is best known for his ability to take everyday geometric shapes and transforms them just slight enough to create something of his own. One such sculpture is the Torso of a Young Man. The Torso of a Young Man consists of a large elongated cylinder situated between two short cylinders tilted at about forty-five degree angles. The long cylinder represents the torso while the short angled cylinders symbolize stubby legs. The way the stubby legs fit into the torso at the bottom of the sculpture creates a triangular shape that resembles a crotch, with the legs emerging from hips. In the wood version of this sculpture, Brancusi utilized a piece of wood forked with its own branches to create the torso, exploiting the natural properties of this wood to create a more natural shape and look to the work. However, just as ready as he is to exploit the natural, he also act in “violation of the apparent properties of his physical medium” (100). His second version is done in polished bronze, with the attention on how the legs and body connected focused on the mechanical means instead of the natural. In the polished bronze version, the joints between the legs and torso fit like pipes, morphing the project from the natural, almost biological, feel of a boy’s torso into an industrial work of art. This change from the natural to the mechanical in this sculpture exemplifies Brancusi’s rejection of the “technologically based role of analysis in sculpture” (103). He takes simple geometric shapes to create this symmetrical sculpture of highly polished bronze that leaves little room for analysis of the form. Thus, he rejects the historical or psychological narrative that those of the scientific mind tend to inject into a sculpture. He also polishes the bronze until no evidence of his hand in the work exists, further emphasizing the machine-made quality of the sculpture and his refusal to be analyzed through his works.
For this response, pick a single artwork that is mentioned in the readings or a passage from one of the manifestos or Marx's "The Fetishism of the Commodity" and write a sustained analysis of it. Start with description: how is the work depicting its subject? How is the prose shaping an idea? From your description, point to a central idea or tension and say why it is important.
ReplyDeleteKelly Sun
ReplyDeleteResponse 6
February 8, 2009
Brancusi’s The Beginning of the World exhibits a visual play on reflection and contrast. The smooth bronze surface of the bronze “egg” is polished to the brightness and reflectivity of a mirror. The bronze egg is placed in the center of a circular metal disk, which results in the egg reflecting brightly on the disk and vice versa. The contrast that is created is between the bottom and the top of the egg, which deceivably looks like it has a flat contour because of the light hitting its top surface, whereas the underside of the egg looks full and round due to the dark shadow it casts. The subject here is the egg and through the work one can see that it the form and placement of the egg was strategically planned by Brancusi.
R. Krauss introduces the idea behind Brancusi’s work; that “it is a call for us to acknowledge the specific way in which matter inserts itself into the world”(407). Krauss supports this idea by giving a detailed description of the work and comparing it to certain metaphorical examples. He links the contrasted geometry of The Beginning of the World to the “feeling of the back of one’s head, resting heavily on a pillow, while the face floats, weightless and unencumbered, toward sleep”(407). Krauss is comparing the physical appearance of the work to human experience. The reader of this paper can then connect the flat contour of the egg and the dark rounded curve that the eye sees to the feeling of heavy head and weightless face on top of a pillow. This description almost transforms the way the viewer sees the sculpture.
The first time I looked at the work, I saw it as an egg on top of a disk. After Krauss pointed out the different shadows casted on and by the egg, and the rounded contour created by the light, I began to see the sculpture as more than an egg. It suddenly had components and I began to notice its placement. Suddenly, the egg seemed to carry a huge weight. I noticed how the uninterrupted darkness of the shadow on the bottom of the egg seemed to enhance an appearance of great burden and heaviness on the disk. In addition, Krauss’ metaphor of the egg being like a human head connected it to the sensation of sleep. I imagined the feeling of a heavy head sinking into a pillow, its face with an expression of relief.
Krauss’ tactic of drawing a metaphor by which the viewer can relate to the sculpture is very effective. I found it interesting that he could draw a correlation between this egg, which is so simple and ordinary, to such a detailed feeling just based off of the way light plays across the surface of the egg. Krauss moves the viewer away from the idea of what does the egg mean and what relationship does it have to the disk beneath it; he instead invites the viewer to analyze its form and orientation.
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ReplyDeleteKrauss’ article about Duchamp and his development into Modern art presents what has been lost in art today. Modern art is not so much obsessed with art, but rather with producing art in a new way that’s never been done before. While it may sound great on paper, in practice its largely abused and the meaning has become meaningless.
ReplyDeleteBy putting all the focus on how art is produced, the meaning behind the art and even the process loses its significance. We are simply told how the artist made it and think “Oh that’s interesting” or “Oh I don’t really care” and we move on to the next artwork to find out how that artists decided to encounter art in a new way. Pablo Picasso was the last artist to have successfully not passed the threshold of the process of producing versus the process of art. Jackson Pollock tiptoes along the lines, making it hard to differentiate between these two concepts. Yet, in the end whenever anyone talks about Pollock it is about how he approached art in a new way with a new technique and was the first person to ever do it that way.
And therein lies the problem: it’s always about being the first person to do it that way. It’s lost the meaning of a certain technique and seeing where it leads. Picasso and Braque worked with cubism for decades and never left what they were trying to get at. In this era we have thousands of artists doing hundreds of different techniques trying to be noticed by the artistic community. It’s as if art has lost sight of what it is.
Julia Herron
ReplyDeleteResponse Paper #6
Brancusi’s Bird in Space is a highly polished bronze sculpture that depicts the simple motion of flight despite the absence of the body or wings of a bird. Tall and thin, the sculpture begins at a very sharp point at the top, swelling asymmetrically in the middle, tapering towards the bottom, then expanding to a base set in concrete. The burnished bronze appears gold in color and the reflections seen in the bronze change as the sculpture expands and contracts.
Brancusi did not create a literal likeness of a bird in space, but the sculpture’s shape gives the viewer the unmistakable sense of flight and movement. This sense is conveyed in the asymmetrical swell of the bronze that looks like a feather. Because of its thin, smooth shape, the viewer can choose to see either a feather or the wing of a propeller, both of which suggest flight and motion. Brancusi creates a dual nature within the sculpture by choosing to polish the bronze so thoroughly. This polishing makes the sculpture look industrial, the opposite of the natural, organic flight to which birds take. The sculpture’s upright orientation also contributes to the sense of movement and the industrial element of the work. If the piece were laid on its side, none of the lightness or airiness would be conveyed, and the allusion to a propeller wing would not be as obvious.
Brancusi’s work points to the tension between nature and technology. It does not serve as a critique, rather it highlights the difference between flight as it occurs in birds and how man has created means to fly, despite not being built for it. As an abstract, highly polished shape, Bird in Space presents the dichotomy between industrialization and the nature destroyed by the expansion of civilization.
Brendan Cronshaw
ReplyDeleteResponse 6
2.9.09
Constantin Brancusi’s sculpture The Beginning of the World, caught my eye immediately because at first glance the bronze, polished, egg-like oblong sphere mounted atop a shined disk and yet again atop a pedestal looked extremely simple and yet on greater inspection it created a larger, grander image and illusion.
Upon first inspection one’s sight goes directly to the sphere on top that is polished to a perfect shine and yet stretched to the right, and as Krauss describes it, giving it the appearance of almost being an egg. However it is slightly too pointed to be an egg, too elongated, and another deformity is the fact that the bottom right is more horizontal, while the top portion of the point is slanted. In a real egg these two sides of the pointed end would be symmetrical. The “egg” as Krauss describes it (p407) sits atop a reflective circle that is apparently made out of metal. The edges of the circular plate extend roughly twice as far as the ends of the egg from the center, allowing for there to be an area of reflection of the egg on the plane, as well as a large amount of surface area to reflect the ceiling and light in the room, which in this case appears plain.
Working one’s way down the sculpture, we are next met with a pedestal that also appears to be made out of metal but this time however, it is not symmetrical, nor is it smooth. Instead it appears to have notches or chinks taken out of it, at least on the right side, and the left side fails to mirror it in its direct descent to the floor. The left side alternatively extends vertically downward for a few inches and then makes a slight cut inward to the right, and again becoming vertical. It then protrudes straight back out to then turn towards the floor.
However, what makes this work of art noteworthy are not the simple details of the figures themselves but rather what is seen in them and the shadows that they cast. Looking closer at the egg on the circular, reflective disk, we can see a distorted, reproduced image of what is happening behind the point of view of the camera, as well as an image of the disk. The egg becomes more interesting, more complicated, and thus speaks to the viewer more. The shadow and reflection that the egg casts on the reflective disk is also notable in that it develops a contrast, a stark difference between the two objects as well as within the disk. At the edges it is light and almost white with light, and towards the center where it contacts the egg at a point, it becomes dark and reflects both the light and dark areas of the underside of the egg.
Depending on the lighting, number of people surrounding the work, and time of day, the sculpture changes in appearance and thus instills in the viewer a different image and meaning. And this is what seemed to be the case in modern art at this time, or at least in the sculptures that Krauss discusses. Just as the urinal that Duchamp turned ninety degrees to give it a different image, The Beginning of the World can be seen in numerous ways. Some may see it simply as an oblong, reflective object atop a reflective disk on a pedestal while others may see the reflections and what is within them and thus see and comprehend a deeper, more connected meaning of the sculpture, for example, maybe it means that they, the viewer, are the beginning of the world. How I understand it, it really is up to interpretation.
Danielle Beeve
ReplyDeleteHistory of Art R1B
Section 6
I was really amused by Marcel Duchamp’s attempted entry of a toilet as a piece of art by way of his ‘Fountain.’ I’ve actually seen a replica of this “sculpture” exhibited in SFMoMA and it was one of the most memorable things from my visit to the museum. This piece was what Duchamp called one of his ‘Readymades,’ meaning “works calculated to reveal, among their other effects, the workings of art institution as inseparable from the attribution of artistic value.” (427) I take this to mean that by putting such a thing as a toilet up on display as art, Duchamp is critiquing how we place value on artwork. He is commenting on the fact that we as observers give objects/artwork the value that we think they should have, but that may not always be an accurate estimate. An article was published in 1917 that was most likely written by Duchamp stating: “Whether Mr. Mutt with his own hands made the fountain or not has no importance. He CHOSE it. He took an ordinary article of life, placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view – created a new thought for that object.” (427) This description saying that manual labor on the part of the artist has no impact on the value of the object is in direct contradiction to the viewpoint of Karl Marx in his essay Capital: “the quantitative determination of value, namely the duration of that expenditure or the quantity of labour…In all situations, the labour-time it costs to produce the means of subsistence must necessarily concern mankind.” (420) Marx is saying that value is determined by labor time put into something, so in the case of Duchamp’s Fountain Marx would probably place little to no value on it as art, since the artist in this case took something made by someone else, he didn’t invest any time in creating it himself.
However, I believe that Duchamp’s entry should deserve to be called art as much as anything else going by that title. Duchamp took an everyday object, repositioned it and gave it a new name. In this way he is creating something new out of something already well-known, much as other artists paint portraits of real people and objects in the world around them. Although I believe labor-time is definitely a factor in assigning value, the pure inventiveness of Duchamp’s idea, as well as the humor inherent in it, can add value to this notorious piece of art-work as much as perfectly placed brushstrokes can add value to a still-life painting.
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ReplyDeleteBrancusi's The Newborn is the third sculpture of a four-part series, which he took eighteen years to complete. The Newborn is a simple piece in regards to its shape. It is almost a complete egg-shape with the exception of an indenture. This dip mimics an open mouth of a crying baby, down turned and progressively gets deeper a the "back" of the mouth. The sculpture is polishd in bronze, although it is probably wood or marble underneath. The bronze is so shiny that it reflects any light that lands on it.
ReplyDeleteThe simplicity of The Newborn's shape supports Brancusi's ideology that artwork needs not to reflect what an object, in this case a crying baby's head, truly looks like. The purpose of Brancusi's artwork is to help viewers break from the conventional way of thinking that we "need to find meaning" (79) in artwork. Brancusi uses basic shapes with little deformation to show how reduced artwork can become. The series traces Brancusi's abandonment of complex details. Torment is a boy; The Prometheus is a recognizable head; The Newborn is an oval-esque shape (it is less recognizable as a head than The Prometheus); and The Beginning of the World is an oval-esque shape sitting on a disk. This deteriorating complexity helps the viewer gradually disregard their notion that artwork must have an interpretive, transparent meaning.
Why does Brancusi work hard and patiently with each object, polishing the bronze to perfection? This is to erase all traces of the artist's touch or influence. Reminances of the artists will make viewers to try to interpret the artwork as the artist intended. Brancusi has no intention for interpretation though. It is simply what it is.
Mike Dreibelbis
ReplyDeleteHOAR1B
Response essay 6
In many art history books I have seen Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain and wondered why and how anyone could call this art. I had passed it off as crude and about as far from art as one could get. After reading Krauss’ analysis of the piece, as well as his bit on the history of the transformation of the art that Duchamp created and how it has become more “art of selection” than art of creation, I have a new appreciation for the piece.
I am not saying that I particularly like the piece, but I am seeing how it has become art and not merely a turned urinal. The thing that struck me the most was how Krauss said that “the work was no longer a common object, because it had been transposed.” That is to say, that in Duchamp’s eyes, because he had chosen this urinal, and had put it in this particular way, it had become art. Krauss argues that the work is art because it is presented differently than other urinals and I agree. Because this urinal in most eyes is seen as something unsightly, or even inappropriate for public viewing, it makes it art. I would contend that it is similar to the impressionist display of nudes. Many believed them to be unsightly and inappropriate, but in the eyes of the artist, the tableaux were tasteful representations of something natural. Duchamp hadn’t take something natural for his work, but he took something natural, urination, and made it public for all to see. That validates the claim for it to be art.
Krauss explains how Duchamp had been going through and creating homophonic texts, along the lines of Roussel, a pundit who took text and changed the words to sound similar, but mean something else. This, in my opinion, must have been the impetus that made him apply this sort of alterations to normal household objects, namely a urinal, and change it to make it something else. Krauss goes on to tell of how Duchamp had an alter ego “Rrose Selavy” which as Krauss explains, is the homophonic form of a sexual reference. This is shown in the Fountain in how the object echoes the form of a female, and how the curves seem to show the female curves.
Another thing that struck me was that this piece brought up many questions as to what constitutes art. Krauss discusses this in detail and comes to the conclusion that it is up to the artist to determine what makes art. This may seem to be irrational and gives to much freedom to the artist, but it is the spirit of the artist that makes art what it is. To constrict art to being naturalistic representations of landscape etc. would be a crime in my opinion. Though the masses may not like the piece, and may question whether this thing may or may not be considered art, we have to know that in a work like Fountain that was the artist’s intention.
I think in a fitting close to the discussion of Fountain, Krauss asks some questions that convict the people who contend it to not be art. “what is the expectation we carry to works of art? Why do we think [they]...must convey or embody a certain message? And finally: Are we justified...in believing the content to be connected to the producer of the object? These questions can always be asked when one looks at a piece that one might think of not being art. One must remember that art is in the eye of the beholder, and that every art piece had a purpose. Though that purpose may not be something one agrees with, one has to respect the art and the artist. I think Fountain is a perfect example of this.
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ReplyDeleteFelby Chen
ReplyDeleteHA R1B
Section 6
In Karl Marx’s “The Fetishism of the Commodity and Its Secret”, Marx discusses how a resource can become highly demanded so quickly. He begins by pointing out how a commodity, “as the product of human labor” (163), merely serves to “satisf[y] human needs” (163). After all, humans do create objects to help make processes shorter or more efficient. It is amazing to see how a resource can be transformed into an object “abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties” (163) simply by altering the resource’s shape; such a transformation only proves that every aspect of a work of art is vital to how it is perceived. For example, wood is just wood, and if altered into the form of a table, is still wood, but while an ordinary object, becomes much more sensuous than it was before when it was just a block of wood (163). The table therefore “emerges as a commodity”, for people will pay to buy wood in the form of a table. In a sense, these commodities are art.
Marx then goes on to discuss the how the “mystical character of the commodity does not arise from its use-value” (164), but rather from human efforts to transform a resource into a commodity. According to a psychological theory, when people put effort into something, people tend to become attached to their work, since so much time has been invested into it. Thus, people see that “the mysterious character of the commodity-form consists simply in the fact that the commodity reflects the social characteristics of men’s own labour as objective characteristics of the products of labour themselves, as the socio-natural properties of these things” (164). Also, as men begin to work together to create these sensuous commodities out of natural resources, their interaction and labour soon become a social form. Through these transformations of natural resources into commodities and commodity exchange between individuals, these “products of labour acquire a socially uniform objectivity as values, which is distinct from their sensuously varied objectivity as articles of utility” (166), as people begin to deem some commodities as trends or necessary (but is actually conspicuous, as coined by Norwegian-American sociologist Thorstein Veblen) consumption.
Humans’ love for commodities can easily be traced to their involvement in creating the commodities; such fetishism for commodities is key because the same process works for any artwork – if one creates a work, one will definitely love one’s own work because one created it.
Landon Turner
ReplyDeleteI found Duchamp's Fountain interesting. It was a urinal that Duchamp rotated ninety degrees so the side normally connected to the wall was no on the base of the sculpture. He then signed it under the pseudonym Mutt. The actual urinal did not pique my interest that much. It looks exactly like an old style urinal sitting on its back. I did, however, find this sculpture cohesive with some of his writing. Krauss says that “Duchamp had begun to produce as”works” elaborate word-plays in which sentences were constructed by the repetition and inversion of a small group of phonemes”. This idea had been taken from Roussel, who would use the same sentence for the opening and the closing. The two sentences would appear nearly identical, however he would transpose one letter. An example of this are his two sentences “la peau verdatre de la prune un peu mure” [the greenish skin of the ripening plum] and “la peau verdatre de la brune un peu mure” [the greenish skin of the aging brunette]. The two sentences have similar compositions, but have completely different meanings. With his Fountain, I believe that Duchamp was trying to produce the same type of effect. By inverting the urinal, it was still (nearly) the same object. Its function has changed dramatically though. Krauss also says “it had been repositioned, and this physical repositioning stood for a transformation that must then be read on a metaphysical level. Folded into that act of inversion is a moment in which the viewer has to realize that an act of transfer has occured- an act in which the object has been transplanted from the ordinary world into the realm of art”. As corny as “the realm of art” sounds, there is a huge difference between a useful object and a piece of art. One small change completely altered its function, which I think is a huge point that Duchamp wanted to get across.
Freud also talks about this substitution which occurs when one thing is changed into another. He begins his discourse with a diverse list of gold conversions. So what? He even says “A commodity appears at first sight an extremely obvious, trivial thing. But its analysis brings out that there is a very strange thing, abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties.” What he is referring to is the value of human labor. “It is absolutely clear that, by his activity, man changes the forms of the materials of nature in such a way as to make them useful to him”. Regarding the Fountain, Duchamp did the exact opposite. He took the useful object, changed it by rotating it, which rendered it useless. He reverted the object, which previously had utility to something with close to none.
Marcel Duchamp’s Bottle Rack forces the viewer to question what defines the boundary between art and everyday objects. The “sculpture” consists of a bottle rack from the era, upon which Duchamp added his signature, thereby “creating” a work of art. In this act, Duchamp questioned inherent notions of art as a wholly created substance of the artist himself.
ReplyDeleteThe bottle rack itself was a simple composition: it consisted of 6 layers of centralized rings, with larger rings on the bottom of the rack. Around these rings hooks spread outward, spaced evenly. The entire composition was made of galvanized iron, rendering it quite plain—a monotonous silver color covered the entire work. The hooks, springing outward, create a harmony through their dictatorially patterned arrangement. The evenly spaced rings further this sensation of pattern and harmony.
As a result of the vertical supports interacting with the rings, the structure as a whole appears quite biological by nature. It structurally resembles an anemone, seemingly springing up from the ground reaching upwards with the many hooks. Despite this, the sculpture as a whole is quite plain and stagnant. Duchamp did not choose this bottle rack for its beauty, or even specific social purpose. He selected it merely to further his opinions of art and how one man, with one inscription, can turn an everyday mundane object into a masterpiece quintessential to modern museum displays.
Danielle Lee
ReplyDeleteMarcel Duchamp is best known for his artwork, “Fountain.” This repositioned urinal raised questions of what can be considered art. How could such a commercial everyday object be categorized under the same context as an oil painting by Claude Monet? If set in a line of hundreds of urinals, “Fountain” would almost perfectly blend in if not for two minor characteristics; its 90 degree positioning and the sign of authorship placed on the lower left corner. The name “R. Mutt” marks the barrier between this urinal and the rest. By signing a name on this manufactured object, Duchamp helps transform this commercial item into a piece of art which raises questions and speculation of what is it that creates a work of art.
The “Fountain,” like all other urinals is glossy, shiny, white, and curvy. Unlike other urinals, however, is its positioning and the words “R. Mutt.” By aligning the urinal in an unordinary manner, Duchamp is claiming an authenticity on this specific urinal. It no longer blends in with the rest of these objects, instead it stands out. By having one different aspect, Duchamp is able to transcend his artwork from the real of basic items to a “realm of art” (Krauss 77). What does this transformation mean? By evolving from an everyday object, the urinal allowed for the questioning to be recognized as a form of artwork. As explained by Krauss in “Forms of Readymade: Duchamp and Brancusi,” the readymades suggest, “that a work might not be a physical object but rather a question, and that the making, of art might, therefore, be recognized as taking a perfectly legitimate form in the speculative act of posing questions (Krauss 73).” The “Fountain’s” leap into the realm of artwork provokes questions and thoughts. These thoughts in the opinions of artists like Duchamp are actually works of art.
The questions and thoughts raised by the presentation of the “Fountain” confront a whole new approach to artwork. The speculation of such a common commodity creates space for metaphorical approaches. Because the artwork is so neglected and untouched by Duchamp, the viewer assumes metaphorical symbols or representations. As mentioned by Krauss, some viewers viewed the porcelain curves as metaphor for a female figure (Krauss 79). Unlike artwork by Pablo Picasso or Titian, “Fountain’s” metaphor is created by the viewer rather than by the artist. The question of what art can consist of is challenged by the presentation of this urinal.
Duchamp’s slight manipulation of a urinal evokes a viewer’s curiosity as he/she attempts to determine if the “Fountain” is art. According to Krauss and Duchamp, this process of speculating is another form of artwork that had never previously been tapped into. The signature and positioning of the urinal enables the article to glide into the “realm of art,” and this transformation leads to the formation of art as a speculation.
The first thing that caught my attention was the statement: “images that we recognize as the basis of the experience we identify as art” (399). In this way, I soon enjoyed reading about the transformations of everyday objects into readymade art. The concept of slightly altering a typical object in order to declare it as art is intriguing to me in that paintings pretty are pretty much the same thing. People declare that paintings are capable of expressing and artist’s feelings and emotions through the brush strokes and the way in which the art is created, but I find readymade art quite remarkable as well. I see a vast similarity in painting and in readymade art in that they each stand as a still image with the hopes of emitting a message to the viewer. I am intrigued by the readymade art because it serves as a tangible, three-dimensional figure. Sure—traditional art connects in a psychological sense by bringing the viewer and creator together (402), nevertheless, readymade art has the ability to portray various messages as the object is in different orientations. For instance, the transformation of the urinal depicts a woman and her curves. I have ultimately come to realize that art is a personal invention of meaning in relation to the intended message of the artist.
ReplyDeleteThe reading depicts Duchamp’s painting of the Glider on glass with hopes of portraying a transparent, illusionistic perspective (405). This image of a water mill is painted on and sandwiched between two pieces to glass in order for it to appear as though it is floating in space. The prose further shapes the idea of the floating glass image by declaring that the image forces its viewer to focus on the strangeness, rather that its beauty, as an act of bringing the image to life. In my opinion, the central idea of this piece of artwork is the three-dimensional illusion it emits. I think this is an important point because traditional art uses lines and shading to depict depth, whereas this piece uses two pieces of readymade art to represent the same thing.
Jenny Zhang
ReplyDeleteHA R1B Section 6
Reading Response #6
I found it quite difficult to understand Gill Perry’s paper about “Forms of Readymade: Duchamp and Brancusi because the artworks described were sculptures that I have never been exposed to before. Marcel Duchamp’s sculpture was particularly intriguing to me because they were simply commercial objects, that are found everywhere, but were somehow claimed to be art after Duchamp’s signature were written on it. It made me worry about the direction that modern art is going because the artistic images are much more randomized and seemingly has no meaning or artistic talent, compared to past art.
Like we have spoken in class, the uniqueness of modern art is each artist’s way of interpreting what is considered art and how art is made. This point is made especially clear in Perry’s reading when she introduces the gala, Impressions of Africa, based on a story by Raymond Roussel, that tried to make fun of the Impressionist art and other modern art forms like Cubism which focus on the production of art and how it can be used to generate different impressions or sensations of a single scenery. In the gala, various machines were presented that can mimic an artist or musician’s work by using scientific mechanism. For example, there was a painting machine that could paint a landscape exactly as it is by using photosensitive plates. These machines undermine the talents of artists and remove the “psychological and emotional structure of the person who initiates the art” (399). Because of the point made by this gala, artists like Duchamp and Brancusi tried to use readymade objects and oddly shaped bronze sculpture to raise questions about what can be classified as art, since these machines have so proven that they too can create art based on natural sensations like reflections of light. Duchamp’s readymade pieces’ spatial arrangements were modified in order to give the object forms or lines (that you don’t recognize at first) into which a meaning can be conveyed. A good instance of this is the Fountain which is actually a urinal that is shown in a “birds-eye-view” perspective. The urinal is then transformed into something that resembles a uterus or the female’s curves.
Brancusi’s art was different from Duchamp’s because he manually reformed organic substances into a sculptures that were then cast with bronze. I found the transition from Torment to the Prometheus to The Newborn was extremely interesting because the subjects are apparently reproductions or reinterpretations of the previous sculpture, that are created by remolding the surfaces of the sculpture. And each time the surface was contorted, a new sensation or meaning is created. I felt that in the progression from Torment to The Newborn, the surfaces of the sculpture became smoother and more simplified. All of the sculptures convey a form of troubled sensation. In Torment, the child looks like there is something bothering him to the point that he looks like he is crying. In the Prometheus, the head looks unbalanced with the appearance of almost toppling over. As if there is a struggle for balance of the mind. Perry analyzed the sculpture to be showing a mind that is caught “between two states of being” (410). Lastly, The Newborn, is similar to Prometheus, except that now there is no apparent nose but a large crying mouth is seemingly present along with a lash gash in the middle of the head. To me it looked like someone who is having a hard time making up their mind and is expressing their frustration through their cry. I don’t know if these components of the two last sculptures by Brancusi were intended to be there but I think that by recreating the surfaces of the simple eggs can add such personality to his modern sculptures.
As modernism progressed, boundaries were pushed further and further. Inevitably the question had to be asked: what makes “art” art? It seems Marcel Duchamp made a career through repeatedly posing this question with his “readymades”. The pinnacle and ultimate embodiment of this question is certainly his ‘Fountain’. Although he clearly explains his artistic process, the value of his work is in the hands of the audience. In this sense, Duchamp asks, “is this art?” and the public provides the answer. This should evoke the gradual process of clarification by way of concrete definition for the abstract categorization. However, this would necessitate a universal definition everyone could agree on, and this is an impossibility. Looking up the word “art” in the dictionary gives a vague list of what art is, and most things can conceivably fit this list. An interesting way of viewing the abstract term is to set questions in a binary fashion. For example, the first question raised in Krauss’s text was: does there have to be a connection between the finished product and the creator? I say binary for two reasons. The first is because a concrete definition should fit such a model. Secondly, the application of a binary system demonstrates the impossibility of clear definition. There are agreements and disagreements, and most questions will undoubtedly be a shade of gray. In the spirit of questioning, I ask why define and categorize? What does that accomplish, and how is it restricting?
ReplyDeleteKrauss’s article titled, “Forms of the Readymade: Duchamp and Brancusi”, sought to demonstrate a parallel between the two artists. At first glance, both artists are sculptors, yet their work is strikingly different. I found it difficult to draw a parallel between the artists, but there is a strong similarity between Duchamp’s ‘Fountain’ and Brancusi’s ‘Torso of a Young Man’ or better yet ‘Princess X’. Additionally, they both worked to reject the traditional narrative assigned to works of art. On the other hand, the aesthetics of their sculptures are much different. On the most part, Duchamp forges art from readymade products, while Brancusi specializes in highly polished bronze work. So, it seems that while they may implement different styles, they are ultimately posing the same questions.
By interpreting Karl Marx’s article metaphorically, we gain a new perspective on the value assigned to art. He demonstrates that value is a function of the social implications of human labor as well as a commodities’ usefulness. Ultimately he states that “value is realized only in exchange.”(177) This concept then becomes slippery when applied to art. For one thing, art is paradoxically capable of evoking powerful mental or emotional states, yet simultaneously is not a requirement for life. Additionally, if the value of art is determined by the amount it sells for, then the opinions of those with money are in higher regard than those without money. So in a sense, Marx is attempting to answer the questions posed by Duchamp and Brancusi. However, I feel he still falls short, and instead shows that the concept of art cannot be assigned value like most commodities.
The last articles regarding Dadaism, ironically come closest to defining art. Their complete lack of manifesto and free perspective essentially states “to each his own”. They state “Art is a private affair; the artist produces it for himself.”(255) Additionally, they oppose the value perspective of Marx by acknowledging the worth of art is not to be determined by the bourgeois. Their siding with Duchamp and Brancusi is made apparent, because they believe the value in art lies in the questions they are able to pose. In this sense artistic value has nothing to do with money as Marx would lead one to believe.
*** Prior to writing this response I didn't see the rubric posted on this site. My response doesn't exactly fit, but it is close. Please let me know if you would like me to do it again...
On Dadaist Disgust....
ReplyDeleteThe last section of the Dada Manifesto 1918, titled "Dadaist Disgust," carries on the "rapid fire" characteristics of the previous sections. Using this linguistic momentum, Tzara not only projects the "motion" of Dada, but uses the flurry to drive the reader's emotion into an ecstatic state - which he or she is rendered unable to counter any logic. The first way to identify Tzara's use of form is in the progressively shortening and definitive statements: "Every product of disgust capable of becoming a negation of the family is Dada; a protest with the fists of its whole being engaged in destructive action:....Dada; abolition of the future..."(256) After the sentences shorten, Tzara breaks the momentum and puts in a larger sentence which he then builds up from again (top of page 257). The intensity is again heightened, but through longer sentences with many commas and adjectives and dashes - ending with: "LIFE." - a highly definitive statement. Repetition, in the sense of form, is the second component of Tzara's intensity and projection of "Dada commotion." At the bottom of page 256, Tzara repeats the word abolition: "abolition of memory: Dada; abolition of archaeology: Dada; abolition of prophets:...etc..."(256) Tzara projects power and force, the characteristics of a manifesto, through his use of repetition and definitive statements.
Aside form projecting his subject matter in form, Tzara focuses, or rather, distills it into one central thought: "LIFE" and the fact that it is "a roaring of tense colors, and interlacing of opposites and of all contradictions, grotesques, inconsistencies:..."(257) This line, the climax and the culmination of Dada reflects Dada in itself and clarifies what may have been thought to be contradictory earlier on (ideas that denounced doctrines - like manifestos). He recognizes the inherent contradiction in writing a Dada manifesto, yet at the same time, embraces the contradiction because it is an innate human quality and experience - unavoidable. It takes the idea of "Know thyself," which as explained earlier is not a completely ridiculous statement because it embraces wickedness along side good-heartedness(253). And so, this last statement stands most important because the entire manifesto seemed to be a contradiction for the reasons that Tzara what pointing out were inherently contradicted the minute he wrote them into a manifesto. By embracing contradiction and chaos as parts just as valuable to the human experience and rendering in art and machinery, Tzara is asking the reader to embrace industrialization, motion, goodness, evil, and all other juxtapositions and contradictions - a full experience, uncut. His rhetoric furthers this culmination. His use of denial, defninitives and contradiction alone embodies the concept of Dada. Further, it still adheres to a manifesto-esque style, but without a clear set of rules - no numbers like the futurists. Rather, he hammers out one point, and that is to experience life in all of its aspects - a continually changing, contradicting, violent experience. Beauty, in a sense is a facade in these terms - they seem to culminate into a beauty, but they are really just parts and the whole, can be whatever term one wants. It follows a trail of complete subjectivity to the individual's experience.
Response 6
ReplyDeleteConstantin Brancusi is best known for his ability to take everyday geometric shapes and transforms them just slight enough to create something of his own. One such sculpture is the Torso of a Young Man. The Torso of a Young Man consists of a large elongated cylinder situated between two short cylinders tilted at about forty-five degree angles. The long cylinder represents the torso while the short angled cylinders symbolize stubby legs. The way the stubby legs fit into the torso at the bottom of the sculpture creates a triangular shape that resembles a crotch, with the legs emerging from hips. In the wood version of this sculpture, Brancusi utilized a piece of wood forked with its own branches to create the torso, exploiting the natural properties of this wood to create a more natural shape and look to the work. However, just as ready as he is to exploit the natural, he also act in “violation of the apparent properties of his physical medium” (100). His second version is done in polished bronze, with the attention on how the legs and body connected focused on the mechanical means instead of the natural. In the polished bronze version, the joints between the legs and torso fit like pipes, morphing the project from the natural, almost biological, feel of a boy’s torso into an industrial work of art.
This change from the natural to the mechanical in this sculpture exemplifies Brancusi’s rejection of the “technologically based role of analysis in sculpture” (103). He takes simple geometric shapes to create this symmetrical sculpture of highly polished bronze that leaves little room for analysis of the form. Thus, he rejects the historical or psychological narrative that those of the scientific mind tend to inject into a sculpture. He also polishes the bronze until no evidence of his hand in the work exists, further emphasizing the machine-made quality of the sculpture and his refusal to be analyzed through his works.