The Midwest landscape: Joachim Brohm's Ohio photographs

Slowly over the past two years I've been working on a project examining (through words and images) the complexities of the American Midwest, from the perspective of how landscape and geography affect the behaviors and emotions of individuals. One aspect of that equation I'm intrigued by is how we first determine, then choose to reject or internalize, any sense of regional identity in the Midwest -- and how that process is both influenced by and reflected through the landscape here.

In some areas of the U.S., such as the deep South or many coastal regions, residents tend to have a rather clearly defined sense of regional identity. For many people in the Midwest however, that notion of identity seems comparatively more vague or ambiguous: they might be more likely to simply consider themselves ordinary Americans than boldly (or primarily/individually) "Midwestern".

In other ways (including identity, geography, and more), the region is perhaps some form of middle other: not quite east, not quite west, but stuck somewhere in the in-between. Or, as David Foster Wallace wickedly sums up in The Broom of the System, much of whose fictitious plot unfolds in my native Cleveland and elsewhere in Ohio:

"…what are we to say of this area of the country…both in the middle and on the fringe. The physical heart, and the cultural extremity. Corn, a steadily waning complex of heavy industry, and sports… We feed and stoke and supply a nation much of which doesn't know we exist. A nation we tend to be decades behind, culturally and intellectually… This area makes for truly bizarre people. Troubled peopled… And when the people in question then become old, when they must not only come to terms with and recognize the implications of their consciousness of themselves as part of this strange, occluded place, when they must incorporate and manage memory, as well, past perceptions and feelings. Perceptions of the past. Memories: things that both are and aren't. The Midwest: a place that both is and isn't."

Its possible that some aspects of the seemingly evasive Midwestern identity can be visualized through the stark horizontal lines that pervade the landscape here -- imposing wide, flat expanses that evoke various conflicting and contradictory ideas in the minds of natives, the general American imagination, and the proclivities of the political sphere.

Further, a sort of mundane uniformity is often reflected in the built landscape around much of the region as well, for example seen in the endlessly gridded street systems and town-to-town layouts largely passed down through the historical establishment of agricultural plots and communities along transportation routes.

In thinking about and working through these concepts, one solid reference point for me has been the Ohio photographs of Joachim Brohm, created in 1983-84 while he lived in Columbus, Ohio on a Fulbright scholarship (the images were later published in book form by Steidl).

(**note: all images below are from the book Ohio, copyright Joachim Brohm**)

Topically, Brohm's approach to the Ohio landscape around him reveals the profound influences of New Topographics photographers (especially Robert Adams and Lewis Baltz, the latter of whom Brohm met in 1981) on his work. And aesthetically, Brohm's rather early forays into color photography reflect his deep interest in the color works of American photographers a decade before him such as Stephen Shore and William Eggleston (whose groundbreaking exhibition of color prints at MoMA in 1976 helped solidify a new foothold for color photography in the art world).

Working with a handheld medium format camera, most of Brohm's photos are composed at eye level in snapshot style, and utilize an intentionally muted color palette whose drab, desaturated hues combine to create a distinct mood throughout. He focuses his lens on fringe spaces of the urban and suburban landscape: parking lots, overhead wires, fences, back alleys, worn and emptied roads -- much of which is reminiscent of Shore's Uncommon Places.

While the human presence is indelibly felt in his images, few actual people appear in them, and those we do see often seem rather disengaged or isolated -- summarily, this contrast creates poignant symbols of the decentralization that plagued urban areas nationwide during a period of accelerated suburban sprawl, white flight, and disinvestment (or reinvestment elsewhere, typically along the suburban arterial highways). The sense of decay left in its wake (and illustrated through many of Brohm's Ohio photos) hints at the fleetingness of the American Dream in that era -- not quite the new "morning in America" purported by Reagan's campaign rhetoric and economic policies of the day.

Brohm's keen eye for subtle details in the landscape and banal insignificant moments of daily life direct the viewer towards locating his Midwestern setting, as a certain sense of "everywhere and nowhere" permeates each photograph. To be sure, in many ways Columbus, Ohio is the perfect epitome of "everywhere and nowhere": a place that is continually vacillating between the gravity of its northern (think Cleveland, union labor, liberal politics) and southern (think Cincinnati with its comparatively conservative leanings and complicated racial history) neighbors; a place that has, perhaps with a mix of pride and reticence, long been a fertile testing ground for consumer products and advertising campaigns (think big box stores and chain restaurants).

Yet in that process of being a barometer of American averageness, Columbus merely becomes distinctively indistinct, returning us to the theory of the ambiguous regional identity in the Midwest, perhaps decisively personified in Ohio itself -- or, as Vince Leo writes in an essay in Brohm's Ohio book: "…the real Ohio exists in the discussion, in the not-yet-but-maybe, in the confusion, terror, and promise of malleable identity."

Art Openings 2/9: Andrew Rafacz Gallery, Kavi Gupta Gallery, Western Exhibitions, 3433 Gallery (and final notice for exhibitions ending soon)

Andrew Rafacz Gallery begins their 2013 schedule with the exhibition Cern, new works by Jeremy Bolen, opening tomorrow nite. A certain thread that runs thru Bolen's art is the focus on human perception, mostly notably the gap between the visible vs. the invisible, and how each is represented. In a way, his works are a modest reformulation of the documentary capabilities of photography: in Cern for example, we see Bolen employing experimental photo techniques with self-designed cameras and incorporating water, soil, unexposed film, and other materials to manipulate the apparatus (and the film) which creates an image. His photographic efforts are indelibly linked to scientific research, and he often collaborates with scientists in experimentation.

Untitled (CERN 7.20.12), 2012

© Jeremy Bolen

More specifically, the images in Cern are part of a long-term project Bolen began in 2011 working around the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) in France and Switzerland. In an underground tunnel spanning 17 miles, the LHC is an awe-inspiring behemoth of scientific innovation and research: it can produce 600 million particle collisions per second, and has recreated and recorded the conditions in the universe at the time of the Big Bang. This potential, however, is not without its problems: the LHC has raised concerns within the surrounding communities and beyond, about the possible effects of the research, including the possibility of creating black holes (!). And in a similar way, such consequences reveal a fundamental glitch in the overall scientific process: the extent to which natural materials and forces are disturbed through research. It is in that regard where scientific exploration and Bolen's explorations merge quite nicely: even the act of photographing has that same result (whether intended or not) of manipulating its subject, and altering perception and representation.

Untitled (CERN 7.18.12), 2012

© Jeremy Bolen

Cern
new works by Jeremy Bolen
opening Saturday 9 February, 4-7pm
Andrew Rafacz Gallery
835 W. Washington Blvd., Chicago

Also on the block that nite, Kavi Gupta Gallery opens an exhibition with conceptual artist Johanna Billing and her newest film "I'm gonna live anyhow until I die" (2012). The video blends fiction and documentary as it details individual experiences within changing societies -- in this case set in Italy and influenced by her time in Rome during protests against university reforms in 2010, which has focused the film on the future outlook for today's youth and the evolving populist political sphere around them.

still from "I'm gonna live anyhow until I die", 2012

© Johanna Billing

In addition, the project space at Kavi Gupta features three new large paintings by Matthew Metzger, revealing his ongoing explorations in abstraction.

"I'm gonna live anyhow until I die"
work by Johanna Billing
-and-
Waver
works by Matthew Metzger
opening Saturday 9 February, 4-7pm
Kavi Gupta Gallery
835 W. Washington Blvd., Chicago

And next door, take some time to check out the work in Bound and/or Stapled (or not), a selection of new artist books at Western Exhibitions. On view are books by Nina Hartmann, Terence Hannum, Leah Mackin, Andy Moore, and others.

Untitled (Bound), 2012

© Leah Mackin

Bound and/or Stapled (or not)
selection of new artist books
ongoing thru 9 March
Western Exhibitions
845 W. Washington Blvd., Chicago

Meanwhile, if you're in the NW part of the city, or feeling adventurous to make the trek up there, check out the new space 3433, a project of five artistic collaborators which opens up Saturday nite. Their inaugural exhibition Hammers Down features works by Sean Lamoureux and Sam Trioli, in a presentation that experiments with the visual and physical space of the room. Inspiration comes from part of a poem by Susan Howe, who writes: "Effaced background dissolves remotest foreground".
As such, the viewer is guided to search for their own interpretive connections to and between the works.

© Sean Lamoureux

Hammers Down 
works by Sean Lamoureux and Sam Trioli
opening Saturday 9 February, 6-9pm
3433
3433 N. Kedvale Ave., Chicago

Lastly, wanted to catch up on a few notable exhibitions that are still ongoing but let this serve as a final notice that they close in the next few weeks.
At Schneider Gallery, the show Second Nature features large photographic prints by Tony Favarula (one of the collaborators at 3433) that investigate a tableau of his personal domestic space. Here, Favarula begins with sketches and recollections of simple everyday moments in his home, then later sculpts and stages them into dramatic (some by their stark simplicity, others by their elaborateness) re-enactments for the final photograph. In this way, the viewer is allowed to enter the artist's private space and potentially identify cues and triggers from their own personal domestic experiences.

Untitled (Interior), 2012

© Tony Favarula

Favarula's careful detailing and use of light and color evoke historical images of realist painting. Of particular interest is his self-portrait (seen below), a revealing insight into the artist. With a reference to classical compositions, the portrait carries a curious duality: on the one hand the viewer is aware that his representation is staged and controlled, yet on the other hand there is this inescapable identification with his expression and body language, namely in a way that portrays the rigor and exhaustion of his practice -- the labor of work plus artistic pursuit plus raising a family; and at the end of a workday, in a quiet private moment alone, where the domestic space can provide a temporary haven of relief and respite.

Self-Portrait, 2012

© Tony Favarula

Second Nature
photographs by Tony Favarula
ongoing thru 23 February
Schneider Gallery
230 W. Superior St., Chicago

And if you haven't been to the Cultural Center yet (or experienced any of the multitude of side events coinciding with) to see Sic Transit Gloria Mundi, first of all shame on you, second of all you have only one week left. The show chronicles the span of works from Industry of the Ordinary (aka the collaborative duo Adam Brooks and Matthew Wilson), whose work takes many forms but is predominantly performative and often seeks to rope the viewer into the act. In a similar spirit, the exhibition also includes countless objects, artworks and projects from other creators throughout the Chicago art world. Combined with IOTO's conceptual and ingenious use of wit and humor, the results seen in Sic Transit Gloria Mundi are often quirky, surprising, and just straight comical (in the best kind of way).

Match of the Day II, 2005

© Industry of the Ordinary (photo by Greg Stimac)

Taken as a whole, the installations, performances and collaborations further the duo's mission to provoke viewers into a wider philosophical examination of what exactly (and why exactly) we define as "ordinary" or "normal", either in art or in our everyday experiences.

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi 
works by Industry of the Ordinary, and others
ongoing thru 17 February
Chicago Cultural Center
78 E. Washington St., Chicago

A conversation with Kevin Miyazaki about his project Perimeter, opening this weekend at the Haggerty Museum of Art

In July 2011, a team of astronomers discovered the largest and oldest mass of water ever detected in the universe: a massive cloud located around a black hole 12 billion light-years away and containing an amount of water equivalent to 140 trillion times all of Earth's oceans combined. This crucial finding proved that water has been prevalent in the universe since its early beginnings.

It also indirectly helped to reinforce the scientific belief that water in liquid form is a prerequisite building block for life. To that extent, Earth (whose surface is nearly three-fourths covered by water) is the only planet confirmed thus far to be able to stabilize and sustain life forms. We can witness this sublime power in any number of ways: we use water as a resource for drinking, cooking, cleaning, recreation, irrigation, commerce, employment, and much more. We can identify on a map and trace through history the concentration of human migration and settlement around oceans, lakes, rivers and other sources. Even the human form itself is comprised mostly of water: approximately 60% of the body and 70% of the brain.

In that sense, its fascinating to think that humans have some kind of symbolic connection to water. Beyond merely our physical or proximal engagement, many people even feel a certain psychological or spiritual attraction to water: it is integral to our identity, our presence, and our experiences.

Here on the North Coast, we're fortunate to be able to project those sentiments onto our crown jewel, the Great Lakes. Over 35 million people live around the Great Lakes on the American side; taken together, the five lakes form the largest group of freshwater lakes on Earth, and hold over 20% of the world's fresh water.

The topics of fresh water and the Great Lakes are revered and addressed in an exhibition of photographs by Kevin Miyazaki opening this weekend at the Haggerty Museum of Art in Milwaukee. Titled Perimeter, the show focuses on Lake Michigan and its profound social, political and environmental importance.

Consisting of 98 prints split between portraiture and water landscape images as well as a companion catalogue with quotes from the subjects about their relationship with the lake, the exhibition is a modern-day documentation of the people living around Lake Michigan and their connection to the water. Miyazaki created the majority of the images in summer 2012 on a continuous trip to circumnavigate the 1,800-mile shore of the lake. The typological portraits were made in a portable studio he hauled along on his travels.

The works in Perimeter are very refined and systematic, revealing the artist's attention to fine details and tight compositions -- illustrated by the serialize method of portraiture with consistent lighting and background, and the repeated horizon line that perfectly bisects each waterscape and hints at the physical axis of the lake.

In the midst of installing and preparing for the exhibition, Miyazaki took some time to chat with me about the project.
(**note: all photographs below are copyright Kevin Miyazaki, from the project Perimeter. Please click images for larger view**)

GR: How did the Perimeter project come about? What drew you to the Great Lakes, to Lake Michigan, as a subject?

Kevin Miyazaki: I was approached by the Haggerty Museum of Art at Marquette University and asked to consider the Great Lakes region and fresh water as subjects for a commissioned project. I live in Milwaukee and the city has become a center for fresh water research, which reaches through the local academic, environmental and business communities.

This is an enormous body of water, with historic and growing importance to our society, so who are those that benefit most, or are hurt by our care of it? Who are those who making a livelihood from it, or experiencing spiritually from its presence? I proposed to create a contemporary portrait of Lake Michigan by photographing the people who are closest to it.

Being a university art institution, it was important to the curatorial staff at the museum that the work have educational legs - and I was excited that the project could be less introspective than most of my personal work generally has been. In addition to the exhibition, the pictures will be incorporated into a classroom curriculum about fresh water.

Its interesting that you mention this project being "less introspective than most of [your] personal work generally has been". Did you find that it affected your approach in any way, by not having that more individualized or introspective aspect inherent?
Regardless, I still think Perimeter very clearly shows your vision, and shares a lot of attributes from your other projects: the sense of place achieved through the faces and figures of its people (similar to Wisconsin Protesters), or the exploration of complicated historical/contemporary landscapes (similar to Camp Home or Fast Food), just to name a few overlaps that come to my mind. How do you see Perimeter aligning with your other personal projects?

You're right in that the practice behind this work is a continuation of the typological portrait series I've made, which started with the Wisconsin Protesters series. But by "less introspective," I'm referring to the aspect of family history and memory that runs through much of my fine art work. The approach to Perimeter, and the accessibility of the photographs, felt at times more like the editorial projects I do. My magazine work often involves portraiture, but I haven't photographed people for any of my larger, personal projects. That said, I've just started a series in 2013 called Memory Portraits, which are portraits of family members, and addresses the subject of recollected memories.

Talk about your decision to photograph all the portrait subjects against the black backdrop. In a certain way, this removes or decontextualizes them from the lake environment, yet at the same time there's also a definite power to the serialized approach, in how it focuses us directly on the human element and speaks to a larger unified view of people. Do you have a specific intent to focus the viewer's attention onto the people? Where do you place the emphasis of the human element in your project?

I’ve been making series of typological portraits for the past few years, photographing people against a neutral, black backdrop. The visual strength in this approach is in the simplicity and straightforward nature. The individual is celebrated and elevated, and when viewed collectively, the photographs truly represent a community of people. There is diversity that exists in race, gender economic status and occupation that emphasizes the fact that the lake is something we share collectively.

For this trip I built a portable photo studio out of PVC piping, which allowed me to set up and photograph people just about anywhere I found them. I photographed 277 people for the project, in all four states (Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana and Michigan) that border the lake.

What did you experience as far as the private property vs. public property divide and other similar issues of access to the water? Can you talk about what you encountered while trying to find access points to the lake?

I stayed off of all interstates (except for the Mackinac Bridge, which is technically I-75), so I really saw the lake as much as was possible by car. Not surprisingly, the areas with the least access were those with heavy industry or greater values. I was disappointed to find a fair amount of posted private roads nearest the lake. But on the other hand, some of the most gorgeous, quiet spots I found were small, well maintained county parks.

Staying on that topic, what kinds of variations did you experience with the lake in each of the four states? Or did it seem relatively uniform all around? I guess I'm thinking kinda in terms of the physical landscape (or topographic, i.e. the towering sand dunes in Michigan) as well as the social landscape (i.e. public vs. private access), etc.

It varied widely in both aspects. In Michigan and Wisconsin, where the majority of the lake exists, there was incredible beauty. As you mention, dunes, both in the southeastern and northwestern areas of Michigan, beautiful, lovely waterfront towns near Traverse City and in Door County, Wisconsin. The lake in Illinois and Indiana was proportionately much smaller. In Indiana, most of what I saw was industrial, with large, inaccessible areas taken by the steel mills and related industry. In the northern suburbs of Chicago, there was a lot of private land and inaccessibility, at least by car.

Your waterscape images certainly bring to mind Sugimoto's Seascapes, (albeit now mostly rendered in deep colors of summer). Can you talk about how/if Sugimoto's work has influenced your creative process?

I love that work by Sugimoto - it’s so still, so Japanese. But I actually didn’t intend to photograph the water and horizon until shortly before my trip began. The waterscapes reference the performative aspect of the project, the physical trip I made around the lake. I really think of them as being made on an axis, as I was always pointing my camera toward the center of the lake.

I was surprised by the variety of color that the lake and sky revealed. The lake rarely looked the same throughout different points of the day. And though it changed constantly, I’m also interested in the idea that these lake photographs could have been taken 50 years ago, or 50 years from now. Conversely, the portraits have specific visual references that make them of this time - clothing, hairstyles, etc.

While the portraits were my focus, the water is equally represented in this installation at the Haggerty Museum of Art, titled, “Mauka, Makai.” My mom was born and raised in Hawaii, and the words “mauka” and “makai” are commonly used and mean, “towards the mountains” and “towards the ocean” respectively. No matter where you are in Hawaii, those directions are quite physically evident, and that’s true for those of us that live in places bordering Lake Michigan as well.

I'm curious about your personal connection to the water. Sugimoto talks about the water being a "mystery of mysteries" yet also providing a "calming sense of security, as if visiting my ancestral home." Do you identify with any of those feelings? How would you describe your personal connection or history with Lake Michigan?

I have a greater appreciation for the lake today than I ever have, especially after meeting so many people who love it deeply. But I can’t honestly say that I’ve had a deep relationship with Lake Michigan in the past, and in that way, I’m probably quite typical of the average Milwaukeean. I love that Lake Michigan is a part of my city, find it beautiful and at times, inspiring, but have largely taken it for granted. I hope that attitude is changing, both for myself and for others.

I'd love to know more about some of the people you met, and their passion for the lake. What were some of the conversations you encountered about peoples' reverence for the lake and the value/meaning it holds in their lives?

I met such a wide variety of people, mostly for a very brief time. Because of the nature of the photo booth, I was often only with people for a few minutes at a time. But I did have memorable encounters, and one example was meeting Frank Ettawageshik, a Native American leader and water rights advocate in Harbor Springs, Michigan.

After I took his picture, we sat and talked about the lake and his heritage. He was talking about the Native American water healing song, and sang it for me proudly. When I asked about the wealthy waterfront land owners in the surrounding affluent area, and he said to me, “They think they own the land, but they don’t own the land.” This really hit home with me, as the idea of stewardship from one generation to the next was something I’d been thinking about.

I also was inspired by 4 women who each made their way around the perimeter of Lake Michigan in different manners. Loreen Neiwenhuis hiked the around the lake and wrote a book titled "A 1000-Mile Walk On The Beach". Amy Lukas and Mary Catterlin made their own dugout canoe, and proceeded to paddle it around the lake from their home in Beverly Shores, Indiana. And Chicagoan Jenn Gibbons rowed and biked around the lake to raise money and awareness for breast cancer.

(installation view, Haggerty Museum of Art)

At the same time, Lake Michigan and the other Great Lakes face a growing list of environmental struggles, pollution, invasive species, erosion control, potential water withdrawals due to extensive water demand/shortages in other areas, etc. What did you hear from people around the lake about their concerns (or possible solutions)?

I wanted to hear the subjects' thoughts about Lake Michigan, but knew that trying to gather that information in a short time wouldn’t be productive. So I contacted everyone via email and and asked for their thoughts on Lake Michigan. You can see some of their responses here.

I know you've also talked about being inspired by the tradition of a water walk, a practice which, from my understanding, has at least some of its roots in Native Americans who view the waters as the sacred life-blood of Mother Earth. You had also been carrying a jar of water from Lake Michigan along with you as you worked on this project. How did this come about, and is there a certain symbolism for you in the gesture of carrying the water?

It was a very small act, inspired by learning about the Mother Earth Water Walks, which began in 2003 by members of the Anishinawbe tribe. The walks are completed by many individual walkers and helpers, who physically carried water around the perimeter of one of the Great Lakes. I had hoped to photograph one of the Lake Michigan walk participants for the project, but unfortunately that wasn’t possible.

To reference this in a small way, I collected a little canning jar full of water on Bradford Beach in Milwaukee when I started the trip. The water kept me company for 13 days of driving, and when I reached Milwaukee 1,800 miles later, l returned the water in the same spot.

(installation view, Haggerty Museum of Art)

Miyazaki's Perimeter project will be showing alongside the exhibition Dark Blue: The Water as Protagonist, which also opens at the Haggerty this weekend and continues thru 19 May. More info here.

Perimeter 
photographs by Kevin Miyazaki
opening Friday 18 January, 5-8
continuing thru 19 May
Haggerty Museum of Art
530 N. 13th St. (at Clybourn), Milwaukee

Art Openings 1/10-1/11: DePaul Art Museum, The Museum of Contemporary Photography, Catherine Edelman Gallery

The human relationship with our surrounding natural world has always been a common subject matter in art. Undoubtedly, the awe-inducing (and perhaps at times fear-inducing) power of nature has been ripe inspiration for creative explorations of the sublime.

Recently, that artistic interest in the nature-and-human dynamic has become much more focused amidst deeply concerned investigations on the actual and measurable impact of our actions on the environment. Though seemingly controversial and vulnerable to subjective interpretations based on political agendas, science (and Mother Nature herself) would appear to be giving us very clear warnings about climate change and the concordant influence of human activity on that phenomenon. And while overall awareness of environmental issues seems to have grown rapidly in today's society, that awareness has not always translated into acknowledgement of the problem, let alone drastic changes in behavior or consumption habits -- on all levels from communities of citizens to local, state, federal, and global political and corporate entities.

Into this vacuum between awareness and action is where some artists have placed their works, in an attempt to engage audiences and challenge them to make informed decisions and actions. Three separate exhibitions opening in Chicago this week feature artist works that fall under the umbrella of those efforts.

Opening at the DePaul Art Museum tomorrow nite, the exhibition Climate of Uncertainty presents work by a group of 12 local, national and international artists who address issues of environmental degradation caused by human activity. Included here are Marissa Benedict, Edward Burtynsky, Terry Evans, Sonja Hinrichsen, Allison Grant, Chris Jordan, Maskull Lasserre, Marilyn Propp, Sabrina Raaf, Christina Seely, Daniel Shea, and Toshio Shibata.

Marsh

from the series Unsoiled

© Allison Grant

Many of the works presented are from long-term or ongoing investigations (as the topic often necessitates), and further, many hinge on the descriptive and documentary potential of photography, while also varying by individual artistic approach and experience. Across the spectrum of works, the undeniable constant is the human footprint: seen in the massive scale of production (and its direct relation to our massive consumption) illustrated in Burtynsky's images; to the tragic consequence of discarded plastic trash ingested by albatrosses on the remote Midway Atoll islands (2,000 miles from the nearest continent) captured in Jordan's photographs; to the house plants, yard waste, disposable plastic, and other everyday objects that are manipulated and reinterpreted in Grant's constructions of illusionary and artificial nature scenes.

While each artist activates their own unique strategies for establishing dialogue with the viewer and provoking informed responses, in a larger sense the exhibition as a whole shoulders the difficult task of articulating these crucial environmental concerns at a time when American society (and many other industrialized nations) seems polarized and hogtied on any serious changes towards environmental sustainability.

Coal-Fired Power Plant (Removing Mountains), 2007

© Daniel Shea

For more info about this exhibition, check out the recent WBEZ conversation with curator Laura Fatemi (interview begins at the 20-minute mark).

Climate of Uncertainty
opening Thursday 10 January, 5-7pm
continuing thru 24 March
DePaul Art Museum
935 W. Fullerton Ave., Chicago

Beginning on Friday, the Museum of Contemporary Photography presents Taxonomy of a Landscape, an exhibition of photographs and ephemera from artist Victoria Sambunaris.

Untitled (Distant steam vents, Yellowstone), 2008

© Victoria Sambunaris

Her color photographs of the ever-changing American landscape reveal very directly how humans have manipulated the land for our own needs, and thus directly imposing our presence into the natural environment.

On another level, the sweeping feeling of scale that a viewer gets from her large images (shot with a 5x7 view camera), and the vast open expanses of the American landscape, represent a traditional metaphor for the sense of possibility and opportunity that often characterize the American experience. Unfortunately though, a modern-day look at how we've divided and ravaged that landscape is both as awe-inspiring and fear-inducing as any common view of pristine nature. For indeed, Sambunaris' photographs are a stark contrast between the grandeur and beauty of American lands versus the hideous ramifications of our equally grandiose capitalistic ambitions.
In the artist's words:

"It is the anomalies of an ordinary landscape that have become the locus of my work: massive warehousing, infinite distribution facilities, and systematized shipping terminals. These numerous paradigmatic structures, I sense, portend the future of landscape and our relationship to it."

The exhibition also includes her photographic explorations of the 2,000-mile U.S.-Mexico border and the hotbed issue of immigration and tension of border patrol, as well as ephemeral objects collected during her 10+ years criss-crossing the country on these projects.

Untitled (Farm with workers, Jacumba, California), 2010

© Victoria Sambunaris

Taxonomy of a Landscape 
works by Victoria Sambunaris
11 January - 31 March
Museum of Contemporary Photography
600 S. Michigan Ave., Chicago

And thirdly, another photography exhibition worth checking out this weekend is Sami, The People That Walk With Reindeer by Erika Larsen, showing at Catherine Edelman Gallery.

A nomadic people of the Arctic Circle in northern Scandinavia and Russia, the Sami continue an ancestral way of living that is wholly influenced by the environment. Largely surviving by herding reindeer, the lives of the Sami are shaped by the animals' seasonal migrations.

Among Buocut (2009)

from the series Sami, The People That Walk With Reindeer

© Erika Larsen

As the Sami have a very direct and symbiotic (not to mention largely dependent, in some ways) relationship with nature, they have become acutely aware of changes in the environment. Larsen's documentation of their lives reminds us of a certain converse in the dynamic of human interaction with the environment: here, humans have been forced to adapt to nature, instead of molding the environment to fit man's needs.

Larsen spent more than four years documenting the Sami people, immersing herself in their communities and culture by working as a housekeeper for a Sami family. The continued existence of Sami communities may prove to be dependent on environmental sustainability issues such as biodiversity, availability of water, wildlife management, and forest stability -- and as such, their lives in the Arctic Circle place them at/near the front lines of the climate change struggles in ways that the rest of the world only experiences anecdotally.

Johan and Cammu (2009)

from the series Sami, The People That Walk With Reindeer

© Erika Larsen

Sami, The People That Walk With Reindeer 
photographs by Erika Larsen
opening Friday 11 January, 5-8pm
continuing thru 2 March
Catherine Edelman Gallery
300 W. Superior St., Chicago

Self-Guided Tour into the future and beyond

Chenoa, Illinois. November 2012

Much of this past summer and autumn have been spent on developing and refining some personal projects and other endeavors, so Self-Guided Tour has not received as much of my attention as in the past. The ways in which I disseminate content and construct the site have gone thru some changes, and more will be on the way in the coming year. So stay tuned, this project is very much alive and I'm excited about some of the new possibilities ahead.
And as a small matter of housekeeping, some of you might already know that I also send out a periodic newsletter that is specific to my own photographic work and other related projects of mine. If you'd like to be on the mailing list to receive the newsletters, please send me an email (thru my website). My final newsletter of 2012 will be going out very soon. And as always, keep an eye on my other site Society of Spectacles to see my ongoing projects, works-in-progress, outtakes, etc., as well as some inspirators, tangential babbling and other photo/art goodness...

Requests from Solitary / Tamms Year Ten, at Sullivan Galleries

The expanded use of solitary confinement in domestic prisons in the U.S. has not come without its fair share of scandal and controversy, for example drawing condemnation from the ACLU as human rights abuse, or from the United Nations -- and even organizations that represent the interests of crime victims' families -- who have stated that the practice is tantamount to torture.

Among the more notorious practitioners of this psychological torture and sensory deprivation is the Tamms supermax prison in southern Illinois, which keeps all of its inmates in permanent solitary confinement. The prison opened in 1998 and was actually originally designed to use solitary only as a short-term incarceration method ("shock treatment", as the Department of Corrections called it). However, now more than a decade later, many of the prisoners housed there are still in long-term isolation.

In response to this issue, the grassroots coalition Tamms Year Ten was formed to protest the use of long-term solitary confinement and call for legislative reform of the prison. As part of their efforts, the organization established contact with a number of Tamms prisoners in solitary confinement and allowed them to request a photograph of anything they'd like to see from the outside world (or even an illustration of an idea from their imagination).

The resulting photographs are included in the new exhibition Requests from Solitary, part of the Tamms Year Ten efforts that are currently ongoing at Sullivan Galleries at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. As part of the exhibition and photographic project, the gallery will be hosting a panel discussion this Saturday (17 November) from 2-5pm, facilitated by Claire Pentecost, photography professor at SAIC. The panel will include photographers discussing their work on the project, as well as former prisoners at Tamms (and family members of past/current prisoners) detailing their experiences.

(Bronzeville neighborhood, Chicago)

I was honored to have been part of the group of photographers who participated in this project/exhibition and fulfilled requests from the prisoners in isolation. I created one set of images requested of the remnants of the Robert Taylor Homes public housing project, as well as two other requests. Check out my tumblr page Society of Spectacles to get a peek at a few other images from the project that I'll be posting this week.

(site of the former Robert Taylor Homes, with newly built condos in the distance)

Requests from Solitary / Tamms Year Ten 
exhibition ongoing; panel discussion Saturday 17 November, 2-5pm
Sullivan Galleries at SAIC
33 S. State St., 7th floor, Chicago

(**addendum: NPR in Chicago also did a piece about the exhibition, including myself and other photographers discussing their work on the project. Go here to listen.**)

To read further about the issues surrounding solitary confinement and efforts to document the conditions, I highly recommend the piece Where Are All the Photographs of Solitary Confinement? written this week on Pete Brook's site Prison Photography (which, if you weren't already aware of it, is a crucial resource on a wide array of topics relating to photography and incarceration).

Last and certainly not least, there's an extremely insightful interview with Bernard Harcourt (professor of political science at the University of Chicago and author of the 2011 book The Illusion of Free Markets) in the summer 2012 issue of Cabinet Magazine, where Harcourt discusses public policy responses to social problems, particularly focused on the stark paradox between the American obsession with small government and an unregulated free market -VS.- the expansively oppressive and draconian nature of our government-run prison system in the U.S. The piece is titled Punishment and the Myth of Natural Order; its a very fascinating conversation, check it out here.

Art Openings 11/2-11/3: The Coat Check Gallery, Schneider Gallery, Johalla Projects (plus check out Mark Wagner's ongoing show at Western Exhibitions)

Greetings to the new kid on the block as The Coat Check space joins the photo gallery world in Chicago this Friday nite with its inaugural exhibition Everyday Always Trying, featuring works by Matt Austin, Bobby Doherty, David Brandon Geeting, and Bobby Scheidemann.

from the series Talking with Fear about Dying Tomorrow

© Matt Austin

Everyday Always Trying is largely focused on the artists' visual approach as makers: frequently utilizing a quick impulsive reaction to photographic possibilities, their images echo a certain vernacular snapshot aesthetic that reinforces their often highly intimate attachments to the surroundings/characters that form the content in much of their works. Eschewing a more calculated or preconceived visual methodology, they instead rely more on spontaneity and intuition to capture fleeting scenes that provoke further contemplation about the world around them -- be it Austin's documentation of seemingly insignificant gestures as our attempts at communication, Doherty's loose compositions and wanderings inspired by street photography, Geeting's improvisational arrangements based on boredom and middle class luxuries, or Scheidemann's assemblages and investigations of benign personal objects.

from the series Leaky Faucet Metronome

© David Brandon Geeting

In addition to framed prints on the wall, the exhibition will also include a running slideshow of additional images by each photographer as well as a free takeaway newsprint featuring interviews with the four artists by Sixty Inches From Center.

The Coat Check is a new photographic space and curatorial project by Matthew Avignone and David Weinberg Photography, and will focus on showcasing young emerging artists. Keep an eye on this crew!

Everyday Always Trying 
photographs by Matt Austin, Bobby Doherty, David Brandon Geeting, and Bobby Scheidemann
opening Friday 2 November, 5-8:30pm
The Coat Check (at David Weinberg Photography)
300 W. Superior St., ste. 203, Chicago

Also on Friday nite and right down the street in River North, Schneider Gallery will be opening a retrospective of the works of Luis Gonzalez Palma, highlighting vintage material from the past 20 years of the Latin American artist's practice.

Escena 6

© Luis Gonzalez Palma

Originally trained as an architect and later a cinematographer, Gonzalez Palma's lush photographic efforts have become widely revered for the poetically psychological and metaphorical imagery he creates, incorporating his own handmade painterly techniques with toners, varnishes and other sources to manipulate the print surface (often taking advantage of the unique attributes of watercolor paper).

La invencion del mito (The invention of myth)

© Luis Gonzalez Palma

Luis Gonzalez Palma retrospective
opening Friday 2 November, 5-7:30pm
Schneider Gallery
230 W. Superior St., Chicago

Returning to ideas of the everyday, banal, vernacular, etc., artist Ian Whitmore tackles similar notions in his solo show titled Nowhere, opening this Saturday nite at Johalla Projects. Whitmore trains his camera on details of the predictable and featureless built environment that continues to gluttonously devour more and more of our civic landscape, and asks questions about the usefulness, aesthetic worth, and overall psychological impact of these man-made constructions -- further imploring a discussion on how our asphalted aspirations and big-boxed braggadocio fit into an evolving definition of "progress" (especially when framed in terms of sustainability).

Nowhere #14307, 2010

© Ian Whitmore

Whitmore's photographs in Nowhere seem decidedly patient and slowed-down (especially compared to the from-the-hip feel of the artists in the Everyday Always Trying show mentioned above), as though he took a meticulous, careful analysis of his scenes as he photographed, and as such asks the viewer to do the same. Indeed, part of the act of seeing these landscapes (both as artist and audience) is the heightened recognition that these are otherwise commonplace and non-descript scenes surrounding us constantly, thus exaggerating the conflation between notions of "everywhere" and "nowhere".

I'm particularly intrigued by that concept of "nowhere-ness", and curious to see it appearing very frequently in discussions on suburban sprawl and the corporate homogenization of our contemporary American landscape -- as the arching title of Jeff Brouws' photographic exploration on the topic in Approaching Nowhere, or repeated in the hilariously acerbic rantings of notorious sprawl hater James Howard Kunstler and his book The Geography of Nowhere (a definitive must-read for any students of the subject), just to name a few quick examples. In that context, Whitmore's series joins some good company in agonizing over our increasingly ambiguous and disoriented (or entirely lost altogether) sense of place/location in the modern age.

Nowhere #9904, 2009

© Ian Whitmore

In addition to his photographs at Johalla Projects, the gallery will also be presenting some of Whitmore's artist books from his massive 26-part series Onomasticon: A Vocabulary for Nowhere, which explores neglection and abstraction through landscape and language. Further, a selection of the photographs from Nowhere have been recently installed as part of a public art exhibition at the Damen station on the CTA Blue Line, where they will be displayed for the next two months.

Nowhere
photographs and artist books by Ian Whitmore
opening Saturday 3 November, 7-11pm
Johalla Projects
1821 W. Hubbard St., ste. 209, Chicago

Last but certainly not least, in the run-up to next week's presidential election that I'm sure we're all waiting on with baited breath, I thought it appropriate to add in a suggestion to check out the show Voting With Your Pocketbook, works by Mark Wagner, that opened last week at Western Exhibitions.

Wagner is a prolific artist who often uses the US Dollar as his material -- drawing, painting, or printing on, or cutting or otherwise manipulating the bills into various collage forms. This act of subversion ultimately renders the bill down to its simplest definition: merely ink on paper (or, as The Onion once comically lampooned, "a Symbolic, Mutually Shared Illusion").

Mr. Handshake's Last Gasp, 2010

© Mark Wagner

The centerpiece of the exhibition is surely the portraits of Barack Obama and Mitt Romney, installed side by side in a stylized voting booth, their features crafted entirely (and literally) out of money -- a fitting metaphor to describe the pathetic spectacle that currently passes for democracy in America, where in the wake of Citizens United, Super PACs and anonymous dark money funding the campaigns, one can't help but wonder if the entire election process is up for sale and next week's results just might send us over the edge into complete and utter corporatocracy. Enjoy!

installation view: Voting With Your Pocketbook at Western Exhibitions

© Mark Wagner

Voting With Your Pocketbook
works by Mark Wagner
ongoing thru 8 December
Western Exhibitions
845 W. Washington Blvd., 2nd floor, Chicago

Art Openings 10/4-10/6: Museum of Contemporary Photography, LVL3 Gallery (plus photo/art stuff going crazy all thru October)

A few months ago I featured a conversation here with Chicago artist Daniel Shea, showing and discussing a fresh series of photographs, sculpture, and collage work, and his new project Blisner, Ill.

from Blisner, Ill.

© Daniel Shea

Blisner, Ill. is concerned with the history and remains of a single Rust Belt town during the process of deindustrialization, and contributes to a larger conversation (and perhaps somewhat dystopian vision) on American industry. The project's operative theme becomes that of mythology (which is perhaps to say, the mythologized version of the history of a place and its people), whereby politics and specificity have been sacrificed in the process of myth creation; Shea's work asks us to consider the cognitive and emotional ramifications of that process. As such, his key strategy is comprised of two interrelated devices: on the one hand, conflating research documents with the artist's creations, and on the other hand, constructing a narrative of Blisner as a fictional place merged from the respective sites and histories of an urban industrial area on Chicago's south side and that of a rural industrial town downstate in southern Illinois.

Be sure to see my conversation with Shea to read more about deindustrialization, mythology, and other details about his project. And perhaps more importantly, getting to the relevance of this entry: as we originally noted, selects from Blisner, Ill. were also in the works for exhibition and publication of his first monograph in the near future -- and that time is now, as the Museum of Contemporary Photography will host an exhibition and book release of Blisner, Ill. this Thursday nite (**please note that this is a one-nite only event, so be sure not to miss it**).

Blisner, Ill.

© Daniel Shea

The book was designed by Morgan Brill and produced this past summer while Shea was the Digital Artist in Residence in the photography department at Columbia College. Find out more about the book and pre-order information here.

Blisner, Ill. exhibition and book release
works by Daniel Shea
Thursday 4 October, 4-8pm (**one nite only**)
Museum of Contemporary Photography
600 S. Michigan Ave., Chicago

Elsewhere in photo-related works in Chicago this week, LVL3 Gallery opens a new exhibition on Saturday evening titled Falling Short, featuring artists Andrey Bogush, Ryan Feeney, and Bea Fremderman. The group show explores our perceptual ideas of success and failure within an idealized setting -- one that often becomes littered with imperfections.

© Bea Fremderman

Starting from a background in photographic practice, each artist utilizes evolved methods to confront the illusory nature of perfection: be it Bogush's digitally altered objects challenging our original perceptions, Fremderman's restructuring of benign corporate office materials provoking questions about freedom vs. control in bureaucratic settings, or Feeney's probing of image culture and memory and how they affect our experiences.

from the series Color Pickers

© Andrey Bogush

Falling Short 
works by Andrey Bogush, Ryan Feeney and Bea Fremderman
opening Saturday 6 October, 6-10pm
LVL3 Gallery
1542 N. Milwaukee Ave., 3rd floor, Chicago

Count those exhibitions among a long list of shows to see in October; a few other ongoing photo-related events and exhibitions worth a look this month include:

Untitled IIT #1 (2012)

© Michael Pfisterer

Beyond the Garden of Cyrus 
photographs by Michael Pfisterer
ongoing thru 6 October
Devening Projects 
3039 W. Carroll Ave., Chicago

Hands III, 2012

© John Opera

People, Places, and Things 
works by John Opera
ongoing thru 27 October
Andrew Rafacz Gallery 
835 W. Washington Blvd., Chicago

ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE (Installed and Abandoned, Chicago, IL), 2012
© Joel Ross and Jason Creps

Alleys and Parking Lots 
works by Joel Ross and Jason Creps
ongoing thru 27 October
Monique Meloche Gallery 
2154 W. Division St., Chicago

Further, in Chicagoland photo world mark your calendar for mid-October for the Filter Photo Festival, a week-long series of exhibitions, gallery talks, artist lectures, photo book fair, portfolio reviews, workshops, and more. Check out their website for the details, or download their full schedule.

So on top of all that, perhaps it comes as no surprise that October is also time for Chicago Artists Month -- see their website and schedule for an additional group of exhibitions affiliated with those efforts.

A conversation with Jason Lazarus about his project Phase 1 (Intersections of Art and Politics, pt. 2)

Continuing with the series of occasional writings I recently began (go here for pt. 1) about the myriad intersections between art and politics, with this week marking the one-year anniversary of the initial Occupy Wall Street demonstrations that brought the U.S. movement in line with other large global protests gaining steam last year, I thought it appropriate to talk with Chicago artist Jason Lazarus about his series Phase 1.

As a small matter of housekeeping, let me first re-emphasize that I don't approach these writings with any assertion that an artist's intentions are strictly/inherently political or activist by nature, as I'm obviously in no position (nor find it entirely valuable in regards to enhancing our understanding/regard/dialogue with the artist's work) to speculate on their motivations or to pigeonhole the wide range of their overall output. Instead, what I am acutely interested in is exploring the ways in which art reflects and interacts with the political/sociopolitical sphere and how artists navigate thru those channels, and also in ultimately examining and helping to propel the discourses that an active artistic engagement with those ideas can encourage among a broader audience.

Lazarus' series Phase 1 derives its name from conversations between Adbusters collaborators Kalle Lasn and Micah White, who established camps, meetings, marches and signs as "Phase 1" of the OWS effort and its occupation of Zuccotti Park. Using online photo documentation of OWS and other Occupy demonstrations around the world, Lazarus has, both alone in the studio and collaboratively with the public, meticulously re-created protest signs to create a massive archive representing the spectrum of voices and locations the Occupy movement has affected. In the process, he also raises interesting questions not only about the protests themselves, but also about contemporary art production and the role of photography (especially digital photography in the Internet age).

studio installation, 2011
from the Phase 1 project
© Jason Lazarus

Lazarus began the project in late 2011 as a visiting artist at the University of South Florida in Tampa, prompting collaborations with students and community members and eventually orchestrating and staging an occupation and dialogue at USF using the re-created protest signs; he also later hosted a parallel schedule of group events this spring in Chicago as part of Version Fest 12.

Bill Ayers leading a discussion on art and politics as part of Phase 1, at Version Fest 12
(photo courtesy of Jason Lazarus)

I'd be remiss not to point out that Lazarus is often referred to as more of a "cultural producer", and I'll echo that term for its efforts in trying to accurately reflect the vast scope of his artistic practice, which utilizes photography, collected and appropriated imagery, sculpture, site-specific installations, archiving, text-based works, and other forms to examine our cultural, political, and historical landscape. Lazarus received his MFA in photography from Columbia College in 2003; since then, his work has been exhibited nationally and internationally in a list so extensive that I won't even dream of typing up here for fear of my incurring carpal tunnel symptoms. Lazarus is represented in the U.S. by Andrew Rafacz Gallery, with whom he'll be installing his series Sarasota Photomat for exhibition this week at Expo Chicago. In addition, Lazarus is slated for an upcoming solo show titled A Constant State of Becoming, in February 2013 at the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago. That exhibition will include his Phase 1 series as well as other recent and newer projects.

Occupy University of South Florida at Tampa public display and occupation
from the Phase 1 project
© Jason Lazarus

GR: I'm curious about the background and formation of your Phase 1 project, and the decision-making process that led you there: how did you arrive at working on this series and choosing the Occupy protest signage as your subject matter? Was there something specific about the topic that drew you to it? Something specific about the Occupy movement or the protest signs?

Jason Lazarus: The project I think began as wanting to engage in the flood of digital imagery that accompanies large cultural phenomena. How do you slow it down? Is that documentation enough when it's digital? Online? How will the future encounter this history? Is there meaning to be gained by a digital to analog shift?
Also, if Occupy is an amalgam and somewhat undefinable, the pleas that shape the movement can be found in the signs, in all their disparate aesthetics, messaging, paradigms, and strategies.

The notion of "how will the future encounter this history," I think speaks to the power of what you're doing now in archiving these protest signs. Do you see them living on as political and historical relics? How does their efficacy change over time?

I'm always thinking about a long arc of time and have faith in time passing as a multiplier in the meanings/relevance/profundity that may or may not be apparent in a project that some might consider almost too topical, a fad, trendy, etc… I am also recently an uncle for the first time which tilts the axis of making for me… I think about him now when I'm making things and thinking about time…

Phase 1 installation at Version Fest 12
(photo courtesy of Jason Lazarus)

In another one of your archive-related projects, Too Hard to Keep, there seems to be a sense of commemoration or memorial -- is there something similar going on in Phase 1? Or maybe Phase 1 takes on other elements: education, analysis, political engagement, call to action?

Certainly the threads all lead back to me. I'm excited about these two projects existing simultaneously because they are very different in terms of the continuum of private/public and travel that continuum in different directions at times (after all we are all emotional and political entities). Too Hard to Keep presents private photos in a public context, and Phase 1 slows/quiets/revisits the publicness of OWS into a more contemplative space.
Last, MCA Chicago will host the project in early 2013 and in that exhibition, public visitors will be able to take some of the signs off the wall and carry them around the museum with them as they view the other exhibitions! This creates a new set of important possibilities for participating/viewing/politicizing/collaborating/re-history making…

How do you see the Phase 1 project in relation to your larger artistic practice? Are you drawing from any particular aspects of your lexicon in this new endeavor? Some overlaps that jump out to me immediately are the focus on individual narratives within a larger cultural/political/historical context, as well as your continued exploration of archiving.

Yes it has everything to do with the last number of years: an engagement with politics, the private/public weave of narratives, curating, archiving, collaboration, handwriting, etc. It's a natural growth of everything before. There's more to come as well!

Another recurrent idea that seems readily apparent in Phase 1 is the interplay of text vs. image. I'm curious about the dynamics of protest signs, the collaboration between how the sign's message is created and signified thru chosen text AND any visual aesthetics or techniques that aid in enhancing that text and delivering the message. And even the many signs with words but no images, where the text selection by itself becomes a strong communicator without the need for any greater visual cues -- which strikes me as somewhat similar to your Orion Over Baghdad series, yet these protest signs take it to a higher level because we can analyze the handwritten words alone for their differences in font, handwriting style, materials used, etc. How do you see the text vs. image relationship playing out in the protest signs in Phase 1?

All of the variations in the weight or presence of text over image (or vice versa) reveal that when we're presented with little information (visually or textually) we have a collective consciousness of history that is idiosyncratic AND shared, a rolodex of content we bring to negative space that is very potent. As an artist I appreciate those gaps and understand their power.

tracing a protest sign, during Phase 1 at Version Fest 12
(photo courtesy of Jason Lazarus)

Looking at the source material for the signs you've chosen to re-create, do you see an inherent artfulness in what they've made? As if the protestors are enacting a personal creative impulse carried out and manifest thru the signs. Do you get any sense of how the protestors feel about the role of art in political resistance? As you've worked on Phase 1, have you had any conversations with Occupy protestors about this idea, or about how they interact with art?

I've been to Occupy in Tampa, NYC, and Chicago and have never been asked about this… I go as an occupier who is an artist who is an American. That said, I think there is a fragile economy of protest that requires signs to have a speedy making or embellished making. What's important at a given time? Hitting the streets NOW? Or prioritizing a specific message and making it a focal point among many? To me the speedy ones have as much artfulness as the embellished, because the speed is the political act that I think is artful.

I understand you have an undergrad degree in marketing from DePaul. Many of your projects (and especially Phase 1) show that you're well aware of the power of language. Surely there are some overlaps in the pointed uses (dare I say propaganda?) of words & images among the Occupy signs (or protests in general) AND how commercial/profit-motivated entities market their products and interests -- despite the obvious individual-versus-corporation power struggle implied therein. As such, it seems to me that while your marketing background might inform your work in Phase 1 (in the understanding and command of language), concurrently there's also this rejection or subversion (almost a detournement, perhaps) of those conventions. Can you speak to this?

When I graduated from DePaul I started working in the non-profit marketing sector for a pretty great theatre company. Even with their amazing cultural contribution, I still felt two things: I wanted to author/develop my own ideas instead of trumpeting others, and second, the world has too many salesmen. So I changed everything.
Now I'm implicated in another market, the art world, that I'm trying to navigate ears-perked-up. I think at this point I can honestly say I fetishize handmade signs because they represent the individual, the unsponsored, the underrepresented… they are the antithesis of ubiquitous, group-created, overly-underly researched, over-produced marketing messages.

from the Phase 1 project
© Jason Lazarus

I recently came across an interview with Robert Adams where he was asked about the role of an artist in society, to which he replied:

"First we have an obligation to be the citizens we want everyone to be - informed, engaged, reasonable, and compassionate. Then as artists we are called historically to a double mission, to instruct and delight, to tell the truth but also to find in it a basis for affirmation."
(--Robert Adams, in an interview at the Hasselblad Foundation)

Obviously, discerning the artist's role is tricky territory (and even Adams had admitted to his own difficulties in answering the question), but I wonder if there's anything in Adams' response that resonates with you either in a general sense or something specific about your own artistic practice?

Instruct, delight, and truth are all words that I am wary of, to be honest… let me try something else: Artists have the freedom to employ the stomach, heart, and brain equally in their making, and to employ GRACE, which I will not explain…
To me, the artist's role is to claw into and maintain this role with all the vigor and integrity they can over the longest period of time they can. The output of a lifetime of an artist's work is tantamount to witnessing an ambitious philosophical text/experiment and it is an answer/non-answer to the question of 'how do we exist?'