Maurizio Cattelan’s exhibit at the Guggenheim was different. I really enjoyed the display for his show, it transformed the way viewers experience art. A lot of the items he displayed were extremely controversial and that really peeked my interest, in particular the bed with two life-size white men dressed in black suits, almost touching hands. He had other wild sculptures, such as a fridge with its door open. It wasn’t until I was closer to the fridge, that I realized it had a older woman inside it. These items were just a few of many which spoke out to me. A lot of them were funny, I liked the elephant covered in a white sheet with a small black ant on its head. Some of the items were a bit disturbing and I did not understand them, such as the one of John Paul apparently killed by a huge rock. Over all, I liked the exhibit and I really appreciated how he stepped away from an ordinary exhibition and involved the audience with his works in a way I’d never seen before. 

4:01 pm  •  11 December 2011

MAURIZIO CATTELAN: ALL (NATALIE NAZARIAN)

Maurizio Cattelan’s exhibit at the Guggenheim was really impressive.  The scale of it was impressive—the hugeness of some pieces and the smallness of others, and the sheer quantity of works, and the works themselves, both individually and collectively all had me really respecting Cattelan.  I like how explicit his style is, how it mocks art that needs really long or abstract explanations, and favors outright, unabashed criticism of concrete ways humans organize themselves and interact—pop culture, organized religion, government, etc.  It was actually pretty overwhelming it see so many carefully and powerfully articulated criticisms of modern culture. It was even more overwhelming to read about all the bold exhibitions of Catellan’s career, and it made me appreciate how art can be used for serious pranking.  With someone like Josh Harris, I was made to feel like immoral and brutal acts were protected from the criticism they deserved because they were called “Art” and it scared me how the slipperiness of the definition of art can make it a dangerous tool used by vaguely malicious people (also calls Trolling to mind).  But this exhibit did the opposite—it was oddly uplifting (odd because of all the problems and ugliness in the world and in humans that was pointed out), so see that art gives this man a way to channel well-founded ideas about real issues, in a truly poignant way.  I suppose some people should be allowed to be culture-critics and some should not.

4:57 pm  •  6 December 2011

Despite its popularity, my “experience” at the Carsten Holler show at the New Museum wasn’t too exciting. I visited it for the second time because first time I went, I couldn’t experience the art due to the long line. After 45 minutes of waiting, I finally could get on the merry-go-around and the slide, which was fun, but not really worth the wait. I liked the idea of viewer-participant art, but I didn’t think his artworks were too innovative. Throughout the show, I could see the artist’s background as a scientist prevailing, and I found the incorporation of some pseudo-scientific motifs such as flasks interesting. Yet, overall, I felt like I have seen similar artworks somewhere. It was the same old rhetoric. They were reminiscent of the light-art of Donald Judd and Dan Flavin, the caricaturized animals of Paul McCarthy and Yoshitomo Nara. Perhaps my favorite piece was looking at a fish tank while lying down, which was a very soothing and almost hypnotizing. My least favorite was the tank, and I had to wonder why I had waited for 10 minutes to be in a hot, smelly tank.

In what is so-called as interactive art today, I find it prone to the danger of becoming a very authoritative and strictly guided show when it is presented in an institutional context such as a museum. I had the same feeling at the new museum, despite its reputation for being New York’s most experimental and cutting-edge contemporary museum, I thought the exhibition was too heavily guarded and directional that it kind of ruined the whole idea of freely interacting with the artworks. I just felt like waiting at an amusement park or becoming a subject for an experimentation of the artist. I wish the museum tries harder to make the spectator feel less bossed around throughout the exhibition.

4:53 pm  •  6 December 2011

I went to Maurizio Cattelan’s exhibit at the Guggenheim.

What really struck me at first was the organization of the exhibit. It was interesting how Cattelan decided to hang pieces representative of his entire body of work from the ceiling, completely at random with no consideration given to chronology. This is interesting because while the work of many artists is often seen as very linear, or in “periods” of similar styles, Cattelan completely rejected this convention. This was especially interesting because of the repetitious subject matter. I noticed that he not only included sculptures, but also photographs of those sculptures, as well as two sets of the same animals, one taxidermied the other just bones. Due to the layout of the exhibit it was unclear which were produced first, but what was clear was that, to Cattelan, it doesn’t matter. The Guggenheim seemed to be the perfect gallery for this, as more and more works emerged, although in no particular order, as I spiraled up towards the top.

Another aspect of Cattelan’s work that struck me was his sense of humor. I laughed several times while at the exhibit. There was an elephant hiding under a sheet, the pope struck by a meteor, and pigeons sat on the metal supports at the top of the whole thing. The museum described his humor as “irreverent” but also took care to note that while it may seem funny, Cattelan’s work is “deadly serious” and consists of “scathing critiques.” I have to agree with these interpretations and I don’t think that anyone would be so bold as to include a small boy hanging from the gallows, a child-sized sculpture of Hitler, or the dying pope without some kind of serious thought behind it. I found myself admiring his work, mostly for the boldness and confidence of it all. I did not, however, admire his apparent decision to retire from the art world because it seems silly, and a little too obvious to be in keeping with the rest of his work. His work seemed to focus on shocking people with imagery that leads to deeper thinking. But, whether he comes back or stays retired it doesn’t matter; I won’t be surprised either way. 

3:55 pm  •  6 December 2011

Last week I went to Carsten Hӧller: Experience exhibit. Mirror Carousel is on the highest floor, and New Museum was overcrowded with people who wear futuristic 3D glasses. The first thing that I confront was Mirror Carousel and the Birdcage mobiles with real birds. I could not take the three-story slides due to the long line, but the rest of exhibition was cool enough for me to make think of his intention and the usage of different tools to create experience. The experience he provided to the audience is that the space is distorted and what we receives from our sensing organs are definitely affected by the skewed experience he provided. The lighted wall all around the floor disturbed me a lot, and it delivers significant energy, with the lying figures of animals with single color. How monotonous colors affect viewer, was my first thought. And I also found that the Giant Psycho Tank was really strong indication that what he delivered. The power of space is intensified and the tank, water, smell, and the dim light all are mixed and amplified the effect of space onto the person. It was great experience and I really wanted to try slide with goggle. 

2:03 pm  •  6 December 2011

<!— /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:”ＭＳ 明朝”; mso-font-charset:78; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:”ＭＳ 明朝”; mso-font-charset:78; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870145 1073743103 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:”“; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:”ＭＳ 明朝”; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:”ＭＳ 明朝”; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page WordSection1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} —>

Sarah Schwartz- Guggenheim

After going to the Guggenheim to see the Maurizio Catellan exhibit, I was left with a very specific reaction. In the beginning of the exhibit, the memo said that this was the end of his career, that the exhibit is an exercise of disrespect among other things. These two things stood out to me the most because they upset me. First of all, I didn’t feel like this will actually be his last show- it seems counter to the message if your “last show” is in one of the most famous museums. It also bothered me that it felt that he is saying that this is his last show, almost fishing for people to beg him to stay and his show at the Guggenheim was so amazing.

The element of disrespect also bothered me because if he made this exhibit with the idea of disrespect in mind, he is only disrespecting himself, which is sad. This would be more genuine if he did this and then did not have it in the Guggenheim, for it would validate my belief in his motives.

I definitely did see the overarching theme of death, it was hard to miss, especially when one of the first pieces that strikes your eye is the dead horse in the bottom center. This is continued throughout the exhibit with the hanging bodies and animals.

If Catellan does leave the art world after this show, I will definitely like this show as all of what bothered me would be invalidated. I think this exhibit would have also been cool if it wasn’t done by him, but rather in honor of him, showing his life work not through a lense of disrespect, but of admiration. In my opinion, the hanging, while the memo said it was in reference to treating the work like laundry left to dry, but rather as a collection of all of the work someone has done in their life, hanging mid air, like one might think of it in their mind.

12:59 pm  •  6 December 2011

 I found the Maurizio Cattelan - All exhibit at the Guggenheim very interesting.  What struck me the most at first was the way Cattelan used the space. As the Guggenheim is special in its architecture, so working down from the top worked perfectly for this exhibit.  Having seen many exhibits at the Guggenheim before, I was impressed with the way this one was laid out.  The actual walls were bare, and the entire exhibit was hung in the center, with all the museum visitors crowding around the center ledges.

Cattelan made this exhibit noteworthy in that most retrospectives are piece after piece, one after another, but he decided to hang all of this work together, creating one giant new piece.  The work of art itself was interesting because of the use of repetition, but since this is a retrospective of a sort, that is to be expected.  What was unique though was that these similar images (praying hands), statues (horse taxidermy), and human representations were not grouped together, but sporadic throughout the hanging piece.

The exhibit made me think about perspective and seeing different things from different angles.  From one side of the museum the viewer would see something absolutely completely different from the other side.  When I saw the large dinosaur fossil hanging from one side, I thought it was missing its head, then walking around to the other side, I realized it was simply upside down and what I thought was the neck was actually the tail.  Its hard to tell what is what and who is who until you are directly in front of it, or above it, or below it.  I enjoyed how he played with proportion as well. 

There was also an app station in the museum, where you could watch videos, mostly narrated by John Waters, and read information about the exhibit.  You were able to zoom in also on particular pieces of the work, allowing you to see much of the details. 

The viewer could definitely feel Cattelan’s representations of humor, empathy, morbidness, and corruption.

12:56 pm  •  6 December 2011

12:39 pm  •  6 December 2011

I chose to visit the Maurizio Cattelan exhibit, All, as I have never been to the Guggenheim and I considered this the perfect opportunity to do so. Upon entering the museum, before even buying my ticket, I was immediately taken aback by the lowest hanging piece in his exhibit—Novecento, a taxidermied horse suspended from the ceiling. As a lifetime equestrian, I was apprehensive to continue through the exhibit. This horse, with its head hanging low, seemed so helpless as if it had finally given in to the fact that it was stuck in that position. The presence of the large crowd observing the exhibit encouraged me to continue, and as I made my way up the spiral walkways of the rotunda, my view of each piece of work changed drastically from my view on the level below. Throughout my experience of All, I couldn’t stop thinking that this setup seemed almost too perfect—like this rotunda was built for this exhibit, but I later read that Cattelan created this work with the Guggenheim in mind. Upon further examination of each piece as its own before viewing it as intended in this exhibit (among the other pieces), Cattelan’s intention became, in some ways, less and less clear to me. A hanging Pinocchio singing unintelligible words is an example of this. At the same time, however, I started to see a recurring theme of death (numerous bodies covered by blankets and tarps, taxidermied animals, people in coffins, apparent suicides) and incredible sarcasm (the hand, pointing downward to the floor, giving the middle finger to the crowd below). I would be lying if I said I wasn’t creeped out by most of his pieces (the old woman sitting in a refrigerator, for example, or the upside down hanging police men, or Hitler on his knees, or the body of JFK in a coffin, or the abundance of taxidermied animals—I could go on and on). And, upon reading in the catalogue that this exhibit marked the end of Cattelan’s career, it seemed both obvious but also strange to me that he would hang up all of his work, pieces that may or may not go together, in one place. It almost looked like he was hanging up all of his “dirty laundry,” so to speak, as if disrespecting himself (this was discussed in the catalogue). Why not display them as they were originally intended or created? I also understood, however, that the meaning of each individual piece took on a new theme as they hung so close to his others. Overall, this exhibit was really interesting. I am very glad that I chose Cattelan over the other choices. It was definitely an experiential exhibit, which I really enjoyed, and I loved the fact that each level of the Guggenheim’s rotunda brought a new and exciting view of each of his works. Even days after seeing it, I am still thinking about the pieces and what their meanings could me, which to me, makes them excellent pieces of art both individually and as a whole. 

12:35 pm  •  6 December 2011

For my artistic review I visited the  “Fluxus and the Essential Questions of Life” exhibition in NYU’s Grey Art Gallery. Before even entering, I read the poster displayed outside which asked “Art (What is it good for?).” I mention this because it really framed my thinking upon entering the gallery. What is art good for? What does art do? These are broad questions we explore in class and I was hoping to find some answers in the Fluxus exhibition. What I found with the pieces inside was that art, at least for the 1960s Fluxus movement, was about defiance. It wasn’t overtly aggressive in a way but the art pieces really put art back into the everyday life as if defying any notion that art was simply for elite museums.

And yet each piece was also an escape from the monotony of daily life. This paradox was heard for me to understand, and harder for me to explain. I suppose I equate it with the Dada movement as each piece had a simple beauty to it and yet also put a twist to make it even MORE than a simple piece of art. For example, I was fascinated with “Pears” by Robert Watts. For this display, a pair of the fruit was covered in aluminum and displayed on a plate. It is the perfect example of being both a daily life item and a unique art piece. That is something I began questioning about most of the pieces. How is this simple? How is it made complicated?

Each piece had a sort of DIY quality to it and I think made it very much relatable to me and other viewers. I also enjoyed that the exhibition was sectioned off with each section proposing questions like “Death?” and “Love?” This allowed viewers to kind of select where they wanted to go and when, breaking any sense of borders or necessary pathways.

(My phone died while I was there and I failed to get a picture of my own!)

12:04 pm  •  6 December 2011