Hello Central, Give me Heaven, Hello Central, Give Me No Man's Land

Mon, 3 Mar 2008 19:24:27 +0000

Hello Central, Give Me Heaven, Hello Central, Give Me No Man’s Land was a collaborative new work that combined video images from the ‘between the wars’ years with audio clips from notorious and anonymous figures of the era, then set to an original musical composition. Original prints and etchings created a panoramic scroll of architecture and gesture.

For this newest installment, an audio-visual collage from Rob Millis and Fionn Meade complimented a suite of etchings by Mary Simpson affixed to wrap around the Tollbooth Gallery. Focused on the gestural nature of propaganda, Hello Central echoed the platform-like venue and looked into coercion, fervor, melodrama and retreat as part of our aesthetic inheritance.

Jared Pappas-Kelley: Your show was a really effective collaboration and fits nicely with the Tollbooth space. How did the idea for Hello Central, Give Me Heaven, Hello Central, Give Me No Man's Land come about? 
Rob Millis: While throwing around ideas, Fionn started talking about the concept of propaganda. I suppose the (rather tenuous) connection was that propaganda often took the form of posters, public forums and so on. I started thinking about musical propaganda…Russian composers nervously glorifying Stalin…WWI and WWII popular songs…American songs from the New Deal era…We researched propaganda in general and began wondering how to make these materials connect to ourselves and to an audience in a non-didactic way. We all sort of realized simultaneously that an era we were interested in was the American Depression. Mary had been working with Walker Evans imagery. Fionn had recently curated a show at the Northwest Film Forum and had asked me to perform with my band that had just released an album that is abstractly steeped in music from the 1920s and 30s. Abstractly steeped? Does that make sense? Fionn and I put together a collage of depression era film that accompanied my band’s performance and that became the basis for the video component of Hello Central. Along with that we shared an interest in Soviet “propaganda” artists like Lissitzky and Rodchenko and composers like Shostakovich whose relationship to the “state” was very—shall we say--complex. Anyway, we focused on US and Soviet propaganda sources from roughly that time period and that became the loose framework on which we hung the piece. The title comes from two US propaganda songs (actually from WWI, not exactly the depression but who’s counting?). To me the piece came to be more about gesture and repetition, curious sounds and images, than necessarily about propaganda…

Here’s a quote I had in mind while working on my portion of the project:

“It is well that we keep in mind the fact that not all of American history is recorded. And in some ways we are fortunate that it isn’t, for if it were, we might become so chagrined by the discrepancies which exist between our democratic ideals and our social reality that we’d soon lose heart. Perhaps that is why we possess two basic versions of American history: one which is written and as neatly stylized as ancient myth and the other as unwritten and chaotic and full of contradictions, changes of pace and surprises as life itself…” (Ralph Ellison, Going to the Territories).
A great thing about art is that it can address both histories: it can serve to create that stylized myth as well as fall headlong into the chaotic. It can even bridge the two.

Fionn Meade: I spoke with ArtRod awhile back (well over a year ago) about how great I thought the Tollbooth project was and they asked me if I’d be interested in contributing a piece. I said yes and then thought I’d ask Rob and Mary to be involved because we’re often hanging out, talking, and have many shared interests. Added to that is the fact that I think they’re both amazing artists and wanted to work with them on a project. So, we discussed what might be appropriate given the space/platform of the venue and realized we were all struck by its public disclosure format, the kind of “I’m talking to you, over here” element of the Tollbooth as it relates to passers by.

And so we got to talking about that dynamic and began to think around the idea of a soapbox/point of propaganda/site of coercion, etc. and how we could do something that explored the aesthetics of such rather than the overt politics (or cloyingly political intent of propaganda and much shrill protest as well) of this theme/point of inquiry. And so we talked some more and came to a mutually shared era of interest for all of us, namely the depression era (between the wars years) as a place to draw from for source material and inspiration. And the rest proceeded quickly from there.

Mary really pointed the direction with her printmaking as she brought isolated figures into relation with the imposing yet beautiful architecture of the period. The rambling man (itinerant but also seeking) figures you then encounter in the etching panorama she has created stand as kind of a lightning rod to the collage aesthetic that Rob and I adopted for our part of the installation. In other words, as you view the maelstrom of film images/snippets taken from propaganda films and newsreels of that era (our collage is organized by physical gesture, i.e. arms raising into arms, etc. and is taken from a number of sources) that Rob and I gathered and edited, you start to identify with the solitary/isolated figures or at least look at them differently in contrast with the fitful nature of the collage.

In effect, the need for the individual to stand alone, come to their own, seek out a balance, is offset by the images of zealous crowds, exhorting figureheads, and rebellious/violent interaction between the elements/sides, etcetera. This is the tension that makes the piece work as well as it does in my opinion. So, Rob and I worked on the collage together, quite closely, as the footage began to concretize around different gestures and reactions. We also played a lot with podiums, stages, lecterns, places of supposed authority, etc. being contrasted with both the sea change, solidarity, and fright of conforming quickly that can occur in crowd reactions, etc.

It’s important to mention here that we together (all three) decided to draw from/respond to not just US material but also Europe (and the Soviet Union in particular) as the similitude yet shades of contrast and tension between the two styles of coercion were fascinating to all of us (i.e., WPA propaganda alongside Soviet poster art).

Anyhow, so Rob and I worked on this collage for a number of weeks while also working on a song and sound collage (Rob is the architect and poet of the collage aspect to the audio/video collage, as he’s a genius when it comes to compelling audio collage, see www.climaxgoldentwins.com) that would accompany the moving image collage. As regards the song, I wrote up lyrics and came up with a melody of sorts that really responded to this rambling man notion, i.e. the solitary figure at sea in a rough going time and/or society, placeless but aware of the games being played out around him, power struggles and coercion, roles held on to, aspersions placed wholesale on entire groups, strata, etc. This place of poetic skepticism was conjoined in the song with an early country folk song structure break wherein the singer breaks into a kind of mini-sermon, gospel style. Only here, in our song, the sermon is one of the rambling man shouting out what to beware of, “the eternal State…” “the new morning train” and all such promises.

So, the melody and lyrics to Hello Central only found final form when Rob and I sat down and a lovely tripartite song structure that he devised met up with the melody, et voila... the song was done. Rob worked with snippets from his audio grab bag alongside newly found snippets of radio speeches from figures as various as Stalin and FDR to the infamous racist theories of 30s radio figure Father Coughlin, while also incorporating bits of an actual sermon from the time as well as a bit of Shoshtakovich (who was compelled—or complicit depending on what you read—to compose Soviet symphonies by Stalin)…. Anyhow, that’s kind of the gist of how this came together. All in all, this has been the most gratifying and rewarding collaboration I’ve done to date.
 JPK: How would you describe your work?

FM: My own work involves writing innovative essay forms, poetry, playing music and singing, as well as working with video/film formats and collaborating with artists working in misc. media. I’m also quite involved in curating and organizing art across disciplines. I’m fascinated with how artists make, i.e., the ‘in practice’ element of making art more so than the so-called trends of art and making work to fit into such.

RB: Essentially I am a musician and composer…I work a lot with found sounds, collage, ambiance…a paltry few people may know my work with the band Climax Golden Twins…or maybe not…

JPK: Mary Simpson’s etchings looked immaculate in this show and it all came together nicely. How did you each engage the separate elements for your installation at the Tollbooth Gallery?

FM: I think the above answers this. I hope anyway. Mary’s work on the tollbooth is a mix of etchings made from shaped copper plates (i.e. etched and then cut from larger sheets of copper to be printed according to the artist’s layout design) and printed on vertically arranged strips of heavy grade printmaking paper, and, then complimented with similar strips of monoprint images transposed from stills of the video collage that Rob and I worked on. These were chosen by Mary after we had finished the collage and so reflect another layer of collaboration between the media employed, i.e. printmaking, audio and moving image in an edited, re-contextualized within-the-piece way.

RM: There was a lot of independent work, once we had gotten the basic framework down. Other than that, we just had to trust that we were all on the same page and would produce work that was compatible. The collaborative element added a sense of improvisation and surprise that made the project even more interesting to me: all the elements came together with almost no time left to change anything.

JPK: What was your primary response when the Tollbooth approached you for an installation?

FM: I thought it would be great as it’s a challenging space to work with but in a good way. Sometimes the limitations of a format make you be more decisive and I think that was the case here. I also knew a bit about the organizers of the Tollbooth and thought it would be a great project to support by contributing something to it.

JPK: What appeals to you about a project like the Tollbooth?

RM: It is great to have different and new environments in which to experience art.

FM: It is independent, clever without being too much so, economically savvy, part of renewing the downtown Tacoma location where it is located away from just the retail end, inclined toward contemporary work from interesting artists, organized by genial and smart folks, and just quirky and cool in the end. Also I am very attracted to its artsoapbox nature, especially when there’s some subtlety to the art shown and explored there. The more look-at-me kind of work is not as appealing to me given the context.

JPK: How did you approach your project at the Tollbooth gallery, and did you have any concerns about the nature of the venue?

FM: I think this too has been addressed above. The only worry I had was the audio for this project, and affixing the paper, both of which turned out great. And we had nice assistance from ArtRod. The vandalism that I kind of expected hasn’t occurred which is kind of cool though I’ll admit to being curious what any such alteration would look like.

RM: I suppose the only concern was how much hooligans, roustabouts, rounders, and so on might interfere with the piece, but I expect that just means one has to be conscious of that element and embrace it. The prints on the Tollbooth have so much tempting white space for people to draw and doodle on. If it is “interacted” with, I hope it will be done in an amusing or thoughtful way.

JPK: How do you think video and paper based work lend themselves to a public art space?  
RM: Paper, I don’t know. That’s Mary’s area of expertise. Video is eye-catching…the old television in the store window idea…the key, perhaps is to make it somehow engaging for the casual passerby. It needs to be long or varied enough to withstand repeated passings…

JPK: What kind of work is exciting to you lately?  
RM: I’m the wrong person to ask. I work in an art gallery.

FM: Lots of things. I’m working on a sound art show that I’m organizing with Rob Millis and find the work of Steve Roden, Stephen Vitiello, and Loren Chase, in particular to be really exciting. I’m also excited about experiments with paper animation that I’ve been coming across, Lucy Raven, Laleh Korrahmian, Susan Graham, and others. In fact, Mary Simpson is putting together a SOIL group show on just that—experiments with paper and film. Cabinet is a great magazine.

Also, the work that Dust-to-Digital records http://www.dust-digital.com/ is doing is amazing, re-issuing lots and lots of American music from the 1910s-30s that is truly amazing. Rob Millis, in fact, along with Dust-to-Digital is putting out a selection of “Victrola Favorites” from his 78 record collection that will no doubt prove great. I like the programming at the Sculpture Center in NY as well as the Drawing Center in NY. I think Western Bridge has been a great addition to the Northwest. Clear Cut Press down in Oregon is doing important things. And the list goes on…
 JPK: What's one person whose work hasn't been shown at the Tollbooth project that you think it would be important to include?  
FM: You might consider asking Jesse Paul Miller if he’d be interested. He’s an amazing artist and would do great things with the format no doubt. (http://www.gogoweb.com/jpm/) It also might be nice to ask him to do something in conjunction with the Woolworth windows. His work is worth it. I could come with an entire list of other artists if you like?  JPK: How would you describe the current art climate and how do projects like the Tollbooth fit into that?

FM: Tollbooth is one of the cooler independent things in the area. Keep it up.

RM: Again, I work in an art gallery. Next question!

JPK: What have you been working on lately?

FM: The above-mentioned sound art exhibit that will be at Bumbershoot 2005. It will be a large-scale exhibit with a sound art forum at the Henry Art Gallery as well. So, folks should come check it out, August 30 – September 5th…

RM: All sorts of crap. A documentary film of a strange Thai festival that involves drinking and music and masks and general carrying on…numerous musical projects with Climax Golden Twins (www.climaxgoldentwins.com)…compilations of music from the 1920s and 30s on CD called Victrola Favorites…

Bridget Irish's Tollbooth Junction

Mon, 3 Mar 2008 19:11:36 +0000

Tollbooth Junction 11th & Broadway was a collection of various subway rides that the artist, Bridget Irish, had taken over the past several years, and filmed on Hi-8 video. Featured subway routes, shot when traveling above ground and during the day, included: NYC’s D-Line Brooklyn to Coney Island route and back, Chicago’s downtown loop from the Green Line, and Boston’s Blue Line from downtown to last stop Wonderland. These videos are as much studies in motion, form and light, as they are travel diary excerpts. With the inclusion of an enlarged snapshot of a newspaper stand vendor at NYC’s World Trade Center subway stop, the Tollbooth was transformed into a transit station portal where nothing stops except passersby long enough to take a look. Tacoma’s own light-rail, LINK, is stealthily included in the installation loop.
Jared Pappas-Kelley: A lot of your work that I’ve seen combines performance and video/film, but is also related to portraiture. How do you approach this?

Bridget Irish: That’s a good question. A lot of the film and video pieces that I would consider portraiture have to do with subjects that interested me for whatever reason - the person, object, location, light, color - and I guess some may be considered experimental documentary or of that nature – while the performances are often conceived with an audience in mind, with a focus on being directly interactive with its members and/or the space in some way. Pieces like Nude Ascending Staircase (a short video), or performing Twister, incorporate combinations of portraiture and performance while their origins (and success) rely on spontaneity. Yes, the concepts consist of a particular structure and maybe a few rules to give me an additional challenge, but once started, it’s pretty open to chance, and that combined with an audience - their energy, their willingness to participate or engage, and at what level, plays a big part in the live performance work.

JPK: You’ve been involved with a number of projects over the years such as the first Ladyfest, Homo A GoGo, Doctor Frockrocket's Vivifying(Re-animatronic)Menagerie and Medicine Show. Projects like these seem to inform a lot of your practice. Can you tell me a little about these projects?

BI: Oh gosh, the festivals and Doctor Frockrocket... I haven’t considered how they’ve informed my practice, that’s an interesting thought. Given that context, I’m not sure what it is you’d like to know about those particular projects but here goes…During Ladyfest, besides curating film video and performance art, I performed almost 24-7 for the six days of the festival as an MC with a Brooklyn accent – that persona’s carried over into other times I’ve acted as MC. The opportunity to have been a part of creating Ladyfest was a particularly valuable learning experience for working with such a big group and as an artist working with/scheduling other artists. With Homo A GoGo, as the coordinator for film and video, I had the opportunity to argue for work that may not have otherwise been shown, I think because it was really difficult, challenging work that demanded the viewer’s attention to confronting and questioning what they were seeing, which made it the exact reason to include it in the programming. Dr. Frockrocket – that was an amazing experience for sure. A lot of different things were occurring throughout that whole project - with group dynamics, personal relationships, tour, a national tragedy… It was interesting to see it through to this point where it seemed an analogy for a national condition at the time. The menagerie consisted of various performers with very different pieces, so the cohesion between one act and the next was contingent on Dr. Frockrocket’s presence and “narration” between various performers, as he was going through this process of falling apart before the audience, eventually being abandoned by the creatures that were under his control until the magic elixir wore off and they could “see” for themselves again.

JPK: Your show, Tollbooth Junction 11th & Broadway, at the Tollbooth featured footage you shot of above ground subway rides on the Brooklyn – Coney Island, Downtown Chicago – Garfield, and Boston – Wonderland runs, and intermingled it with footage of the new Link line in Tacoma. How did this project come about?

BI: Every time I travel I have some sort of camera (or two) with me, and I really enjoy recording rides I take on the subway or intercity transit of other cities. When initially approached to do a piece for the Tollbooth, I knew I wanted to do something site specific. I kept going to the site for inspiration, and had a couple of ideas, like using the travel/subway footage I’d been collecting. When I finally realized part of the Link route runs just a street down from the Tollbooth, the whole piece came together.

It’s funny just how attached I’ve become to using a camera, or this compulsion to record. There was one trip where I’d run out of money and couldn’t buy more tapes and didn’t want to tape over what I had. When riding the Amtrak from Chicago to Minneapolis, I had to calm myself out of a panic attack as I watched this gorgeous landscape unfolding before me which I couldn’t capture beyond experiencing it in the present moment.

JPK: I remember seeing an earlier incarnation of some of this footage that you screened at a Don’t Bite the Pavement with an audio piece. Can you tell me a bit about this?

BI: That piece was an excerpt from the Chicago subway loop footage I videotaped during my first trip there in 2001. The soundtrack for that screening was an original recording by Olympia music artist, Myello (aka Daniel Farrell). There were a couple events where Daniel mixed his own music live with the video projection and that was really great.

JPK: We received a lot of feedback about the image featuring the World Trade Center subway stop vendor that you used for the paper side of your installation. Can you tell me about the image?

BI: During a trip to NYC in Spring 2004, I went to the WTC site soon after I’d arrived. Once there, I couldn’t believe how effected by it I became. I walked the parameter a few times actually, attempting to plot out a piece, but I just couldn’t do it. Finally, I kind of gave up and went down to catch the next subway to wherever and on my way this fellow caught my eye – he looked kind of tiny and waiting, peering out from this box there in the midst of all this junk – the candy bars and magazines – so I asked him if I could take his picture. I had a digital camera with me, so was able to show him the photo afterwards, and he actually has a really nice smile.

JPK: How is this photograph specific to the WTC (and/or events there)? The concept seems so loaded, but was it a conscious decision to photograph someone who was there? …and how conscious were you of revealing that fact and how viewers would respond, or relate?

BI: It wasn’t until writing the description for the Tollbooth piece that I made the loose connection between the Boston Subway footage (filmed in 2001, just days before 9/11) and the photo of the WTC vendor. I didn’t consider it terribly significant, rather I mentioned it as a matter of coincidence from my own experiences. It’s important to note, I think, that this information wasn't included on the actual installation but only in the press release, and in the description I’d provided to the San Francisco Art Institute’s “Now Showing” site (a listing of shows and events by current and former SFAIers). There was a woman who contacted me via email, in response to the photo posted there, which I’d captioned “WTC Newspaper Vendor.” She said the image had stopped her cold, that she’d worked there prior to 9/11, and believed that many of those newspaper vendors were actually information cells. It was a really interesting email - I wrote her back, told her I didn't think that this guy was a cell and thanked her for sharing her story with me. Once the print was installed, I didn’t think about its associations with the WTC so much as how the portrait of this newspaper stand, vendor, and person-of-color may be received in terms of being accepted as a part of or out of place in the area the photo was being displayed and in relation to the video loop. While I consider Tacoma to be more ethnically diverse than Olympia, I’m not sure that the proximity of the Tollbooth Gallery’s location accurately reflects that diversity.

JPK: What was your primary response when the Tollbooth approached you for an installation?

BI: Honored and excited!

JPK: What appeals to you about a project like the Tollbooth?

BI: That it’s a free, truly open to the public, 24-7 exhibition space, showcasing work by artists using a couple of the most ubiquitous mediums on the planet.

JPK: What were your biggest concerns when approaching the project?

BI: I wasn’t sure what I would do for the paper portion, but that worked itself out.

JPK: How do you think video and paper based work lend themselves to a public art space?

BI: Perfect! Especially given that video and paper are the same mediums used by advertisements. I think people may encounter Tollbooth exhibits in this way that may cause them to ask: Is this information, an ad, or, what is it? I mean, at what point would someone recognize something as being an ad or art, or even consider that something is art? Perhaps the kind of public art possibilities the Tollbooth offers may help shift/alter viewers’ perceptions of advertisements and art. When I went to ride the Link, I saw the video at the Theater District stop of a dancer- I wondered if it was an ad or an installation? I love stuff like that in general, and for the questions they may raise regarding distinctions (or not) between advertising, which can be an art in itself and certainly borrows from art, and then art, which is kind of advertising one’s opinions, perceptions or expression and sometimes made in response to advertising, etc... I don't know why I'm thinking so much about advertising and art, but there it is...

JPK: How does Tollbooth Junction 11th & Broadway fit into your past work? Can you tell me how one piece relates to/evolves into another project?

BI: As I’ve been collecting travel footage for some time, this project was a great opportunity to share some of that in a context developed specifically for the site. I think the idea for the Tollbooth piece was a natural segue from a store-front display made earlier in the fall for Dumpster Values, in Olympia. Becky Valentine made this city-scape from stacked cardboard boxes and paint and I contributed to the piece by placing two small monitors among the “buildings” that played video loops of Chicago and NYC/Brooklyn above-ground subway rides.

JPK: Can you tell me about your new online project Uniform?

BI: The idea for UNIFORM was motivated by my return to the same temporary job I’ve had for the past four years, working full-time during the Legislative Session. Each session I’ve had to sign a contract, to agree to being politically neutral throughout my employ there, basically, forfeiting my rights to freedom of speech while on the job or its location. I’d been going through my closet, picking out appropriate wardrobe for session, when I started thinking about that map CNN used to display the election results on their website, watching the various states turn blue or red, and all the flag-waving that’s been going on since this last war began, and then notions of patriotism, uniformity, and those colors, breaking them down into: red - war and the state of the union, white - for work, and the white collar position I occupy, and blue -loyalty, a true blue patriot… from all that came the idea that while I worked this job, I would limit myself to wearing clothing in combinations of red, white and blue only - hence, UNIFORM. I’m trying to keep up-to-date documentation of it on-line at http://www.filmanddestroy.org/irish-uniform.htm. It's been over 2 and half months now, only two people have commented so far, and I'm pretty much sick of wearing red white and blue... I've got about 4 more months to go.

JPK: Whose work are you excited by lately?

BI: Naomi Uman, TV Carnage, and people who are making free flash films for view on the internet, like that Viking Kittens animation.

JPK: What else are you currently working on?

BI: Besides UNIFORM... well... my partner, Bryan Connolly, and I had a one-track cassette recording of some improvised songs we'd taped in our living room in McCloud's art show called FRUIT. We make a lot of tapes in our living room but this is the first one we've put out there for others to listen to. For the month of March, I’m showing work at the Olympia Clothing Project - photo and video portraits involving a particular intersection of people's clothing, and the experimental film qualities of fabric. In addition to performing occasionally, such as with Shizuno Wynkoop at the Women’s DIY Health Conference in February (that was fun!), I also make film and video shorts that I’ve either shot or uses found footage. One of my long-term projects is sorting through all the Hi-8 I’ve shot over the past 10 years, to make more videos from, and maybe a feature-length piece... oh! and the socks project with my cat Ootini... and paying my taxes one of these days... yeah, that's about it I think. I also volunteer with the Olympia Film Society, and have been working on setting-up a new non-linear-editing station for the OFS Media Studio which should be available for use by OFS Members by mid-March.

www.bridgetirish.com
www.filmanddestroy.org

Wynne Greenwood of Tracy + the Plastics talks about her installation at the Tollbooth Gallery

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 17:29:12 +0000

Originally from Washington, then Brooklyn based Wynne Greenwood returned to the Northwest to premiere her newest piece, Maps to Radical Imagining, specifically created for the Tollbooth. “How do you map a hope, a flower, a muscle, a gaze, a breath, an exhaustion, an attempt, a history, or your community? You are here”, is Greenwood’s starting point for this exhibition. Greenwood also gave a lecture/performance at the Tacoma School of the Arts (SOTA)-a public high school for creative and performing arts students located in the urban downtown Tacoma corridor.
Jared Pappas-Kelley: Do you think that performing as Tracy + the Plastics is acting? Performance art? A band? How do you explain this to your grandma, and does she get it?

Wynne Greenwood: I haven’t ever really explained it to my grandma. Usually I say I had a show, and so maybe she might think it’s something like show and tell, and maybe it is. I say I’m in a band, I also say I’m a video artist and I just recently was able to push the words “performance artist” past my tongue. I guess I don’t really consider it acting, maybe re-enacting. You know, maybe it’s the difference between civil war re-enactors and Hollywood-actors. I’m performing a band.

JPK: I’ve been thinking a lot lately about artists who tour their own work or take their projects on the road (like Vanessa Renwick or Bill Daniel). It seems like you’re always touring and one is just as likely to find your work at an art space, museum, or club. How does this effect how you approach your work?

WG: I think what touring has effected most is what I need from my work. What I’ve come to need is a home, a sense of safety and trust. I demand that from my work and, consequently, from my audiences, wherever and whoever they are.

JPK: I recently read an offhand comment you made about how gallery affiliations are not something you are actively interested in. With a lot of artists, that’s basically all they want out of life. How does this fit with what you do?

WG: Well I honestly don’t know how a gallery would even be able to represent me and my work. It’s not like people can buy performances. It just amazingly eliminates my work from that context. At least I feel like it does.

JPK: You’ve been able to break this line between visual artists and music performers. For example, artists like Matthew Barney may put out cd’s, but non-art people aren’t going to buy it. In the same vein, bands have been relegated to take a less active role in art making. How do you think you broke that line? Could this only have been done as an (essentially) solo artist? Is the guise of electronic media a prerequisite for something like this?

WG: Well I think having a really strong community and precedent for total world-making gave me a path. I think about being a band on an independent label and how the bands have total creative control with their music, recordings, and artwork.

JPK: Relating to the last question, now that I think about it, it seems almost related to rock-operas in the 70’s, like Mr. Roboto. Of course, I picture Styx in this arena crowd, doing these crazy things. The differences with you are (at least from your performance here) 1. a lack of a formal stage, and 2. creating or marketing musical work in an independent form rather than a popular one. It seems so important to you that the barrier between performer and viewer be messed with, or at least that the viewer becomes a more active participant, can you explain this?

WG: Yeah, I guess that makes me necessarily not a pop performer. I guess I’m learning right now that maybe just performing my performance is enough to get the audience thinking about stuff that could potentially be revolutionary to their world and the bigger world they do participate in. I just haven’t been able to let go of the idea that we are all in this space together and what can happen, can be so much more than just the audience watching the performer. It’s such a special occasion when people are together in the same room, watching and listening, being present for the same thing. It’s been really rad to explore the performance of the audience and the spaces between the stage and the not-stage-- the spaces between listening and being listened to. When I first started playing shows as Tracy + the Plastics I would get wasted a lot before and during performing. It was the act of taking the space of the stage that was political and revolutionary to me. But as I began to be offered spaces and stages I really had to look at what was the revolution. With that space of the stage I was being offered a lot of power, a lot of time, a lot of authority. And it was so comfortable at first. I really had to reevaluate what I was doing up there. Did my lesbian body make that stage automatically radical when I stepped onto it? And if not, what would? The power of the microphone and the stage can be used in a lot of different ways for a lot of really awesome things. I began to find it most empowering to offer spaces to the audience that I was offered as a performer on the stage.

JPK: What was your primary response when the Tollbooth approached you for an installation?

WG: I was so honored to be asked to make a work for the Tollbooth, but also, so so excited to make a new kind of video and in a public space!!!

JPK: What appeals to you about a project like the Tollbooth?

WG: The Tollbooth is totally accessible. It’s free! It’s on a street in downtown!

JPK: What were your biggest concerns when approaching the project?

WB: Making something that was relevant to Tacoma, to the actual place of the Tollbooth. Also, I didn’t want the project to be too abstract.

JPK: How do you think video and paper based work lend themselves to a public art space?

WG: Well TV is becoming almost public when it’s in restaurants and bars and waiting rooms. I’m sure almost all of us know how to watch TV. And so, by default, we know how to watch videos. I like the Tollbooth because it is a TV in this structure that kind of abstracts it from being TV. And paper is everywhere. It’s homework, it’s news, it’s letters, it’s tax returns, it’s paychecks, it’s posters. It has a really humble and accessible authority, one that is easily torn up or tucked away.

JPK: What was the idea behind Maps to Radical Imagining, and how does it fit in to your past work?

WG: I was thinking about how we locate ourselves within a community, a town, a group of people and history and buildings and happenings. How do we locate hope and possibility, and what does the map to those things look like? Also that if we can imagine where we are and where we’ve been and where we want to be, we are that much closer to being there.

JPK: As part of the Maps to Radical Imagining installation at the Tollbooth, there was also a lecture for the students at SOTA and a performance that evening for the public. What was interesting about this for you?

WG: The future. Getting to talk about my past and present in order to maybe inspire someone’s future. That sounds so cheesy. But really it’s so true.

JPK: What was your favorite question a SOTA student asked you?

WG: I don’t remember the exact wording of the question, but in essence this kid somewhere around the 2nd row sitting down asked me about making something too abstract. I just remember having to really think about when, why and how I choose to make the meaning of my work explicit. It took me to the answer that I really do trust my audiences. But also there’s a really important time to know when to be unforgiving with your meaning. To demand that someone gets exactly what you want them to get. It’s powerful to be deliberate.

Oh, but there was also this girl who asked if it was normal to like have colors for things that she did. To be totally overwhelmed by the sensation of color and sound and all that. It was awesome to be able to be in a position to say “yes you are normal” to this girl who maybe walks around and thinks she’s a weirdo and maybe tries to not be her total self.

JPK: Part of putting on this performance was the fact that it was at a public high school, for high school kids, in a sort of blue collar town with certainly a lot of military, and you are dealing with nonprofits, the school asked specifically for us not to be overly “political”. I know you felt sort of challenged by that, especially since it was just a couple of weeks after the election. Did you think ultimately you were able to say what you wanted?

WG: Well that was really the first time I’ve given a talk like that. I think I was learning just as much about it as everyone else who was there.

JPK: After viewing your show, an artist friend of mine told me how excited she was to go visit the Feminist Cultural Archives (which she thought was real). How does this make you feel?

WG: Well hopefully she’ll be excited enough about the idea of going to the Feminist Cultural Archives that she’ll start them in her living room.

JPK: How was your project at the Kitchen with Fawn Krieger?

WG: It was totally life changing. We designed and built a performance space that included audience seating and entrance into the space. Every day, for three weeks, we worked to build this space. The process taught me how to honestly trust a project, a collaborator, and a vision enough to challenge it. There’s an interview about it at www.artwurl.org in the interview section. I think it might be specifically at: http://www.artwurl.org/issue7/popup8.html

JPK: What are you currently working on?

WG: I’m working on a new performance/video project called “NEW REPORT” w/ k8 hardy. We are a militant lesbian feminist news station called “WKRH” where we are always “pregnant with information.” And next I’ll be starting a series for TV called “Huge Days.”

JPK: Whose work are you excited about lately?

WG: Oh, I totally read this question as “what are you excited about lately?” So here’s that answer:

So much. Rock collecting, collaborations, 2005, LTTR, little sisters, big sisters, accessible abstraction, not giving up.

Interview with Tim Sullivan about Perfect Entrance

Wed, 23 Jan 2008 16:57:41 +0000

Perfect Entrance by San Francisco-based artist Tim Sullivan was, at its core, a commentary on the art world’s hyperbole regarding notions of ‘emerging artists’. Sullivan tackles the thin line between comedy and tragedy, impending doom, horror, slapstick, and vulnerability. A long form, repetitive video was at the core of Perfect Entrance. Surrounding the monolith were dime-store postcards of the City of San Francisco from years past. Sullivan invited viewers to remove the self-addressed and stamped cards noting a location on the postcard and asking him to do something at that location. This interactive exhibit allowed passersby to take a proactive role in artmaking by contributing to the performance of future works. It also went through an insane amount of cards.

Jared Pappas-Kelley: Your work is executed in a number of different mediums, but always maintains a very uniform and cohesive appearance. (I’m thinking of your luggage sculptures, photographs, and film/video work). How do you approach this?

Tim Sullivan: I never really try to make my work look like… my work. I am one artist making work, so I guess it just inevitably comes out looking similar. I have some obvious aesthetic choices that probably help this along, e.g.: deep red, pop imagery, vintage clothing, listening to joy division …whatever. I guess it all comes out whether I’m making a vibrating suitcase, a film, or a public work.

JPK: How would you describe your work?

TS: My work goes between being highly thought out, planned out, staged and highly intuitive. Sometimes I think about it for a year before I actually do anything about it, and other times the idea will come to me and I just make the piece instantly… I guess I’m talking about my process more than my work… With the use of props and gesture I try to affect the viewer through personal reflection and individual experience, in other words, starting with what I know: myself, my history, art history, pop culture and my immediate surroundings and hope to have some effect on what is out there: the viewer… the world. Much of my work is about gesture and miscommunication I guess.

JPK: How did the idea for Perfect Entrance come about?

TS: This piece was first a photographic series which was a direct response to a show I was in last year called EMERGE, it was this really ridiculous show for “emerging artists”. I thought it would be funny if for the “emerge” show I would just be emerging (jumping through the curtain). I later called it Perfect Entrance because a little before that, I was still new to San Francisco and was feeling a little uncomfortable making work. It was funny that I couldn’t just continue making work as I was… it felt necessary to make some sort of big splash since I was new on the scene: a ‘perfect entrance’, so to speak. So I was also thinking about that. I also thought that several images of an artist trying to work really hard at getting this thing “perfect” for the viewer and inevitably failing was kind of pathetic and fitting for that show. At any rate, this curator, Manray Hsu, told me that he thought it should be a video, I had been thinking about it as well so I tried it out. The problem was that it didn’t work at all as a narrative, so I put it on the back burner until the Tollbooth project came up; it seems like the perfect venue to play a continuous loop where the viewer can choose the duration.

JPK: What has the response to the postcards been like so far? [Sullivan had installed an interactive postcard based portion to his installation, utilizing the Tollbooth’s proximity to a row of mailboxes.]

TS: The response has been kind of overwhelming, I didn’t really expect there to be so many willing participants. I guess it just shows that the Tollbooth is making an impact. Let me think??? A lot of people have asked me to scale buildings, which has presented some problems… Someone wanted me to hold up a poster for their band, one with lederhosen and a chicken (I will do it!), some jumping off buildings (shame on you), some really great complicated ones that I won’t go into… a bunch of people gave really great ideas, yet didn’t provide their address??? So I’m unable to send them an image of our collaboration. One person actually asked me to pray for President Bush!!! I will, but I won’t say exactly what I’m praying for. I will say that I believe in a vengeful god that throws lightning bolts and tartar sauce from above.

JPK: What was the surprise that your wall text alluded to for viewers?

TS: Well, if they followed the directions and sent me a postcard, they would receive a return postcard that is essentially a collaboration between them and me. So, they get to be part of the art making process and they get a piece of work to commemorate this.

JPK: What was your initial response when approached to do an installation for the Tollbooth Gallery?

TS: I was really excited. The Tollbooth is a truly unique venue where one can really interact with the public and propose work that might not fly in more rigid institutions. I knew immediately that I wanted to do an interactive piece, but it was a bit difficult being here in San Francisco. That’s where the postcard idea came from. I had seen these really crappy postcards (with the worst view of San Francisco) laying around at a Salvation Army for about a year. The intersection depicted on the card is near my home and I kept thinking that there had to be something that I could do with them… So this was the perfect opportunity, and the fact that there is a mailbox next to the kiosk is even better.

JPK: What’s exciting to you about this kind of work?

TS: It’s always exciting to make work that really relies on the viewer to complete it. Isn’t there a Duchamp quote that goes something like “the viewer completes the work”? So I’m taking this very literally I guess, and asking the viewer to be a direct collaborator with me. It’s also exciting because you never know what you’re going to get. I’m ending up in some really bizarre situations here in San Francisco because some high school students, office workers, etc… in Tacoma wanted me to. That alone is kind of nice… And you never know where you might find good ideas.

JPK: What appeals to you about a project like the Tollbooth?

TS: First, I really love the idea of a 24 hour free art space. The fact that people walking to work in the morning, kids walking home from school, and someone walking home drunk at 3:00AM all have a chance to see contemporary video art is great. Also the fact that you’re pulling this out of the sterile museum/gallery setting is great. There is such little exposure to the arts these days, especially for kids, so new methods, like the tollbooth, need to be implemented. Did you know that most elementary and high schools no longer have art teachers?! (At least in California.) Most kids don’t even have the chance to explore this side of their intelligence and don’t even know that this is something that they could do, that this is important. The education system has become so hands off and academic it’s really sad. The idea of a well-rounded education is over. So blah, blah, blah, I know this all sounds pretty cliché these days, but it is true. I imagine the idea of going to a stuffy museum with all kinds of rules is a total snore to most kids, but checking out the Tollbooth, and maybe interacting with it, could be fun or even cool.

JPK: How does this fit your past work?

TS: I do a lot of work about failure; I hope that this has a feeling of making an attempt. …Trying and trying to perform, but always ending up in the same place, like Sisyphus.

JPK: Whose work are you excited about lately?

TS: I’ve been really obsessed with Bas Jan Ader, I like Trisha Donnelly and I’ve been looking at a lot of 17th century Dutch still-life, Maurizio Cattelan is great.

JPK: What are you currently working on?

TS: Well I’m working more than fulltime as an art consultant/teacher, so it’s been pretty difficult. I’m working on some photos with the legendary underground/camp filmmaker George Kuchar. He’s an idol of mine so it’s really exciting to work with him. You know he’s a contemporary of people like Warhol, Anger, and Brackage, so he has all kinds of crazy stories and he’s really one of the most prolific, amazing, and hilarious people I’ve ever met. Yeah, so it’s photos of him and me interacting. In one we recreate the SHOOT piece by Chris Burden (the one where he gets shot in the arm) and George is playing the part of Chris. It’s pretty damn hilarious.

Interview with Delta Camshaft Collective

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 19:53:09 +0000

Rorschach Notions, a collaborative installation featuring the work of a group of artists going by the name of the Delta Camshaft Collective, was part of a larger event entitled Scattered Ephemera, which culminated in city-wide exhibitions and a performance by NPR commentator author, Andrei Codrescu.  Rorschach Notions took its name from late 19th Century Swiss psychologist Hermann Rorschach who pioneered the usage of inkblot tests in modern psychological analysis. The exhibit consisted of a video screen flashing period photos of Tacoma while two ‘subjects’ interpreted the narrative. On the reverse side of the kiosk was an interactive paper installation of antique wall paper, artist drawings, and prints that implored the viewer to remove and explore, thus creating their own modern ephemera.

Tollbooth: What is Rorschach Notions and how did the idea come about?

Delta Camshaft Collective: Well, like any good collaboration, we were tossing around ideas, trying to make things gel. We wanted to do a video that paired random Tacoma photos with made up narrative, like a Rorschach interpretation. We were determined to make the wheatpaste component more present and interactive than we had seen so far. We got the idea that we wanted to have people pull something away to reveal an image underneath; again, the idea of pieces/parts of a puzzle, the impossibility of having the whole story. We decided to use vintage wallpaper with a pastoral print and we painted on the back of the wall paper and created decals of old Woolworths ads that we collaged over the painting. Then we perforated the paper so that each person could pull away a secret prize that would be a ‘lil artwork in itself.

TB: How did Rorschach Notions tie in with the larger Scattered Ephemera project?

DCC: Scattered Ephemera was a project that brought together artists from Houston, New Orleans, and the greater Puget Sound to ‘mine’ the site of its memories. The building adjacent to the Tollbooth is an old Woolworth building, so visiting artists all created site-specific works about Woolworth and the other lives of the site. The idea of history as a collection of ephemera is a perfect metaphor for Rorschach Notions; stories are told about images that are invented, but so much of our history is the collection of stories, some more accurate than others. The crossover with the word ‘notion’ both as a little something that one might buy at Woolworths and an idea worked perfectly. Scattered Ephemera was a collection of perceptions recapitulated into new renderings that stand in line to be recycled as history.

TB: How do you think paper based work and video lend themselves to public art space?

DCC: Paper provides a great tactile, immediate contrast to “piped in” imagery via monitor and speakers. If the content is integrated, the contrast can strengthen both elements.

TB: The Tollbooth is billed as the world's smallest gallery dedicated to paper/wheat paste fine art and experimental video. For your installation, you developed the paper element more elaborately than some of the other shows. How did you approach this?

DCC: We exaggerated the tactile by encouraging the viewer to touch and take away the paper, allowing something concrete to linger. The wheat paste component also can grab viewers at a greater distance, and the wallpaper we wrapped the booth with was so out of place outside that it called for examination.

TB: Describe the process of putting the paper aspect together.

DCC: We knew we wanted to have people take away something revealing something underneath. We were thinking about a million cut out socks that were printed with letterpress and had secret messages. Then we found out the difficulty of that. It was made to be dissected and exist in parts throughout the country. Imagery from old Woolworths ads was the final touch to tie it to the site.

TB: How did the paper side work out logistically?

DCC: We combined some old and new tricks in unusual ways to make it work: xerox transfers with packing tape, perforating vintage wallpaper with a 100 year-old machine, and good old hand lettering. Results happened after collaborative experimentation; none of them what was originally intended, but still satisfying.

TB: What appeals to you about a project like the Tollbooth?

DCC: The 24-hour immediate access and interaction with the street scene make it a great performance piece. I’ve described it to other artists out of town and they just can’t imagine what I’m describing, but they love how it sounds.

TB: What was involved with the video aspect of the project?

DCC: Everything for Scattered Ephemera was sounding a little “historical”, so we wanted to put together something that explored how stories and oral history comes about… but that riffed a bit on the authoritative tone. First we raided the downtown public library’s image archive for the city and got copies of images from the local paper. Then we mixed in a few family scrapbook images. We then sat down and administered a Rorschach test where we showed the images to two people. We asked them, what is this, and what’s going on? The whole thing turned into a farcical psychological profile of local history… although I don’t know if it’s more revealing about the city or the people taking the test.

TB: As artists, what's the most interesting thing to observe about people interacting with the work in a public space like the Tollbooth?

DCC: With our specific project, I was amazed at how furious one woman got regarding the ‘inaccuracies’ of the narrative. She demanded to know if the Washington State Historical Society had been contacted. That is what is so cool, that it stops people and they are typically unsure about what they are witnessing. I am just as amazed by those who actually take time to stop and figure it out as I am with those who allow the unknown to irritate them.

TB: The Tollbooth has been getting a lot of attention lately as a project, especially for such a relatively small and publicly funded one. Do you have any thoughts on this?

DCC: It is good and unusual. Small and mighty is great.

My Interview with Vanessa Renwick about Rising Up: A collaboration with the People’s History Poster Project and Donovan Skirvin

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 18:24:26 +0000

Portland based filmmaker and artist Vanessa Renwick collaborated with the Celebrate People's History Poster Project and audio artist Donovan Skirvin to create an installation entitled "Rising Up" at the Tollbooth Gallery, the World's Smallest Gallery Dedicated Exclusively to Experimental Video and Wheat-Pasted Paper Fine Arts in Tacoma, Wa.
Jared Pappas-Kelley: I am familiar with your work primarily through projects like the Lucky Bum Film Tour and Richart. Can you give me a little background on what these are and how they came about?
Vanessa Renwick: The Lucky Bum Film Tour was a film and video installation tour that Bill Daniel and I went on in 2002/2003 to seventy venues across the US and Canada. I was showing about 12 of my shorts, and Bill Daniel was showing a 2-projector video installation on hobo graff called "The Girl on the Train in The Moon". One of the movies I was showing was "Richart", which is a 23 minute documentary I made with a friend here in Portland, Dawn Smallman, about Richard Tracy, an artist who lives in Centralia, WA. I met Richart about 12 years ago, juts driving thru Centralia when I saw a house that was almost completely covered in sculpture. I stopped and got a 5-minute tour from Richart, as he called himself, and always made a point to visit him on trips north on I-5. I took a few workshops from him with my kids. The classes were in clay, Styrofoam, and collage. I always thought he would make an awesome documentary subject, as he is really inspiring to me, and when I met Dawn, who is really into outsider art, I asked if she wanted to make the flick with me. It has shown at the Andy Warhol Museum, the Smithsonian, all over the place.
JPK: There is a different dynamic as a viewer seeing work that the artist has taken on the road and is touring. How is it different as the artist presenting?
VR: Bill and I tend to stay away from festivals. Your work gets lost in a huge sea of films, and you do not have much chance to connect with your audience. When you hit the road with your work, your Q&A can go as long as people want it to. You have a chance to get some feedback on those works you have been toiling away on almost by yourself for so long. You make a lot of new friends along the way, and build up a network of venues for other makers to use. We try to show outside of traditional film venues as much as possible, galleries, museums, schools, punk rock basements, outside somewhere...
JPK: What draws you to this kind of work?
VR: Documentary in new forms is what really excites me. I consider myself an artist and an activist, and being a documentarian really allows me to do both in one fell swoop. Poetic justice.
JPK: What was your primary response when the Tollbooth approached you for an installation?
VR: I liked the idea of work outside where anyone can see it. That's a problem sometimes with video and film, the equipment is so expensive that it is hard to have things going 24 hours in public spaces outside.
JPK: What appeals to you about a project like the Tollbooth?
VR: I liked being able to collaborate with all the artists who have made posters for the Celebrate People's History Poster Project. I don't really do works on paper, and I thought that their work, which is made to be plastered up outside for all to see would be perfect for it. Also, that it is poster/flyer based, and kiosks are all about communicating with flyers.
JPK: Can you tell me a little about the People's History Project and Donovan Skirvin and how the collaboration for Rising Up came about?
VR: Donovan Skirvin has been doing sound for a lot of my films, videos, and installations since 98. I usually come up with the imagery, edit it, and then pass it on to Donovan with some suggestions of sound I want, or actual recordings of different sounds that I would like woven into the composition. With this piece, Donovan made the score pretty much on his own, I told him what my idea was for the video and posters going together, that this person in the video piece, going down in the freight elevator (who is Donovan), is in a sewer soup, going down, down, down in his life without any hope or initiative to do anything. A person who is drowning in the sewer soup of today's mess of the USA. It is so depressing to be living here in these times. To be a US citizen is a confusing thing. I saw an ad on the bus shelter in SF last week. A beautiful picture of New Zealand with the words" New Zealand: defectors welcome" I think that kind of sums up the torn feelings a lot of people are having being US citizens during the Bush reign. So, I thought it would be great to juxtapose this person going down in the freight elevator, who I think is a lot of us, with the posters from the celebrate people's history poster project, posters that celebrate heroes, people who got off their asses, out of the sewer soup, and did something radical to try a make the world a better place. Donovan has also done scores with Miranda July. I was aware of the Celebrate People's History Poster Project because some friends of mine, including my friend and favorite artist, Icky, had produced posters for the series. It is a project of the artist Josh MacPhee from Just Seeds. Here is what the project is about in his words:  "The series is an on-going project producing posters that focus around important moments in "people's history." These are events, groups, and individuals that we should celebrate because of their importance in the struggle for social justice and freedom, but are instead buried or erased by dominant history. Posters celebrate important acts of resistance, those who fought tirelessly for justice and truth, and the days on which we can claim victories for the forces of freedom. In the past 5 years over a dozen posters have been produced on a variety of subjects, from the Battle of Homestead to Fred Hampton, Malcolm X to Jane, an underground abortion collective. These posters have been and will continue to be posted publicly (i.e. wheat pasted on the street, put up in peoples home and storefront windows, and used in classrooms) in an attempt to help generate a discussion about our radical past, a discussion that is vital in preparing us to create a radical future. I have also been using this project to create a loose network of artists interested in creating radical public art and showcasing the work of unknown artists that want to create art that is functional, carries a social message, and doesn't get buried at the bottom of the heap of the capitalist "art world."
JPK: How do you think paper based work and video lend themselves to public art space?
VR: I am actually kind of leery of putting video out in public spaces. I think that images on monitors can be pretty invasive, T.V.'s in bars as an example. If I wanted to watch TV I would watch it in my house. I haven't watched TV in over 25 years, well, maybe a total of 3 hours of TV in those 25 years, where I was stuck in a snowstorm at my folks house, or at some motel, but I hate the medium the way it is now, and really hate being near TV's in public spaces because of what TV is. Paper is awesome. It is pretty damn cheap and one can slap it up anywhere. Artists Jessica Lynch of Slow Shirts has a great recipe for wheat paste. Someone whose paper work really excites me is Swoon. The Wooster Collective is a good place to see tons of communication going on in the public space. I just finished another public installation "Patriot Act" which had words out of neon tubing in glass library cases and paper copies of the U.S.A. Patriot Act for people to read. This was situated inside a library.
JPK: The work on display in a space like the Tollbooth seems fragile in that there really isn't much separating the work from the viewer. If somebody doesn't like part of the installation, the work could easily be altered, damaged, vandalized, or stolen at any time. How does that fit into how you approach the project?
VR: Well, I am pretty amazed people's work hasn't been messed with much yet, although I did just hear from you that the poster of Judy Bari just got ripped down by someone. Judi was a non-violent forest activist who was bombed, and then was absurdly charged by the FBI for carrying explosives. Who would want her poster down? An FBI agent strolling by? Work wheat pasted up outside is all about transformation of public space, open to the possibility of others coming along and collaborating or obliterating your piece.
JPK: How does this project fit into your past work?
VR: I like to present different sides of issues in a lot of my work and to make work that focuses on subjects full of hope and passion... there may be despair in there somewhere, but I really want to make work that moves one forward in some way.
JPK: What are you currently working on?
VR: I am making an installation for the PDX Contemporary Art Gallery window project in August. That piece is kind of another public art thing, since it is in a window facing the street. So far I have some ideas that are floating around, but nothing concrete for that yet. I have one goofy idea, which would probably sell, but feel like I should nix that and do something more relevant to the neighborhood it is in. the Pearl District is a horrible high-end consumer yuppie monocrop, I would really like to take advantage of having a window in that neighborhood to somehow comment on what I see happening to that part of town.
I have a new 3 projector, 23-minute installation piece, "Hope and Prey" that I will be taking on the road with Bill Daniel as part of the Heart Attack Island Film Tour in the NW this late August/Early Sept.
I have a video refrigeration installation that will be at the Sun Valley Center for the Arts in November.
The most important thing I am working on is "Critter", an experimental documentary essay on the wolf coming back into the West. I have been working on it for 5 1/2 years now, and want to shoot it on 16mm in B&W, so fundraising for Critter is what consumes a lot of my time. I am hopeful.

My interview with Denise Smith about Stepback

Thu, 20 Dec 2007 17:49:35 +0000

Stepback by Olympia-based artist Denise Smith is a meditation on the merit of stepping back from the brink. Outward focus and forward momentum in concepts such as western expansion, onward and upward, and full speed ahead, inform the modern way of life, but sometimes the next step sends us over the edge. Denise Smith explored this pattern at her Tollbooth Gallery installation.

Jared Pappas-Kelley: I'm primarily familiar with your film and video work, but you also have a background in photography, opera, and performance. How does this inform your work?  Denise Smith: I suppose the forms of musical structure and rhythm guide everything I do. Music is just in us. It's in everything. Through the photographic process I recognized that I tend to fetishize the visual; I still do that. As for performance I don't know what to say. Um, well, I guess I still incorporate little, subtle performance into my work whenever I can because performance can be such an intimate way to communicate with people.   JPK: What's your most important 'job' as artist?   DS: My most important job as an artist is to try to be free and at peace.   JPK: You and I recently had an opportunity to see Andrei Codrescu perform in collaboration with the Scattered Ephemera project. What did you walk away from this with?   DS: His wallet. Sorry Andrei. Also it seems like people are hungry for stories, especially stories in which the storyteller exposes some of their vulnerability through self deprecation. That engages people and seems to offer some needed sense of human connection.   JPK: What have you been working on lately?   DS: Um, The Course in Miracles and forgiveness, fabric design and a line of clothes and bags.  JPK: What kind of work is exciting to you lately?   DS: Meditation and prayer.  JPK: How did you approach your project at the Tollbooth gallery, and did you have any concerns about the nature of the venue?   DS: Um, well, I prayed for an idea. Then I got one. Then I made the project. And, then you guys installed it. As for concerns I suppose for a whole minute I worried that the project might attract people with foot fetishes, but then I probably got hungry again and forgot to worry about it. Not that I think there's any shame in that sort of thing or anything.   JPK: The title of your installation is Stepback, and I have a paraphrased quote from you about how the world currently seems so chaotic and out of control, but that each of us needs to pause and take a step back from the void and the way will be shown to us. I'm sorry if I'm paraphrasing this badly, but for me this struck a chord about how each of us needs to restrict our negative side of our egos and take control back from the side that lets fear and our sense of entitlement chase us into awful situations like war and strife. I read your installation as a call to pause and ground ourselves and to heed the quiet voice. How would you respond to this?   DS: Um, yeah. That sounds good.   JPK: I know that you and Michael Lent have talked about starting a new project in response to so much dowdy public art being out there. Can you tell me more about that?   DS: Um no. It’s very serious, top secret, guerilla art. I can however pose the question: doesn't everything look better in a nice outfit? And, um does anybody have hundreds of yards of fabric they'd love to donate to a good cause?   JPK: I am always impressed with the way you approach daily life. More than most people I've worked with, you have integrated an artistic way of living into your daily routine, but not in a pretentious way. Sometimes you even seem to have little art chores. How do you respond to this?   DS: Gosh. Thanks. Yeah, um, you should see me do the dishes.   JPK: What's one person whose work hasn't been shown at the Tollbooth that you think it would be important to include?   DS: Yeah. Can you guys get the Dalai Lama? Oh, and Paris Hilton?  JPK: How would you describe the current art climate and how do projects like the Tollbooth fit into that?  DS: I don't know a thing about the current art climate, but I think it might be foggy in the morning and then partly sunny with a chance of rain and wind and maybe a little sleet and snow. Um yeah, the Tollbooth- I like that the Tollbooth's takin' it to the streets. Institutions seem to make art into hunting trophies. Or, maybe I'm just projecting. Do you know if there are any good, local taxidermy programs?

Some Say She Lost Her Head

Wed, 19 Dec 2007 22:24:15 +0000

Artists Jared Pappas-Kelley and Corey Lund created the multi-media installation Some Say She Lost Her Head, which combined found video footage and an original soundtrack displayed on the Tollbooth's monitor, with a public-interactive paper based element on the reverse. Viewers were invited to add to the installation by coloring the missing head with provided chalk. Music emanated from the kiosk eliciting another response from the pedestrians, making viewer aware of the video on the 24" monitor.

So you have the honor of having the first show at the Tollbooth Gallery; Can you explain to me a little about the idea?

Jared Pappas-Kelley: I had finished this one channel projection called Some Say She Lost Her Head and had shown it around the country at a number of institutions and screenings, but felt it would be interesting to work it into something new. For me, it’s a pretty mysterious piece and I wanted to develop it into something that added to this impression. I think it definitely benefited from being the first installation at the Tollbooth Gallery, because one day there was nothing there and the next, Some Say She Lost Her Head was just there with no real explanation. Nobody really knew what to do with it, but we got all this really amazing feedback. It definitely didn’t hurt that it snowed heavily for the first time of the season on the day of our opening, which completely transformed the space. Everything was pure and white and muffled in that strange way that snow is... everything was still and quiet. You could hear the audio track traveling softly through the snow for blocks away and it led you to this little calm video project in the midst of the snowstorm. I think I’ll only install it when it’s snowing from now on! But at the same time we had just installed this video equipment outdoors and were trying it out for the first time in sub-freezing weather. Everyday, we drove by hoping it wouldn’t be frozen solid. I mean it was all theoretical that it would work in the snow… trial by ice.

TB: How did you come up with the interactive idea behind it? Do you think the goals of the piece were a success?

JPK: I had been planning to do an installation utilizing the woman from Some Say She Lost Her Head stenciled onto slates, where the viewer was given chalk and instructed to color her until her head was gone. The Tollbooth was the same idea, but on a bigger scale. We coated the surface of the Tollbooth with that chalkboard spray paint, then reverse-stenciled the paper image over it with directions for the viewer to color out her head until it disappeared using chalk we supplied. We really didn’t know what to expect. People could have just stolen all the chalk or written on all the surrounding buildings. That was part of it, putting the project into the viewers hands and seeing where they’d go with it. I actually ended up buying way more chalk than we needed, expecting to have to constantly replace it, but everyone was amazingly respectful. So yes, in that I think the goals of the project were successful. Somebody wrote something like, “Skinny Puppy Rulz”, on it which made me smile... What year is this?

TB: Did you feel compelled to create an interactive element as opposed to just creating a ‘picture’? How did this limit or contribute to the final work?

JPK: Yeah, I suppose I did. I think I felt the need to set a tone for the project as something more interactive. I guess I could have just made something that was more aesthetically pretty, but I was more interested in breaking that barrier between viewer/viewed and public/shared space.

TB: What were the challenges in creating the first work in this new space, and how did you come up with a paper-based element to go alongside with the already-existing video, especially with no history of shows to reference?

JPK: I definitely wanted to set the stage and do something that said “hey, this is a space where something dynamic can happen.” I thought of it as different elements being combined to create something new. First you had the Tollbooth itself, which is this rather solemn freestanding concrete structure. Then there are the video and audio elements that someone recently described as Dadaist Butoh or Buster Keaton in drag. Then there was the paper aspect that drew in the viewer and got them involved. I wasn’t that cerebral about it, but that’s kind of how I thought about it in my head.

TB: Give me some background on the video: where is it from, and how does this relate to the piece (or is it so out of context that it’s unimportant)?

JPK: Well, the video is actually built out of about 2.5 seconds of found footage, which turns out was part of a film project by Baum who wrote The Wizard of Oz. He did this project around the turn of the last century and our piece was created out of those 2.5 seconds, which we digitally re-worked completely. All the audio score was completely sequenced and built out of the original audio as well. The process reminded me almost of DNA, where we took this tiny fractional piece and blew it up into this epic thing.

TB: You’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback and praise for “Some Say She Lost Her Head.” Do you feel that it’s more successful as a projected stand-alone video or as an installation?

JPK: I personally think it’s more interesting as an installation. I think it allows people to get further into it, but people seem to be just as into it as a stand alone. For me, I tend to think of it as two separate entities, but I like the versatility that it works in a number of different arenas.

TB: I don’t want to get into talking about the Tollbooth Project itself (that’s another interview) but I’m interested, when we first got the idea for the project we fantasized about these uber-interactive works that really blurred the lines between communications and artmaking/participation. Do you feel that this is a fundamental part of the project or is a successful exhibit not necessarily dependent on utilizing this aspect? Maybe this is the wrong place for this question…

JPK: I don’t think the farthest reach of what this project could be has been reached by any stretch of the imagination. I keep waiting for somebody to really push it to that point where I go “wow, this is what it’s all really about”… Everyone who has been showing is really top notch and has been creating impressive work, so I keep waiting for that one that just really crystallizes it for me and turns it into something new. I don’t think a show has to necessarily utilize this interactivity to be successful. Vanessa Renwick’s show with the People’s History Project was basically a video loop with a series of posters, but it was powerful and worked extremely well. Tim Sullivan’s work definitely takes advantage of the space and its interactive potential with his mail project and the adjoining mailboxes. I’m curious to see what Wynne Greenwood will do.

TB: People always think that sound on this piece is some sort of formal composition. I know the real story behind it, but would you share how it came about?

JPK: Are you saying it’s not a formal composition? Actually the sound is just as important as the video for this. For most work like this, the video is cut to match an audio score or the audio score is composed to match the video. We literally created them at the same time, so it was very organic how it came about. Some Say She Lost Her Head was definitely improvisational by nature.

TB: What kind of other projects are you working on?

JPK: Lately I’ve been working on a guerilla audio sculpture called The Story of Home, built out of interviews I did with people whose families were involved and grew up in this utopian community in rural Washington called “Home” around the turn of the last century. I also interviewed historian Charles LeWarne who wrote Utopias on the Puget Sound. The Story of Home is a mobile audio sculpture that will be temporarily installed at different locations around the region. In the piece, I attempt to blur the fact that these people are speaking about a historical place called “Home” and elevate it into a piece about conceiving the potential of what home can and should be, and then working to build that around ourselves. The piece lasts for exactly one hour and each site where it is installed is designated “Home” for that hour. I am also currently putting together a touring program of film and video, so I’ve been busy.

TB: Do you think you’ve ‘put away’ this sort of traditional videomaking that you’ve been doing in favor of more interactive or installation-type projects?

JPK: I don’t know if I necessarily put it away. I’ve never had any interest in making movies. I think I’m more interested in making work that’s flexible and benefits from being experienced in different types of venues. I like work that has a life of its own. I usually think of the video as just one aspect of a project. I’ve also been doing a lot of writing that ties in with this type of work.

TB: Why do you think the press always cuts the name of this show in half to either ‘Some Say’ or ‘Lost Her Head’ or even ‘She Lost Her Head’?

JPK: I’m not really sure. Maybe they’re paying for the words by the inch? What’s funny is that the cutting of the name could almost be seen as an illustration of what the project is about… but I’m not that deep.

TB: At what point do you stop working on the piece, or does it ever end? Especially with this sort of non-linear/non-narrative video project, I’m curious to know how the decision is made to end the piece or stop repetition.

JPK: It’s definitely a case of when it feels done. If you overwork it, it just turns into a big wash. I usually work something a lot but leave it kind of rough, then come back to it after some time with fresh eyes and re-edit it. It’s all pretty intuitive, but eventually it just gels into something new and it’s suddenly this whole other thing. A lot of times, an element from one piece will get worked into a new project, but I am most pleased when I can step away from something and see it like a year later and be all “how’d I do that?” or “is that mine?” It’s kind of hard to explain.

TB: What shows are you looking forward to at the Tollbooth, and who would you like to see exhibit?

JPK: As I said before, I’m definitely curious to see what Wynne Greenwood comes up with and I keep hearing about this new project that Alex Schweder has been working on and is installing at the Tollbooth next year. I guess I’d be most excited to see something really amazing by somebody I’ve never heard of before.

Interview with Jared Pappas-Kelley and Michael Lent about creating the Tollbooth

Tue, 18 Dec 2007 17:35:00 +0000

How did the Tollbooth Gallery project come about?

Michael Lent: The Tollbooth started, I think, when we were hanging your show at the Woolworth's building. That was fucking horrible because they weighed so much and the walls were paper thin. But I remember being locked in those windows and staring at this ugly kiosk that was right outside. The roof had this sort of blue tarp awning that was rotting away and covered in bird shit. The rest of it was this sort of 70/80's pebble concrete with the word 'HAPPENINGS' etched into each side. The monitor itself was this sort of sunken-ship porthole that was covered in tags and rusted onto the structure. I remember thinking how stupid it was to make a concrete sort of post-ing structure, and then there were all these staples from where people hung signs the only place they would stick -the monitor cover. Anyway, then I remember at some point the 2 of us just sort of silently thinking about it, and then we had a meeting with the city over coffee, and somehow out of the blue I said "I want that rotting kiosk!". We were kind of shocked that they took us seriously and we started the ball rolling.

I'm not sure how the whole concept started though, I mean it already had contained this monitor, and you were working on a lot of video, so that was sort of a given. I guess we just sort of evolved the ideal of hanging paper into wheat paste art.

Jared Pappas-Kelley: Yeah, the Tollbooth structure was pretty scary before… It’s one of those structures I’ve been passing by for years. I remember seeing it in the early 90’s and it was just as trashed even back then. So, it’s this thing in downtown Tacoma that I just remember walking past, and you’re right, it definitely had a sunken-ship porthole thing about it… I don’t know if I would have put it that way, but that’s pretty close to the way I saw it too. The structure had been put in place by TV Tacoma as part of an urban renewal project that fell into disrepair… a really long time ago, then it was abused for many years. Originally, you could watch the city council meetings or read announcements about “happenings” in Tacoma, which always reminded me of something out of the book 1984.

Anyway, it fell into disrepair and eventually you and I started bouncing around ideas and the whole thing was pretty organic from there. I remember the screen that secured the monitor into the structure was completely bolted in place with locked bolts… and we literally had to cut it open to get into the structure. Nobody had opened it in at least 20 years I’m sure. Everything was rusted shut. I had these awful irrational thoughts of opening the box and having it just be filled with rats like in a horror movie, or that we’d find hypodermic needles or something. It was kinda like a really nasty time capsule. The monitor was completely fried and there was this thick layer of grime coating everything.

ML: Yeah, well cutting it open and all of that work was really insane. And not being very construction-minded I’m sure it was hilarious for the people walking by to see us trying to cut this thing open with dremmels that kept breaking and sparks shooting everywhere.

How did the whole wheat paste thing come about?

ML: Well, this is sort of a longer story. I think as a teenager I was always really into museums and stuff, sort of in addition to the work I thought I was making. So I would like cut school or on the weekends, and I would get my friends and we would sneak into the Carnegie Museum of Art through the employee entrance. This happened a lot more right after I graduated and we would spend days inside the Mattress Factory, of course we were broke so we always just slipped in somehow, but I think that really affected the way I thought about art--at least museums and access to works. I was also reading a lot of old Artforums that a teacher had and reading a lot about these 80's art activist organizations, gran fury and the guerilla girls.

Anyway so then I was at art school at Tyler, and I dropped out for awhile so I could do work with act up. Basically, I just lived in these squat houses or the office and being a little radical kid. So we would sneak around at night and wheatpaste demonstration posters around Philadelphia (at the same time this was the beginning of turning that kind of work and graffiti into marketing and branding ploys, those Obey Andre the Giant posters were just starting around Philly and NYC) That's where I learned the whole milk-paste thing, which is really disgusting but works pretty well. And I was learning this shit from these like old-school anarchist kids and learning about what you could get away with and what you couldn’t. At the same time I was going back and forth between DC and New York a lot, so this was a different experience. It was just the beginning of the Guiliani terror years in NYC and wheat pasting signs was a serious crime, and the capitol police were outlawing stickers and shit, especially ones of a political nature. Anyway, I was doing that shit for awhile, then I eventually went back to school (which I knew I would end up doing anyway). I sort of can't escape art, so if I had the opportunity with act up to do more of these radical art-as-activism things, I probably would have stayed.

When I got back to Tyler it was sort of difficult, because I was so resolved to being an activist and wanting to do this shit, so I didn’t want to stare at models and draw the same old shit. I was really torn about the pretentious art world and the fact that everyone talked about their work like it was so goddamn important, but no one else was ever going to see it besides other art people. I was also really fed up with this whole obsession with abstract work that really couldn’t say anything to a regular person. So I had these fantasies of making these giant paintings and strapping them to telephone poles so that everyone could see them, and in my painting classes I was making signs so that people couldn’t 'read shit into them'.

Eventually I guess I calmed down, but I still have this persistent problem in my head of how to justify art in the greater scheme of things. But of course, I also hate fucking community projects (although Philly has some amazing murals). So with the Tollbooth we sort of finally had this opportunity to combine all of these different things. We created a project that is really out there into the community (and without all the input from the normal crazies who run these projects into the ground) at the same time showing this amazing work that people would pay at least museum admissions to see. Plus we actually get to pay artists (although a very small fee) to create the work -and really that is doing a huge service in itself. I think I really get the most excited when we have a show that is sort of political, and I don’t know if it’s because of the artists or the nature of the project, although I’d like to believe the latter. With Wynne's (Greenwood) show and Vanessa's (Renwick) show we had these politics for the masses, not so blatant that it was vote for this person or believe this. But it really showed some of the most important ideas for the person who is just walking down the street, and I would hope that they are sort of common ideas.

JPK: Yeah, a lot of my work has been guerrilla or unsanctioned… actually, that’s not true, but I have a body of ongoing projects that go back about ten years that incorporate wheat paste or some sort of interventions in public spaces. You definitely had an advantage with being able to go to the Mattress Factory whenever you wanted… It’s an amazing institution. I think it’s pretty bizarre that more people don’t know more about it. Anyway, several years back I did this project called “Natural Selection” where I wheat pasted hundreds of different animal shapes that were cut out of the recycled newspaper into urban settings and then documented their “survival rate” as a project. The newspaper animals that stood out a lot from their background, were usually the first to be removed. The ones that tended to last longest were the grayish ones installed on grayish concrete buildings… although as time passed, they eventually started to yellow from the acids in the cheap newsprint, so eventually they really stood out yellow against their gray background. Some of these animals are still in place and I see them around town. I think that by the time they turned yellow, people were so used to seeing these secret little animals, that they didn’t really see them anymore. Also, there was a cuteness factor that seemed to allow certain paper animals to last longer. The birds were usually the first to be removed… apparently people don’t like birds much. The weird squirrel animal (I’m not really sure what I intended them to be) lasted a bit longer, but bunnies seemed to last the longest. Go figure. Anyway, the whole project reminded me of in science class where they talked about the extinction of brown rabbits in white snow or about the white moths that became extinct in the industrial revolution from coal powered factories. The factories coated everything in black coal dust making the moths stand out more, making them easier prey. I liked that the project could have a point, but was also camouflaged by its cute factor. Tasty, yet subversive.

I also did a project years ago called “Love Meters” where I painted all of the parking meters (you know the 1980’s kind that kinda look like hearts on a stick) pastel colors with water-soluble paint early in the morning on Valentine’s Day. Then I stenciled on little slogans like “Ask Me” or “Sugar Daddy” or “Hubba Hubba” onto them like those dumb little chalky candies. So you could buy 15 minutes of love for a quarter… I wonder if the city got a little surge in parking revenue that day…

Anyway, I had been working on projects like that for a number of years, and wanted to bring that experience into the direction the Tollbooth Gallery should take. I felt there was a sort of dilemma that if we just renovated the Tollbooth structure and simply replaced the roof and monitor… then the project would basically be the same as what had been there before. It would essentially be a TV in a public space broadcasting something… and it would eventually just burn out like its predecessor. By turning the structure into the world’s smallest gallery dedicated to video and wheat paste, it became an ongoing site for exhibiting site specific installations that were really a challenge to the artists commissioned and were sure to produce some intriguing results.

I also really liked the idea that there was literally nothing separating the work from the public or the elements… the format tends to produce work that is more time based or more of a “living” piece. I also really like that the materials are extremely cheap, so that if a paper piece gets damaged, the artist can just glue another version up… or let the damage be a part of the work. It’s also extremely rare that people come into contact with challenging and engaging work for free in a public space and that the project is open and available 24 hours a day to anyone who happens upon it.

ML: I think this whole idea of urban renewal public projects is really one of the most attractive things about Tacoma. Years ago I was lucky enough to make an installation for Aliquippa Projects, which is where all of these artists come into this decrepit little steel town in Pennsylvania. You pretty much have free range over space in the town especially with abandoned buildings. So we created this installation in the G.C. Murphy’s building using a lot of found objects in the room. It was this abandoned old department store, but when we peeled off the paint on the walls there was this beautiful old wallpaper. Plus there was this enormous table that filled the room and all of these birdcages. Anyway, the show was called Enveloped Angels, and we basically dealt with a lot of racial issues, urban issues —abandonment of industry. It was sort of my first public showing of work that was at this community level. Plus I was only like 18 so it was terrifying to take work out of a classroom or gallery filled with ‘art people’ and let it have public scrutiny. Plus dealing with this political work, you know it garnered a little controversy, which is always terribly exciting. In a lot of ways the Tollbooth for me still relates to that excitement. And its weird to see it sit outside of this old Woolworth’s building which is essentially the same thing as that Murphy’s. Growing up around these steel towns and eventually moving to Philadelphia, has left me with a strong affection for these abandoned pieces of architecture. Tacoma has such a great working-class tradition that these other places have, which makes it great to create these projects. I mean, the Tollbooth is totally D.I.Y., it gets acid-rained on and abused, but it is still at its core this giant piece of old crappy concrete. We could have made this fantastic project that was all shiny and new and technologically advanced, but it physically would never have survived this town.

The response has been awesome. Really, beyond what I had imagined. The press has been very supportive, the public too. You know, our office phone number is actually posted on the Tollbooth and we get calls at all times from people who are standing right outside of the gallery and calling on their mobile phones. Every single one has been really positive, and that is really what keeps it going. We have escaped any major vandalism. Really the only negative experiences I have had are from a few sort of peripheral art organizations and folks. It’s weird that some of these ‘art’ people are the ones that are so reactive. I dunno, maybe they think we are cramping their ‘grassroots’ reputation. And like these idiots that post their stupid flyers on the booth. I mean it’s pretty obvious that this is some sort of art project, so why are you trying to cover it with your stupid poster for the rodeo or losing weight fast? But really it’s the same things that draw me to a project of this nature that also aggravates the hell out of me. Like I want public interaction, but I don’t want people posting their own stupid art on it. I guess what it really comes down to is fuck the art people, I’d really be happier if some street kid spray painted “this thing sucks’ on the tollbooth than someone trying to display their own ‘art’ on it. Because really the Tollbooth is totally punk rock, and I can respect that a lot more than someone trying to get exposure or just start something. And if you want a show all you have to do is ask! It is a testament to this town that it can be so supportive of projects like this. And we have, of course, worked a lot with TaCo, and we brought Wynne to town to do a lecture/performance for the students at SOTA.