The Longest Minute: “Time Line on the High Line”
How long is a minute?
This was the question posed by artist David Lamelas during his performance “Time Line on the High Line.” The interactive piece took place in three different locations throughout the park on July 22, 23, and 24. Park visitors were invited to stand along a white strip of tape, in no particular order, and pass along the time. The performance began with an announcement of the time to the first participant in line. That person “holds” the time for an estimated one minute, at which point they then announce the time out loud and “pass” it to the next person. Visitors were encouraged to join the line at any point as well as use their native language to announce the time, adding their own subjective sense of time to the performance’s duration, both temporally and physically.
So, how long is a minute? Sixty seconds.
This is cool!
See the full document here, http://goo.gl/JLmq6C.
The Western States Arts Federation (WESTAF) seeks a partner to engage in a proof of concept pilot project to develop a replicable community engagement and documentation program related to public art. The project seeks to develop a replicable guided crowdsourcing model, supported by crowdfunding, that will engage local residents in the public art of their community and also support the sharing of those works in WESTAF’s free online searchable collection of public art in the Public Art Archive™ (PAA™). The focus of the engagement project is on the crowdsourcing of images of public art and the demonstration of the crowdsourcing of limited funds to support the effort. Organizations of all types, non-profit and for-profit, art-based and non art-based, as well as individuals, are eligible to respond to this opportunity. The entity or individual selected to conduct the pilot will enter into a contract for services with WESTAF and will be paid $10,000 upon the successful completion of the project.
Anyone got a good community-engaged public art project proposal?
Q+A is five questions posed to artists and media arts leaders.
Dennis RedMoon Darkeem is a Bronx-based Native American (Yamassee Yat’siminoli tribe) and African American multimedia artist, crafter, photographer, and performer. His work often focuses on issues of institutionalized racism and classism, jarring stereotypes, and displacement of people of color. This summer, he has been an artist-in-residence at the Laundromat Project; his exhibition Trade Blanket is showing at the Casita Maria Center for Arts and Education in the Bronx through October 1st.
You make objects, and you also do more conceptual work that involves elements of community engagement (for example, this summer’s Good Trade/Trade Blanket projects). How do you understand the relationship between your work as a maker-of-objects and your more community-based work?
As an artist, I am very inspired by the many communities I belong to. I try to understand the needs of the elders and the youth and how I can connect these two communities, and create objects that give voice and create dialogue about these needs, issues, and concerns. I’m inspired by masters whose craft has empowered and motivated communities, such as Bob Marley, Theatre of the Oppressed, Celia Cruz, Nicolas Dumit Estevez, and Marcus Garvey to name a few, as well as the Maafa.
Your work is strongly grounded in your native ancestry; in your website bio, you talk about using your work to address various social and political issues affecting native folks and people of color in the United States (negative stereotypes, institutional racism, displacement of people of color, etc.)—issues in which non-native, white folks are complicit, as people with privilege. How do you educate white audiences about these issues, many of which can come across as difficult truths? How do you balance doing work that has the potential to make people uncomfortable, while also keeping them engaged?
Starting with the word comfortable, I have to say, comfortable for whom? And then I begin the creative process: who do I create work for? I hope everyone can take something away from what they may have seen or heard that would have them telling someone else about their experience. I have had experiences where individuals can’t understand what they see as a Black man making Native American art; I then put on my teaching hat, letting them know that we are all labels, these labels are names that have been given by other people, and with these names history has changed to make certain people feel comfortable. My ancestors were not walking around calling each other Black people; this name was given by European Spaniards and the Portuguese, along with a history. That leave you to think, whose history do you believe?
You’ve talked about the dearth of representations of East Coast native people in art and museum contexts. How do we work towards more and better representations of art by native people in traditional exhibition spaces?
This is the wall I’m trying to knock down in my work, to create a new way of thinking about what is native art, again having to break the idea of labels of Native American art. Especially on the East Coast where there is so much mixing of cultures and identities, who is to say what is authentic? One may live on a reservation and create handmade wood canoes, and a native artist who lives in the city may create works on canvas. Other than location, the focus should be on how to use your work to empower yourself and your community.
As a community-engaged artist, what, for you, is the value of representation in those spaces? What do you see as the value of a museum setting?
I see the value of a museum setting as an opportunity to explore different views. Hoping all views are represented, especially those of the community that the space is to be used for. In a day and age where anyone can open a museum or a gallery, this means the opportunities are endless.
At this time, mainly applying for grants and sending proposals out, but I’m working on a mixed-media interactive performance named “The Gathering,” inspired by four two- and three- dimensional works works I’ve made in the last three years that blend Native American, South Pacific and Afro-Cuban music and movement, organic sounds, and familiar everyday objects like mirrors, flashlights, and plastic bags to create a place of creativity, spirituality, and motivation. The goal of the performance is to bring community together and explore the connections between Indigenous, Latino, and Black American culture, viewed through a creative and organic lens in order to push the thinking of theater, traditions, and communities.
OMAHA — Both teaching and social practice ask a leader (artist, teacher, organizer) to codify and articulate a set of steps that are then acted out by a group. There’s a place for uncertainty, but it should be strategically applied: by choice, not default. It’s been two weeks since the Urban Design Lab students have arrived at the Bemis Center to work with me. All I can say for sure at this point is that I understand far less about Omaha than I’d hoped — and that this actually excites me.
This looks like an awesome community-focused social practice project.
Last night, Open Field became a space for Fluxus baseball dreams.
Scenes and mementos from Chris Kallmyer’s “Play Catch, All Together”
July 17, 2014
Walker Art Center
Photos and ballplayer sketch by TS Flynn
For more on Chris Kallmyer and his work, visit chriskallmyer.com
Awesome combo of social practice art and Cage-ian musical abstraction.
Drivers need to slow down. Traffic deaths are a serious problem across the United States, with pedestrian fatalities increasing in past years. One effort to keep eyes on the road is the use of colorful street art — painted right on the streets.
Art that saves lives?
Yamassee Yat’siminoli and Maroon artist Dennis RedMoon Darkeem's Good Trade, created for a Laundromat Project residency, seeks to “[recreate] the Native American custom of trade in an urban environment, allowing a mutual exchange between participants and creating a form of communication.”
For his related TRADE BLANKET exhibition, opening Wednesday, July 23rd at Casita Maria in the Bronx, “[Darkeem’s] own handmade items are exchanged for anything the interested buyer feels is of equal worth.”
The exchange of stories and items traded for these projects will then be documented through photography and video.