Justine Lai, Join or Die,* 2007I cannot stop looking at these paintings. On the surface of it, the project sounds super-stupid: a 24-year-old recent college grad paints self-portraits of herself getting it on with each President of the United States in chronological order. Yup, that's right. But there's something about them that's kind of amazing. I'm going to try to describe it, but maybe it's just a gut feeling, so feel free to skip these next three parts.
I'm surprised, first of all, because I'm really not into art that's about artists' own sex lives.** Koons's brand of pop being the prime example of why: it feels exhibitionist, flashy, conversation-halting, kind of gross, and not really as interested in exploring meanings as using sex to get a rise. What's most annoying about this is that the rise is temporary. You either put it in the art category, or you don't. If not, you may just say it's pornography, which is fine. We've all got genitals, why not? But even if you do accept it into the hallowed halls of, say, the MCA, it's still, as Koons himself says, just a "ta-da" moment. (Not my thing, art- or porn-wise.)
Lai's works don't work this way. Certainly, her pop roots are strong. There's the initial shock of the subject-matter, the magpie treatment of cultural icons, the play with reality and fantasy. But there's also this other thing, what I think of as the sustainable side of pop. It's like this curious calling-attention-to that touches off more thoughts and resists that Koonsian hardening of the surface.***
For example, John Tyler's strange, blind fingering in her mouth and her fearful one-eyed gaze while grabbing his wrist. What's that about? Or Abe Lincoln's weary teat and wearier face. Of course! Of course, that's what that would look like! As Lai herself writes, it's about the vulnerability and the ambiguity. It becomes more than a game of three-card monte with "the artist," "the presidential likeness," and "the viewer" each cycling through their proper positions. They escape becoming fixed or known entities in the exchange, while the range of emotions on display ensures that the stakes remain fairly high, not jokey. I suspect this will become harder with the more recent presidents, since their roles in our collective sex fantasies are more clearly scripted. The first 18, though, are really impressive.
Justine Lai, Join or Die, 2008To what else does this post's title refer? Why, homemade bread, of course. I've got a batch of this 20-hour creature rising and bubbling by the radiator right now. Should be ready to go by late-morning tomorrow. In this video, the baker from whom Bittman cribbed the recipe demonstrates how everything, even bread - especially bread! - has all this secret knowledge behind it involving squiggles and cracks, crumbs, crusts, and bubbles, proportions, substrates, and who knows what else? In other words, like snuggling up to a fat Martin Van Buren, delicious. Good night.
*No idea what the title means...
**Strange, I'm having trouble coming up with other examples not by Koons where the artist him/herself figures into the explicit image and not just images of partners, implied partners, or stand-ins. Comments?
***Like a printing error in a Warhol Car Crash.
ETA: The bread was a disaster. Better luck next time?
10 comments:
Wow, I can't wait until she gets to Taft.
Nan Goldin has a series that I think qualifies. Do you know anything about Schneemann's Fuses (1965)? I don't, but the description seems to fit. And there's Barbara Ruben's Night on Earth. Then there's that famous Mapplethorpe self-portrait? Paul McCarthy in Sailor's Meat? Acconci's Seed Bed? I don't know if being alone counts. Or how much of an orgy it has to be - does Meat Joy count? :) Then there's Charles Ray's Charlie Charlie Charlie (http://www.intelligentagent.com/archive/Vol4_No1_freerad_little.htm). And then there's this, which is kind of incredible: http://www.db-artmag.de/art/2007/3/e/5/542.php. Then there's John Duncan's, "Blind Date," for the snuff buff. But you're right - given how much sex there is in 20th c art., these examples are way harder to find than one might expect... I suspect that may be our minds are so quick to fill in the details, that often very little has to be given explicitly for people's imaginations (and sense of propriety) to run away with them...
Wish I could like this series, but all I see is the sensationalism. But I appreciate your analysis nonetheless.
kg, I'm curious about your sense of this stuff's sensationalism - where is it, exactly, for you? Is it that they are images of the artist herself (exhibitionism)? The use of presidential likenesses (too pop)? Are the particular acts she's displaying too cliched/porny? What is it that overshadows the things I'm finding fascinating about it (the emotions of the seemingly accidental gestures, the exchanges of gazes, the paint)? Also, what do you think about this idea of sustainable pop? (Or, rather, how do you feel about pop in the first place?)
And thanks for the references. I wasn't able to find out too much about a bunch of them, but the Golden and Schneeman, I think, definitely count. Perhaps the Acconci, too, since it's about an interaction that is sexualized. Less so the Mapplethorpe, which is more a self-portrait than a sex act.
It's true, too, that I failed to mention Lai's place in a feminist tradition of subverting the male gaze and wielding it for her own purposes. Though she seems more interested in exploring the exchange, rather than simply picking up the camera and seeing what a female gaze might look like.
I dunno, I guess it's somewhere in the "ooh, look, stodgy respectable white dudes had sex, too" moment or "I'm so kinky and irreverent, I fantasize about blowing Abe Lincoln" moment or "being subjected to dominating narratives of male-centered history is just like being sexually dominated" moment (as a rule, I don't think we relate to national history the same way we do to sex partners; people who do have problems). These things seem to me either obvious, cliche or designed to get a quick unproductive (but reproductive! :)) rise out of those who'd have us treat history with due respect. But I also think you'd be right to reply that none of those readings are any more inherent to the work than yours, that's just what I happen to see.
Am too conflicted about Pop (as most things) to fit those thoughts here. We'll need a few hours and a bottle of booze for that one. May be some Campbell's soup if we get the munchies.
Aha! Something I know about art!
Join or Die: the legend on an early flag of what later became the U.S. It showed a snake cut into 13 pieces labeled with the name of each colony. The idea was that the 13 colonies/parts of the snake had to unify or they'd continue to be "oppressed" by the British. It was pro-revolution propaganda based on an illustration that appeared in one of Ben Franklin's newspapers.
Oh, here:
http://www.gadsden.info/snake.html
But given that, I have no idea what the title means either.
Also, I don't know if she meant to do this, but she's fucking Buchanan from behind. Buchanan was a bachelor who lived with another man for a good chunk of time. A lot of historians assume he was gay.
CQ: I would not be surprised, artists these days are quite well educated and often strive for accuracy and historical depth...
As for JoD...well done! But like you, I'm still confused too.
And finally, kg, I'm holding you to that promise.
Please do. :)
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