The Guggenheim Collection
Published 1 year, 6 months ago in My life.Well, today I took my two toddlers and went to see the Guggenheim Collection.
It’s great and I’m totally inspired.
There is one work that I would like to talk about, as it has come under a fair bit of fire on the old Nook.
The Felix Gonzalez-Torres untitled work in question is a large pile of black rod licorice candy, individually wrapped in cellophane.
I have in the past had difficulty penetrating sculpture of this nature and so approached the work pre-disposed not to like it. However, turning a corner and coming upon it suddenly, it revealed itself to be a remarkably eloquent work of art.
The clear cellophane wrapping gives the candy, which is a very specific shape and size, an overall sheen of gun-metal grey and for all the world, this sculpture resembles a huge pile of gift-wrapped bullets.
That the work is speaking of war is immediately clear. Despite already knowing the subject was the Gulf war, a very small amount of investigation would have brought me to that conclusion. Nowhere else in history has a shocking conflict been so audaciously presented in the guise of a gift. Phrases like “operation Iraqi freedom” and the “gift of democracy” immediately sprang to mind.
Further inquiry into this piece reveals that this is no random pile of sweets thrown into a corner. The choices that the artist made were incredibly specific, considered and above all absolutely deliberate.
For instance, the artist chose a clear cellophane wrapping which serves three purposes. Firstly it creates the militaristic shade of grey. Secondly it presents the bullet as a gift. Lastly, perhaps most importantly, it is see through, highlighting that despite one of the finest propaganda campaigns in history, the motives behind the Gulf War have always been totally transparent.
Having had the criticism of “pile of poo” leveled at it, I wanted to understand why the artist had presented the work in such a way. I believe that the sweets were piled on the floor because it made them appear beyond counting, in the way that the bullets that rain down on the inhabitants of Iraq are despairingly endless. To contain them in any sort of vessel would have diminished the “infinite” quality of the work. Again, I feel this was a deliberate choice on the artists part, made clearer by the chilling message on the title notice next to the work. Endless supply.
On this note, it seems fitting that the pile should be replenished each day, not by the artist but a faceless worker, systematically. Is this not how a war is fueled? Systematically by faceless cogs in a machine?
There was still more to be learned from this work. Why not use, for instance, actual bullets instead of bullet shaped sweets? While viewing the artwork we were encouraged to take a sweet from the pile. Why was my participation so intrinsic to the meaning of this work that it required a gallery assistant on stand by to make sure I knew to take one? Why were my children particularly told to take one? For one quick moment I thought the artist was trapping me. By eating a lolly was I becoming complicit in the war? I dismissed the idea, the sweet was good and the feeling was far more optimistic. As I sucked on the licorice, I thought to myself “I have just used my mouth to dissolve a bullet .”
Perhaps the artists message is one of hope and encouragement. Everybody, men, women and children alike must use their mouths to dissolve this conflict. If we all speak out against it, there is hope. Although the words “endless supply” mock our attempts, the words of Harper Lee came to me as we walked away “even though you’re licked before you begin, you begin anyway and see it through”.
If it had not been for your post Fossil, I may not have gone to see the exhibition so I must thank you for bringing this work to my attention. I have to say that having seen it and participated in it, I consider it to be an intelligent and succinct work by an extremely talented artist.
You are a very intelligent man Fossil. I’m sure you are intelligent enough to see that you may have made a mistake regarding this particular piece of ART.
11 Responses to “The Guggenheim Collection”
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youve inspired me indi, I will make a concerted effort to get to see it.
This is a lovely essay Goldy and you argue your case with authority. I will certainly do as you suggested last week and do this particular piece of ART “the justice of experiencing it as it was intended’’.
I do find your reaction to the piece interesting and persuasive. One point of interest: Gonzalez-Torres was interested in the FIRST Gulf War (1991) – he died in 1996. He knew nothing of the gift-wrapped and bloody tragedy unfolding in Iraq as we speak. Of course that fact does not diminish his work or its merit; that it can speak to you about present day events may in fact bolster its claim to being art. According to essays and other material I’ve read – and I’ve had a looksee at a few sources since I got myself into this mess - Gonzalez-Torres was interested in the public’s reaction to the 1991 Gulf War. The pile of licorice is said to “intimate the complexities of public consensus’’ not the war itself. The work is called “untitled’’ (public opinion).
Gonzalez-Torres was fond of take-away art. An earlier work, “untitled’’ (monument), consists of two piles of paper fliers advertising public holiday sales that people are encouraged to take with them. The Guggenheim notes to a current exhibition in Venice - “Felix Gonzalez-Torres: America'’, suggest that the artist “conceived of his art as viral in nature, existing both within the museum and dispersed throughout the community by means of its take-away components’’. At least the licorice won’t create quite as much litter.
Goldy, I am touched by your reaction to the piece and I undertake to approach it with an open mind. Until then, I will refrain from proving my intelligence by conceding a mistake.
Oh, and I hope our little online debate hasn’t caused enough rage for Alain to start aiming punches at the nose of any bald man that asks for Rapadura Sugar. No, I’m sure he’s a gentle soul. Still, should I wear a Tony Mokbel-style wig?
nice indepth review, look foward to seeing the exhibition.
Sounds great - look forward to seeing it - and to forming an opinion on the pile of licorice. Look forward to hearing other people’s reactions too - whether they conform to your eloquent support or are fired up against it.
HEHEHEHE Foss, neither Al or myself are much into violence, but I do love a good debate! My mother in law thinks of me as a dissident because she believes I disagree with everything she says. (I do, mainly because she talks an astonishing amount of rubbish).
On the Gonzalez-Torres work, I know that it was created in ‘91, but I must view it in 2007. As you say, it’s relevance to world events today really only serves to strengthen it’s status as art.
As a director and a visual artist I have, in the past, been very interested in the idea of the
“theatre of the object” and my work has often played within this theme. I think this work too could sit well with this idea. Whatever you may think of it, whatever thoughts and ideas you may bring to it and place on it, this large pile of licorice had an unexpected presence that made me take more notice of it than just accepting a free sweet and moving on.
At this point however, I must bow out of the discussion because I have twelve babies to make before Sunday and I am behind schedule (and if you think that is odd, last week I had twelve little old ladies hanging on my clothes line)
Fossil your last paragraph made me a little sad because I realised that my writing on the nook comes across as quite dogged and humourless, whereas the opposite is true. My sense of humour has always been one of my more noticeable traits. So I thought I would leave you with one more thing about the Guggenheim Collection that made me laugh and laugh.
My 2 1/2 year old daughter, Golden, thoroughly enjoyed the exhibition while Lars, my 1 1/2 year old, could take it or leave it. Goldie chattered happily about the work giving her thoughts in a truly delightful manner.
When Daddy came home she told him that she had been to see “the Guggenheim Reflection.”
“Really sweetheart, and what was that?”
“Oh, art and stuff” she replied.
“And what did you like the most?” asked Daddy
She answered without a moments hesitation
“I liked the toilet! I did a BIG wee”
I thought it was a perfectly fitting response to an exhibition of modern art.
Go see it. Take your kids - and don’t miss the toilet, it’s brilliant!
Please don’t apologise Fossil at least not until you’ve seen it, I was with you on this one.
Indi, how can it be “no random pile of sweets thrown into a corner. The choices that the artist made were incredibly specific, considered and above all absolutely deliberate“ on one hand and be restocked daily by a faceless worker. The rest of what you say is a literary masterpiece and a exposé of a very creative mind, far more creative than this artist has been, as I se it. Pity you got the wrong war thou, still it’s the story that counts.
I’ve nothing to apologise for Brian but I may be persuaded to Goldy’s view of the licorice pile.
I don’t think you come across as humourless Goldy, though your remarks re: my being intelligent enough to realise this may be art did bring to mind (again) the Emperor’s threads. Only those of intelligence could see them, no?
I actually have the opposite problem I think. Often I seem to come across as amusing and while I can and do make people laugh - had a fun and moderately successful go at standup a couple of years back - humour is not the first thing most people wouldn’t notice about me. That would be the frown, the growl or the fact that I’m shouting at them.
Begining to like you foss
cheerio
shadowmaster
… and it’s goodnight from me, and it’s goodnight from…
Beginning?!
Ok Foss, i have liked you for a while now, but i didn’t want to make the other nooksters jealous.
cheerio
shadowmaster
Fantastic post, thanks for sharing. I’m heading to the exhibition soon.