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The world of contemporary creation now has a specialized actor that can federate all its activities in one place. As our relationship to Art changes and as more and more projects are launched to make Art more accessible, Art and You becomes the contemporary art meeting point.




On the occasion of the Rencontres Internationales Paris / Berlin / Madrid in 2008, Art and You met Ubermorgen and Marc Lee. The first sends millions of bots, virtual robots to analyze the market and create songs. With Oamos, the second has a goal: to introduce the viewer content likely to please and inspire.

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Friday 5 december 5 05 /12 /Dec 12:52
- By Art and You
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Repetition: reiteration, retelling, come back of the same idea, action to do what you already did.

Repetition officially exists on Fine Arts as a reproduction of an original work by the author himself or under his directive. Repetition is not copy, homage, quotation, critical or not. Repetition is artist’s gesture that re-does, re-produces a process already set up. More precise than the simple style exercise or the recognizable touch of an artist, repetition denotes an iron will to impose a rhythm to one’s work, to analyze one’s creation on long term. To repeat is to integrate the notion of mastered time on one’s pieces. 

Repetition: reiteration, retelling, come back of the same idea, action to do what you already did.

This notion of temporality reminds its sense on the musical field. Repetition is an important prerequisite to improve a song or to compose it. But repetition, like in art, is different from the cover or the remix. It’s closer to the loop, the perpetual and hypnotic movement of an often not-melodic come back. Typical of the electro music, this repeated scansion can be found in industrial music  (Throbbing Gristle) or drone (Sunn O))), Earth), until, for this latter, the almost complete disappearance of the markers. The serial music intellectualized, almost against its will, the reflection about the implementation of similar models with, as fermatas, Stockhausen and Boulez. Repetition becomes a pattern, a drawing, a wallpaper (see and listen Quatorze exemples authentiques de triomphe de la musique decorative by Cinema Strange) and leads us back to art. 

Repetition: reiteration, retelling, come back of the same idea, action to do what you already did.

We just saw that repetition is not a matter of style. Djamel Tatah (until December 30 at Kamel Mennour Gallery, Paris) does not repeat himself. His solitary bodies painted on monochrome backgrounds are a family, a lost souls society inextricably linked. It’s sometimes hard to distinguish repetition from series. The Furniture Sculptures by John Armleder, and more precisely his "Zack Wylde" series (abstract painting + juxtaposed guitar) are a reflection on the confrontation of similar elements on the same mode. The series are a game on possible combinations. The limit is passed with the 11 Saint Sebastian tended by Irene by Georges de la Tour. Copies of the Master, of his workshop, lure of money, anonymous forgers ? Hard to know the truth. But this idea of the repetition of the same work influenced another artist like Yves Klein. The anecdote is well known: Klein painted same-sized canvases in blue with a paint roller, hanged up side by side and sold with different prices… The fierce irony of Klein should not mask his conceptual genius. Pushing to an extreme and no coming back point the idea of repetition, he transcended even the gesture of the artist and made sacred the idea… after Duchamp. Now we know that Duchamp always comes with Warhol, it’s time to speak about the silkscreen of the Man Machine (for monotonous lovers of Kraftwerk). A lot of Marilyn, Mao, Dollars…. Few variations that force you to look after details and to become attentive to changes. The (falsely) mechanized treatment of the work induces a simplified vision of repetition. 

Repetition: reiteration, retelling, come back of the same idea, action to do what you already did.

Repetition is definitively relevant when it becomes a palingenesis, an “eternal recurrence” of the same, but on a volunteer way. Not like Bill Murray stock into the Groundhog Day by Harold Ramis. No, it’s the transition ad lib. of inexplicable and cold murders on Alan Clark’s Elephant. It’s more the sequence of identical shots on Gus Van Sant’s Elephant. On this latter, repetition is not exactly the same : the camera angle is always different. It makes a big distinctness. Buren (La Coupure is exhibited now at Picasso Museum, Paris) never does the same thing. The adaptation to the context modifies deeply and definitively every work that seems to repeat itself. The stripes (talking only of these is absolutely reductive) are never the same (well, yes they are, 8.7 cm wide, colored and alternated with a white stripe…). Buren, as his colleagues Mosset, Parmentier and Toroni, had the fascinating idea to work on the place, on the adaptation, on the look and on memory. Yayoi Kusama is another example (recently exhibited at the Grande Halle de la Villette, Paris) with her obsessive dot: repetition of the pattern on a variation of the support. Jim Lambie and his Zobop is a magnificent demonstration too that stripes of colored scotch-tapes on the floor are never exactly the same, never exactly different. 

Repetition: reiteration, retelling, come back of the same idea, action to do what you already did.

As usual, Damien Hirst is the one missing to conclude. The English artist repeats himself and sells again the same pieces on a strange come back. He reminds us how important is the notion of cycle in art, as in life (working a lot on death, does he resuscitate himself?). Scratched record or scratch held by the hand of the artist, repetition is an ambiguous phenomenon, hard to apprehend but that can quickly become a psychoanalytic obsession of the repetition, leading to the psychic dependence. 

Repetition: reiteration, retelling, come back of the same idea, action to do what you already did.

Thank you for not reading this text again.

[Picture : Daniel Buren, peinture issue de "Corridoscope", 1983. Peinture acrylique sur toile, 204 x 280 cm. Courtesy de l'artiste & galerie Jean Brolly]
Saturday 29 november 6 29 /11 /Nov 16:22
- By Benjamin Bianciotto
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(Previously) The suicide is a recurrent topic of contemporary art. Unfortunately, the reverse is true. 

Following the morbid success of Goethe’s The sorrows of young Werther, the archetypal romantic artist considered the suicide as a possible, worthy and ambitious end. The baudelarian ethers attracted the youth trapped between an industrialized and frenzied rationalism and a declining religion. The solution of the deliberate death allowed the artist to remain master of his destiny and to avoid the personal decay and the corruption of a rejected society. The myth of the damned artist continued and let dead bodies everywhere: Vincent Van Gogh (shotgun), Ernst Ludwig Kirchner (Nazi persecution), Arshile Gorky (hanging), Nicolas de Staël (defenestration)… 

What about nowadays? Is the artist still a “suicide by society”? We are not going to do a simple and sinister obituary, or question the motivations that push him to “be blue”. We are more likely to question the possibility to reread this extreme acting out of a central character concerning the interpretation and his mirror position he plays in our society. 

During last months, three artists have proved that the romantic myth of the damned artist is still “alive”. Angus Fairhurst, hanged up to a tree (an odinist gesture?) was one of the Young British Artists, not the most famous, but certainly of one the most relevant. He lets behind him a protean work, humoristic and intensively reflexive. Jeremy Blake (who did the cover of Beck’s Sea change album) killed himself after finding his girlfriend’s dead body, the film director Theresa Ducan, who died by her own hand too. We can hardly imagine more specifically romantic or shakespearian end…. More recently, the disappearance of Edouard Levé left a bad taste. Few days after having given the manuscript of his last book titled Suicide to his editor, he killed himself. His fictional photographs series are full of a totally frightening everyday nature. Of course, it’s tantalizing to reread the pieces of these artists according to their tragic end : Angoisse by Levé, Pietà by Fairhurst, Angel Dust by Blake. These latteacrr point to the fatal aspiration of their authors. An adequacy between the life and the work that reminds Proust vs. Sainte-Beuve. It’s probably dangerous to try to rewrite history, to psychologically analyze the works. Though, as Sartre said, we can think that the artistic act is completely engaging, a trace of the artist is certainly present at the surface of the creation. But it’s a trail, not a self-portrait. 

A comparison to the rock universe can be interesting. The greatest rock stars who killed themselves benefit from a specific aura and a repositioning of their work into music history: Jim Morrison (if we accept overdose as a suicide) and Kurt Cobain are now idolized icons, Ian Curtis and Elliot Smith exit from their confidentiality and underground respect. Death gives to dead bodies the recognition of a free author, extreme, defying god, dissenter. A dangerous vision for the “followers” but that is restricted to fans of rock stars, not artists. Art collectors do not imitate and kill themselves… they rub their hand in glee. 

That’s true, happily or not, like the accident leads the driver to slow down and watch the spectacle, the suicide highlights the dead. It enables to (re)launch a carrier and no one can avoid a post-commercial appropriation of his death. Almost mechanically at the beginning because, the production ending, the pieces available rarefy. The typical case is the young dead Jean-Michel Basquiat, star of the blasted artist sales. The most amazing rediscovery has been Robert Malaval, exhibited pomp and circumstance at the Palais de Tokyo, Paris, in 2005. Actually, this sinister highlighting can benefit to a great and unfairly forgotten artist. That’s the case of Marc Psalidas, a great painter, using an aesthetic of primitive symbolism and who would be worthy of receiving the cold sun of recognition. 

The suicide is an ultimate act that could almost be considered as an artistic gesture, an aesthetic testament. Ray Johnson’ death, a pioneer of English Pop Art, is perceived as an experimental “nothing”. Rothko explored the “colorfield painting” and colors’ limits with his own sacrificial blood. Rudolf Schwarzkogler reached a mythical status thanks to his legendary (and fake) suicide by self-castration, vestige of a performance (Action 3). A grand gesture that marks history. 

It remains the mysterious suicides: Pollock who destroys himself in a car, Ana Mendieta, Carl Andre’s girlfriend, who is glued between murder and deliberate death, art which regularly dies, murdered by itself. No panic, considering this latter, it’s fake: not a hanging, a bungee jump…

[Picture : Jeremy Blake, Sodium Fox, 2005. Sequence from DVD with sound. 14 minute continuous loop. Courtesy Feigen Contemporary & J. Blake]

Monday 24 november 1 24 /11 /Nov 18:36
- By Benjamin Bianciotto
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