Bonus Blog 1: Mullet Cheese

Our readings and class discussions have covered the topic of what separates "architecture" from being designated "art" or "building."  This post, however, poses the question to you, whoever might be reading this - what makes art, art?

As some of you are probably familiar with, the LA Tech SoA field trip to Houston includes a stop at the Menil Collection by Renzo Piano.  The Menil includes Byzantine, African artifact, Surrealist, and Modern/Contemporary exhibitions.  My focus today is on the Modern/Contemporary exhibition.

I'll start off with some mere opinion.  My favorite pieces from the exhibition -  Rene Magritte's "Le survivant" and "La courbure de l'univers," and David Novros's "6:30." 

"Le survivant" is provocative in its subversion of what it means to use a gun - the "user" end (the butt) of the rifle is splattered with blood, as opposed to the "business" end (the barrel), which would, under regular circumstances, be the end covered in blood.  It has several possible implications that I find intriguing, but I'll leave it up to you to take from it what you will.  Also, I have a very macabre sensibility and it would probably freak people out to dig too far into my psyche. 

"La courbure de l'univers," or "The curvature of the universe," is simply a bottle and oil paint.  Yet it raises some interesting questions about what the universe actually is - it reminds me of the end scene of Men In Black depicting our own universe as merely a glass marble in the bag of an alien.  It kind of makes you feel insignificant, the way looking at the stars makes you feel insignificant.  We accept that we as people are so small compared to the universe we can comprehend, but how insignificant is our own galaxy to the grand scheme of things?

I couldn't find any images of Novros's "6:30" but suffice it to say it is an arrangement of six L-shaped canvases coated in iridescent paint.  Depending on the angle you view it from, the light plays across the paint and gives the top portion a pinkish hue and the bottom a greenish-blue hue.  For me, and I think it was intended for other people as well, this piece reminds me of the play of light at twilight periods - dawn or dusk.  Or the Aurora Borealis.  Though I think the title is crucial in determining its intended purpose.

And now, the point. I decided to write a blog about this particular exhibition because of the principle artist displayed here: Robert Gober.  Gober actually took part in coordinating the displays of his work in this exhibit, so one can assume his pieces are shown very nearly as they were originally intended.  Most of his works are untitled, leaving their interpretation wide open.  Some of the pieces displayed at the gallery: "Untitled" , "Untitled" , "Untitled" , and I'm not sure but this is very possibly also untitled.  The docent explained that Gober likes to create replicas of every day objects with a slight "surprise."  I inspected the Seagrams bottle uncomfortably closely for a while and couldn't find the surprise :(. 

What do you make of Gober's work?  As far as finding a deeper meaning, I generally abstain from any symbolic interpretation of the work.  I wouldn't say I necessarily like it, but it does appeal to my macabre sensibility in that it is sort of off-putting - it throws you off balance for a little while.  You know something's not quite right, and you suspect something greater is going on here, but it's just out of reach.  Like the feeling of being watched.  The mulleted cheese is kind of like a guy in a bunny suit carrying an axe.

What is your favorite kind of art?  Be it paintings, sculpture, movies, or books - what kinds of emotions do you like art to invoke in you?  When does "art" stop being art?  Is pornography art, or exploitation?  Are terrible B-movies still art?  Leave comments, discuss.