Vacuuming The Cosmological Threats of Dirt: Simulated Pigeon Shit in Las Vegas

Las Vegas' strip is an accumulation of anything's simulacra displayed in such a way that it can fit in a perfect picture frame. Wonderfully consumable, a Barthesian wonderland and very stimulating for four days, Las Vegas' simulacra is never dirty - tacky but never dirty - and always honestly thought-out, so it becomes very exciting when dirt is included in the equation.

After taking a cab from a convention center filled with electronics to Paris where I had a drink in a plastic-Eiffel Tower, I walked through a Hector Guimard-themed Casino to wait for a car to take me to Venice. Behind twenty other humans waiting for motorized saviors at the Paris (there's an unsaid ban against walking in Vegas), I noticed fake pigeon dung covering the Victor Baltard-inspired marquee. This isn't anecdotal.

As mentioned before, like the rest of Vegas, nothing is here by happenstance, everything is the result of recent thought-out and human-powered decisions. The water like every carpet and every tree was selected and transported by a group of rational humans less than thirty years ago. It is the most honest, and arguably rational, materialization of a late 20th century cultural phantasma composed of all and any signs and simulations. So seeing man-made fake pigeon dung in Vegas is very very meaningful. Perhaps it represents the American stereotype of Paris which includes more pigeon dung than the one they have for Venice (where there is no fake pigeon shit). Or perhaps Paris' train stations are the only ones worth reproducing for a hotel in Vegas hence the inclusion of its pigeons... 

Whatever the possible reasoning this instance adds an exciting new dimension to my research on pigeons and dirt as "matter out of place": the fact is that the matter signifying the presence of dirt (the pigeons) on the Las Vegas Paris' marquee is 'clean' (it isn't actual shit, but paint) and so beyond matter or context, this sanitized representation of dirt authenticates simulacrum by vacuuming any of the cosmological threats implied by the actual things it signifies.

And this is what is so charming about Las Vegas.

The Lack of Subtlety, the Art of Making Things Banal and Provincial Masturbation

I went to the "Denis Gagnon Shows All" exhibition at the Musée des Beaux Arts de Montréal yesterday. 

Gagnon is a fashion designer - sorry "couturier" - well known for his thick glasses and recent use of zippers. The exhibition was designed by another of Québec's creative force, "famous architect from Montreal" (quote Nathalie Bondil) Gilles Saucier. Gilles and Denis must have agreed that Denis was a gift to the province - sorry the world (of fashion) - and his talents of universal artistic value and that consequently everything would be done to dramatically aestheticize not only his dresses but also the man - sorry couturier - and his sales. 

The dresses, which seem to have been selected for their geometrical proportions and high contrasts, are presented on plastic white models hanging from the ceiling and lit with led lights to project heavy shadows on the costumes and the floor. Since Denis' talent and the outcome of it is as atemporal as it is universal there are no tags with dates or material used for the objects shown - you just have to look to feel their value. If the shadows don't make you feel enough the dramatic music blasting in the background can help. It accompanies a geometrical three screen projection on the ceiling with Denis and his glasses in slow motion during a fashion show. The film plays on repeat just in case you didn't notice it the first twenty times around. It gave me a head ache and seems to purposefully distract you from the dresses.

Honestly some of the dresses aren't uncreative, but since all selected pieces are from his fall/winter 2010 or Spring/Summer 2011 collections, the curator monitoring the show should have put commercial tags straight up. Besides the moment you are out of the store - sorry museum - you can head to Holt and Renfrew a block away and buy your own. I know a lot of stores like to think of their windows as curated - fine -  I'm more curious as to why a museum would want a fashion window in its institution. 

Fashion is far from being a simple banality. More than art, it is key in how we construct our everyday selves for ourselves as well as for and through others, and because of this, like art, it deserves an essential place in public debate. Some fascinating fashion exhibits have been curated in exhibition spaces: at the Barbican Art Gallery in London with Viktor and Rolf or at the FIT on costume and American nationalism. So instead of just presenting two pretty tacky collections by a local designer with the most unsubtle presentation possible, why not use the collection to analyze the role of nudity in culture (a key aspect in his dresses), think about the influence of local vs. multinational trends, the presence of decay in contemporary high fashion, the evolution and relation of craft and fast fashion - in other words making it interesting and more than a boutique showcase.

The real pompom  was that - while the close up images of his dresses (horse hair and zippers) stuck to the walls looked like advertisementss, the music sounded like an Operette from an all-inclusive in Santo Domingo, the shadows contrived and the dresses overall tacky - the promotion material for the exhibit presented a glass-less Denis nude staring in our eyes. Again very subtle. I think you are suppose to read something along the lines of Denis Gagnon: an icon unveiled. Not only is the photoshop poorly done but not even for their Yves St Laurent retrospective - an icon whose influence is seriously difficult to question - was there no image of the couturier.

and that is called provincial masturbation.

More Post ArtFair Thoughts: Mateo Rivano and the Nature of Art

Mateo Rivano's agYU installation at Art Toronto

Since Art Toronto isn't a massive multi-fair enterprise it offers something Miami's forthcoming late november and early december events - including but not limited to SCOPE, Photo Miami, Pulse, Verge, DesignMiami, Art Basel Miami Beach - can't, and that's diversity under one roof. 

In Toronto there's a weird medley of anything that defines itself as art - emerging street artists, bucolic oil landscapes, neo pop collages from China, Muybridge collotypes, Damien Hirst hearts, abstract Canadian icons or newly hyped things.

Which comes to my favorite point: how are all these different things all considered art?

For example Mateo Rivano's installation at the Art Gallery of York University was my favorite booth. Collecting found frames or books from vintage stores, trash bins or the street, this Columbian artist then fills them with doodles, drawings and colors. Not limited by medium he also works with animation, installation, the street and sculpture. The way he talks about his work is neither highly conceptual or simple production. If I try to boil down with the simplest of reasoning why I like his images: they are pleasant funny narrations with an aesthetic I like. 

Now if I try to boil down with the simplest of reasoning my take on the "weird medley" mentioned in the second paragraph of this post it goes as such: the tacky landscapes with the unmissable touch of orange, pink or purple; the crappy Chinese photo collages of Western 'icons'; the simple and so important Muybridges; the overrated and flatly boring but highly lucrative butterflies by Hirst; the captivatingly abstract and poignant Ron Martins; and the somewhat too glittery new stuff by Kim Dorland.

But all of it is art. It was all shown at a fair, made with intention, possibly bought after a powerful interaction and packed with care.

Murakami's Fall of Scandals

Takashi Murakami is an artist/designer/brand owner/billionaire and workholic. His work is based on the concept of the Tate Modern and National Gallery show "Pop Life: Art in a Material World," aka this object is a tacky, easy to make, and/or part of everyday culture, so is it art? (see past blog post). His latest venture is the design of the latest cover of Brit magazine Pop. Obviously the use of Britney Spears is 'edgy,' because, she too, is one of those ambiguous characters who is just as tacky, easily consumable but at the same time slightly auratic and controversial. So their association isn't that surprising - yet you should think it is. If anything is surprising here is the wonders done by good lighting, makeup and photoshop.

In parallel to that 'scandalous' cover, France is debating over the reasons why le Château de Versailles is presenting works by the Japanese artist, aka where is culture going? Where is the respect for the past going? etc... Like the Jeff Koons exhibition two years ago exactly, many are outraged but if things go as planned it will be a blockbuster exhibition. A scandal remains a scandal even if culture is at risk. It opens on September 14th.

Jeff Koons' penis vs. John Baldessari's brain: what does it take for the 'what is art' question to be successfully conveyed?

Curious to compare the National Gallery's Pop Life: Art in a Material World exhibit to the one presented last October in the Tate Modern, I accidently ended up in Ottawa on Canada Day. Both in the UK and in Canada, Pop Life was, and remains, a blockbuster success.

If there are a few differences - particularly in Canada, the sad spacial absence marking the controversy around Richard Prince's photograph of young Brooke Shields' nude and the unnecessary addition of a room thought-out by so-called genius concept Reena Spaulings but based on a notion articulated better by others fifty years ago (see Nouveau Realist Daniel Spoerri in particular) - both exhibits are a shiny clutter of recognizable works, names, ideas, shows, things, accessories and humor by Andy Warhol, Andy Warhol's disciples (Haring, Basquiat, etc) and Andy Warhol's sons (Hirst, Koons, etc).

This success is obviously tied to the overt and cool 'contentious' issues that are embedded in the show's premise: Brillo Boxes (courtesy Warhol) and a calf in formaldehyde (courtesy Hirst) question art with an 'ironic' regard Mona Lisa incontestably can't. However how does this type of art get to be such a success when similar contentious questions have also been tackled by artists without the clunky use of their penis stuck in La Cicciolina waxed asshole (courtesy Koons)?

When I saw Pop Art at the Tate Modern, the neighboring temporary exhibition was a retrospective, John Baldessari Pure Beauty. After the bustling business and literal heat of the Pop Art rooms, John Baldessari's space was strikingly different - it was empty. Better to contemplate his thoughtful yet biting career of videos, words, canvases, collages and a final installation (see photo above) subtly questioning the nature of our contemporary human condition, the difference of public interest between both shows was a sad nod to what Pierre Bourdieu hoped for: the opening up of museums. Indeed in the 60s this French sociologist observed the exclusion of people lacking a cultural capital, and invited museums to democratize their spaces with better formulated labels, programs, visits, relaxed atmospheres, cheaper entrance fees, etc...

Ideally I'm all about this, I think art can be a powerful force to question our own assumptions on reality. Practically, though, exhibitions that are public successes seem to require the straightforward 'irony' and (at this point) boring 'controverse' of Warhol and this results in people like Jeff Koons and Cosey Fanni Tutti imposing their wet dreams to my face in the name of 'irony', 'mockery' and 'art.'

I believe in Baldessari. (the MET is opening his retrospective next October).