Andrea Fraser
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Andrea Fraser
Reframing Rejection
[tl;dr by reframing rejection, I have learned how to manage my emotional response to rejection better and turn applications into conversations] I am not a person who handles rejection well.That’s probably an understatement. Even the smallest rejections can send me spiraling into all sorts of icky thoughts. I know it’s completely unreasonable, that rejection is just a thing that happens…
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5. Art worlds
Howard Becker, in his book Art Worlds, defines an art world as networks of cooperation that produce what they consider to be art. Art worlds tend to be created in relation to their cultural environment. Aesthetic conflicts often occur within these art worlds between both the artists and their supporters in the process of creating art. However, the artist’s dependence on these cooperative links and established conventions of what art often constrain the artists in these disputes. Overall, the mutual appreciation of the conventions and the aesthetic standards within these art worlds make artists feel that what they are doing is valuable.
This connects to the concept of taste makers as art worlds essentially create artwork that aligns with the standards that taste makers set. Therefore, the standards established by the taste maker not only impact whether or not individuals purchase the commodity to gain dignity but also define the networks of cooperation necessary for its creation. The connection between these two concepts symbolizes a bridge into the realm of cultural production.
When I first read about the concept, I thought about the show “How It’s Made.” I envisioned different machines and factory workers in an assembly line. Each doing their part to construct the cultural product. During the class discussion, however, I realized that art worlds go beyond the actual construction of the cultural product, as it involves the construction of the resources necessary to create it as well. In the future, I plan on applying the concept whenever I purchase goods. I will take a moment to consider the different networks of cooperation that were involved in its creation.
6. Genre
According to Wagner-Pacifici and Schwartz, in their publication The Vietnam Veterans Memorial: Commemorating a Difficult Past, a genre is a kind of scheme that organizes perception. They "express the changing character of their creators, audiences, and contexts" (Wagner-Pacifici and Schwartz, 1991). To exemplify this, the authors reflect on the issues that came about during the construction of the Vietnam War monument. Before a commemorative cultural object, such as a monument, can be created, there has to be an agreement in what it represents among the creators and the audience. However, because the Vietnam War had developed a negative reputation, the purpose of the monument shifted from it being created to remember a dishonorable war to it being constructed to honor those who lost their lives in it. A shift in the monument's genre thus enabled it to be constructed (Wagner-Pacifici and Schwartz, 1991). This event also conveys how genres shift with the changing beliefs of both its inventors and wider society.
This concept relates to art worlds and taste makers as all three have a hand in the production of cultural goods. Taste makers define what genres may be applied to gain dignity. A majority comes together to agree on a genre, then art worlds carry out the design and construction of the cultural product. Genre also relates back to the theme of meaning-making. In this case, the normative expectations of what a monument represents were not applicable, therefore, the meaning of the memorial had to be changed.
While learning about this concept, I thought it was interesting how the theme behind a cultural product needed to be agreed upon before its construction. Although this may sound like such an obvious fact, its impact on the existence of a product and the collective process of genre defining and redefining was something that I had never considered. I was always so focused on the product’s construction within a factory, not so much on the meaning-making that takes place in regard to what the object represents. In the future, I plan to apply this concept whenever I take part in group work and am negotiating theme of the project with my peers. I will recognize that as a form of meaning-making and our defining a genre is used daily in constructing culture.
Art Worlds - Gold Standard Review
Within the Gold Standard exhibit are highlighted works from alumni of VCUarts from the past decade in order to show their development as professional artists over the course of the years since their graduation. Out of these pieces, there is one in a back corner spread across the floor, an untitled creation from Dana Ollstead and Janelle Proulx. It is a circular maze comprised of straight and rounded lines of salt on the floor with a round cushion in the center. There is a small arrow created out of salt as well, beckoning the viewer to enter the maze, which circles around the inner area with the cushion at first and works its way out around the circle until it finally curves back inwards, leading to the center. There are speakers hanging on the walls around the maze, and there is a speaker within the cushion, although the viewer cannot hear the sounds that are emanating from either until they step foot in the labyrinth. The consistent sounds coming from the cushion beckon the viewer further into the maze, as the path passes closely to it at first and one can almost make out the words that are being said before the path turns away from it. The speakers on the walls are not so immediately noticeable, as they are only intermediately creating sounds that could possibly be heard anyway, creaking and clanking and other household noises. As the viewer turns the last bend to the center of the maze, they can hear what it is actually saying, although it is the most clear if the person actually sits on the cushion. It is a dignified, almost automated female voice giving instructions as if they are being read from a cookbook, giving recipes and home remedies for anything from food to increasing the financial income of a business, all problems that can be fixed with only the right amount of salt, or with salt and minimal other ingredients. The recipes are constant and on an endless loop, but there are quite a few before it begins to repeat itself. To me, the untitled circle of salt was a source of comfort. Salt, in general, is supposedly a pure element and way to disperse evil within the soul and within an area. Circles of salt are supposed to be areas of peace, where the darkness of the world cannot penetrate and there is purity. Even some of the solutions that the cushion was reciting were methods of dispelling evil from the household or the soul by placing salt at doorways or consuming certain amounts. To me, the almost arbitrary household noises did not quite sound like a homely household, but more of an abandoned one, like the darkness that surrounds the circle of salt, and the voice in the center is a piece of the peace, the constant, comforting voice that wards away the demons. I am not certain that is what the artist intended, but the question could be raised as to why use salt instead of some other household ingredient. However, this piece of work almost emulates the work of Japanese artist Motoi Yamamoto, who is known for creating beautiful installations out of salt, including complex labyrinths. In Japanese culture, salt is traditionally used as a symbol of mourning and purification, and is used in superstitious manners similar to the ones described by the voice in the untitled instillation. Motoi Yamamoto creates art from salt as a way of remembering his deceased sister. He describes creating a labyrinth out of salt to be similar to following a memory, which change over time and cannot quite be captured through pictures or writing. The sounds in the instillation sound like memories, like the memory of a family member in an old family house giving advice and passing down timeless stories. Salt is commonplace in many households, but so is pepper, or butter. Unlike other staple items, however, salt has long been revered by many cultures. The legends of the purity of salt perhaps even arose from a time when it was valued above gold, or was a currency itself, valued in its abilities to season and preserve food, and thus life. Perhaps it is even a fascination with the sea that inspires part of it. In more modern times, in the Great Depression and other recessions, common people are forced to let go of many everyday luxuries such as spices and sugar and certain foods, and must instead cope with only using what is available at the time, with things so simple as salt. Some of the solutions that the voice in the installation claims one can achieve with salt calls back to a time of depression, such as placing salt on either side of the door to increase the economic prosperity of a restaurant. The recording itself sounds as if it could be nearly a century old, although it could just as easily only be a few decades old, as the cadence and meaning of it is so commonplace that it sounds like recipes that are passed down through generations. The creaking and other noises from the speakers on the walls are not necessarily sinister in and of themselves. They could be domestic noises from a family home, such as the sound of someone cooking in another room or children running around somewhere. Sitting in the center with the voice could recall sitting in a kitchen and listening to a mother speak as she cooked, teaching the same things that her mother taught her. The salt could be used merely as an old wives’ tale, as something that older family members call back to in times of trouble, something that is consistent throughout the years. However, the purity of salt could even be in reference here, as the instillation could make the viewer feel like they are a child again, listening to the comforting noises of home, recapturing, if just for a few moments, some form of lost innocence and security. Old-fashioned has returned to fashion in recent years. Old designs and materials are dusted off and revamped and molded to the styles of modern times in order her create something new that calls back to an older time. Flowered patterns and lace are styled and worn as a new dresses. Vintage leathers and canvas are reformed into bags and boots. New houses boast antique wood floors and cabinets with the finest sterling silver fixtures. Original films are swept aside for remakes of older classics. There is a sudden desire for what was once innovative again. People always desire something new, something “modern”, and yet they fall in love with what has already past, with trends that are long since gone. Perhaps it is in such resurgence now because of the more difficult economic times. When people have to struggle, they take inspiration from those who have struggled before, even if they do not realize that they are doing so. People take comfort in the past, for it cannot change. The past is consistent; the past always seems like a brighter place once it is no longer the present. Within this untitled creation of Dana Ollstead and Janelle Proulx there is an atmosphere that is quite different than the area that surrounds it. Around the rings of salt, there is a gallery. Within the labyrinth of salt, there is a bittersweet taste of serenity, of security, of a home.
All artistic work, like all human activity, involves the joint activity of a number, often a large number, of people. Through their cooperation, the art work we eventually see or hear comes to be and continues to be. The work always shows signs of that cooperation. The forms of that cooperation may be ephemeral, but often become more or less routine, producing patterns of collective activity we can call an art world
Becker, Howard S. 1982. “Art Worlds” Berkeley: University of California Press.