I found the musing on “place” in the article Place – The first of All Things to be quite interesting.  I guess I never really have thought about what makes a place a “place” and not just a “site.”  A “place” encompasses the viewer’s emotions and feelings and memories.  This article and the ideas held within relates to my adventures today.

Today, I went to Down’s Park to set up my items for Project 2′s photos.  I used to go to Down’s Park as a child, so there are a lot of family and childhood memories tied to this place.  That’s one reason why it’s a “place” and not a “site.”  I saw the remains of a rotted out tree which I used to call the “lizard tree” because there were always little creatures climbing in it’s holes.   I was planning on placing my items there for my project, but when I saw that it had either been cut down or fell down and was cleared away, I was a little sadden.  Now had this area been the same as I remembered it and if I had put my objects in this area and taken photos, no one would think of this as a place where a lot of creatures had called home.  No one would think of the excitement that came along with seeing a scampering lizard on this tree as I approached as a child.  Many people would just see a rotted tree and maybe it would make them sad.  Or maybe someone would be grossed out by this tree because they are afraid of spiders and they think that this tree is the perfect place for spiders.  

The park was filled with people today and they all were there for different reasons and they all held different memories and experiences of this place.  This article made me think that by choosing the park to display my objects, I am both opening up and limiting my images to my viewer.  The article mentions that art has a limitation of the visual.  You can only show so much with photos or paintings or film.  You can’t always elicit the response that you intend because of people’s own connections and memories of the objects or location of your art.  

Another interesting thing I found out from reading this article is that landscapes are the most popular of the major genres in visual arts.  Maybe this is because it is human nature to associate these depictions of the land with previous experiences and memories we have?  Landscapes allow the viewer to “place” himself or herself into the work’s world.  

James Joyce wrote that “places remember events.”  Is this so, or do events make a place what it is?  Sure the landscape of a place might reflect an event, like a hurricane or bombing, but people’s memories of the place before the event and their feelings towards the place after the event define the place.

The article mentioned a quote from the Taoist Philosopher Chuang-Tse.  He remarked, “Everybody knows that the useful is useful, but nobody knows that the useless is useful too.”  I think that artists realize the usefulness of useless objects best.  In class, some of us are using things that would otherwise just be discarded.  We have also seen examples of artists who use “trash” to create their works.  Using “used” water bottles not only can make a visually successful piece but also be useful in bringing the viewers attention to consumption and it’s effects on the environment.

Knowing what makes a location a “place” helps the artist see what locations will make a good setting for their sculptural pieces and allow the artist to manipulate that place for their viewers.

The first thing that struck me about Tom Friedman, while viewing his pieces and reading this article, was the link between the viewer’s believe and the piece itself.  A lot of Friedman’s pieces call upon the viewer to either wholly trust the artist’s statements about his pieces and the processes in which they were made or to question the truth and logic behind the art.  For example, the piece 1,000 Hours of Staring (1992-97), in which the artist has hung a blank piece of paper that he claims he has stared out for 1,000 hours.  Of course, unless one has spent time studying Friedman studying this paper in his studio for the hours, one cannot be certain that he has actually stared at this blank paper for the alloted amount of time.  When I first saw a picture of this piece in a book, my immediate reaction was, “did he really stare at this for 1,000 hours?”  Maybe he skimped on a few minutes here and there?  Another example of this trust that the viewer has to place into the artist is seen in Untitled (A Curse) (1992).  An at-first-glance empty pedestal holds a ball of air that has been cursed by a witch.  This piece not only asks the viewer to trust that the artist actually got a witch to curse the space but also asks the viewer if they believe in curses or witches.  The artist asks the viewer to place a belief in an ordinary object and this belief affects the way the viewer perceives the piece.  

Another thing that strikes me about Tom Friedman is the fact that a lot of his pieces only develop meaning through the understanding of how they are made.  Many of his pieces only develop their meaning to the viewer through the statements of how they were constructed.  For example, upon just viewing the piece Hot Balls, the viewer sees a collection of varying sizes of rubber balls.  The viewer can appreciate the different colors and sizes of the balls upon just viewing the piece.  After the viewer reads that the piece was constructed by balls that Friedman stole over a period of 6 months, the piece begins to take on a new meaning.  What if I presented you with a glass bottle on a pedestal?  You might note the smoothness and color of the glass.  You might comment on the size of the bottle.  Now what if I told you that I whispered my deepest secrets into the bottle?  These revelations bring a kind of specialness to an object that you at first thought was “ordinary.”

In the interview, Friedman says, “I think everyone looks at things based on what they know.  Even things that are unfamiliar, the translate them into something they can understand.”  These statements reminded me of how during our first project critique, everyone was comparing the sculptures to common things, such as “this looks like fungus” or “this looks like mold.”  Of course we are going to do this!  From the beginning of our lives, we’ve been comparing and associating things.  As children we molded play dough into dogs and stacked legos to look like spaceships.  Perhaps you’ve looked at clouds and turned them into faces?  We are programed to categorize things to make the world easier to understand.  Most of the time are first thoughts on a piece are going to be what it’s look compares to in our world.  I think it’s great that Friedman realizes this fact and uses it to his advantage in his pieces.

The last thing I want to comment on in relation to these interviews is the idea of repetition.  Hudson points out the fact that many people think of Friedman’s work as having an “obsessive nature.”  A lot of Friedman’s work consists of repetition and pattern, such as Untitled (1997) which uses marker pen bleeding to create and weblike image.  This repetition comments on the nature of what makes an object “ordinary.”  Ordinary refers to something that we see a lot of.  How many times a day do you see a plastic water bottle?  Let’s say I see 10 plastic water bottles throughout my day.  I think nothing of it.  Now let’s say those same 10 plastic water bottles are glued to a wall.  We see so many of the same objects over and over again but don’t really think about what that means until we see them repeated in a piece of artwork.  

I think a lot of Tom Friedman’s work is very interesting.  My favorite is probably the splattered construction paper human.  It’s entitled Untitled (2000) and I have included a pic below.  I have only had the opportunity to view the pieces in books and in pictures on the internet, but I’m interested in how I would react to some of them in person.

The above quote is from the film, Ghost World.

I’m starting the page for my 3D design art class.   But maybe I’ll really get into it?