This book proposes a new reading of contemporary art between 1958 and 2009 by sketching out a trajectory of ‘precarious’ art practices. Such practices risk being dismissed as ‘almost nothing’ because they look like trash about to be thrown out, because they present objects and events that are so commonplace as to be confused with our ordinary surroundings, or because they are fleeting gestures that vanish into the fabric of everyday life. What is the status of such fragile, nearly invisible, artworks? In what ways do they engage with the precarious modes of existence that have emerged and evolved in the socio-economic context of an increasingly globalised capitalism? Works discussed in this study range from Allan Kaprow’s assemblages and happenings, Fluxus event scores and Hélio Oiticica’s wearable Parangolé capes in the 1960s, to Thomas Hirschhorn’s sprawling environments and participatory projects, Francis Alÿs’s filmed performances and Gabriel Orozco’s objects and photographs in the 1990s. Significant similarities among these different practices will be drawn out, while crucial shifts will be outlined in the evolution of this trajectory from the early 1960s to the turn of the twenty-first century. This book will give students and amateurs of contemporary art and culture new insights into the radical specificities of these practices, by situating them within an original set of historical and critical issues. In particular, this study addresses essential questions such as the art object’s ‘dematerialisation’, relations between art and everyday life, including the three fields of work, labour and action first outlined by Hannah Arendt in 1958.
This book examines the impact of Civil Rights, Black Power, the student, feminist and sexual-liberty movements on conceptualism and its legacies in the United States between the late 1960s and the 1990s. It focuses on the turn to political reference in practices originally concerned with abstract ideas. The book traces key strategies in contemporary art to the reciprocal influences of conceptualism and identity politics. The central concept is a reversal of the qualitative assessment made by artist and theorist Joseph Kosuth in 1969. The book overviews the 1960s-1970s shift from disciplinary-based Conceptual Art to an interdisciplinary conceptualism, crediting the influence of contemporaneous politics dominated by identity and issue-based politics. It offers a survey of Adrian Piper's early work, her analytic conceptual investigations, and her transition to a synthetic mode of working with explicit political reference. The book explores how Conceptual Art is political art, analysing several works by synthetic proposition artists. It then surveys several key 1980s events and exhibitions before taking in depth the 1993 Whitney Biennial as its central case study for understanding the debates of the 1980s and the 1990s. Examining the ways in which Hans Haacke's work referenced political subject matter, simultaneously changing the conception of the processes and roles of art-making and art, the book argues against critics who regarded his work to be "about" politics. It also looks at the works of Charles Gaines, David Hammons, Renée Green, Mary Kelly, Martha Rosler, Silvia Kolbowski, Daniel Joseph Martinez, Lorna Simpson, and Andrea Fraser.
Across the early decades of the seventeenth century, Englishmen and women moved through a physical, social, and mental world organised into a carefully maintained balance of motion and pause. This book examines how seventeenth-century English architectural theorists and designers rethought the domestic built environment in terms of mobility, as motion became a dominant mode of articulating the world across discourses. These discourses encompassed philosophy, political theory, poetry, and geography. From mid-century, the house and estate that had evoked staccato rhythms became triggers for mental and physical motion-evoking travel beyond England's shores, displaying vistas, and showcasing changeable wall surfaces. The book sets in its cultural context a strand of historical analysis stretching back to the nineteenth century Heinrich Wolfflin. It brings together the art, architectural, and cultural historical strands of analysis by examining why seventeenth-century viewers expected to be put in motion and what the effects were of that motion. Vistas, potentially mobile wall surface, and changeable garden provided precisely the essential distraction that rearticulated social divisions and assured the ideal harmony. Alternately feared and praised early in the century for its unsettling unpredictability, motion became the most certain way of comprehending social interactions, language, time, and the buildings that filtered human experience. At the heart of this book is the malleable sensory viewer, tacitly assumed in early modern architectural theory and history whose inescapable responsiveness to surrounding stimuli guaranteed a dependable world from the seventeenth century.
Beyond its simple valorisation as a symbol of knowledge and progress in
post-Enlightenment narratives, light was central to the visual politics and
imaginative geographies of empire. Empires of Light describes how imperial
designations of ‘cities of light’ and ‘hearts of darkness’ were consonant with
the dynamic material culture of light in the nineteenth-century
industrialisation of light (in homes, streets, theatres, etc.) and its
instrumentalisation through industries of representation. Empires of Light
studies the material effects of light as power through the drama of imperial
vision and its engagement with colonial India. It evaluates responses by the
celebrated Indian painter Ravi Varma (1848–1906) to claim the centrality of
light in imperial technologies of vision, not merely as an ideological effect
but as a material presence that produces spaces and inscribes bodies.
Bound Together: Leather, Sex, Archives, and Contemporary Art considers historic
gay and lesbian leather communities by way of two interrelated lines of enquiry;
addressing the archives where leather histories and their attendant visual and
material objects currently reside, while also examining the projects of
contemporary artists who bring leather histories to the fore, making an implicit
argument for their potential queer political force in the present. Arguing for
an expansive, yet grounded, consideration of the vicissitudes and pleasures of
archival work, the book centers the material and visual cultures produced by
members of gay and lesbian leather communities, tracing their contextual
meanings at the time of their making, as well as their continued ability to
produce community-specific histories in archival repositories (that may or may
not be solely dedicated to leather communities). Contemporary artists such as
Dean Sameshima, Die Kränken, Monica Majoli, A. K. Burns and A. L. Steiner, and
Patrick Staff have incorporated the themes, materialities, and/or histories of
such archival holdings into their heterogeneous practices, establishing leather
history as a persistent and generative touchstone for rethinking queer life,
relationality, and sexual politics.