An Other Interior: Spatial Objects
Rupert Deese, artist and former fabricator for Donald Judd,
discusses building and living with the furniture of
Judd, Gerrit Rietveld, Josef Albers, and Gerald Summers.
unfortunately, it’s not on the tubes.
gianni pettena’s third and final act out west in utah about non-conscious architecture would be a documentation of elementary structures – mountains made by nature or simple industrial structures built purely based on engineering principles. in essence, pettena catalogued “works of architecture not made by architects”. pettena was interested in utilitarian structures, constructed “because that was the most practical and convenient solution, and for no other reason”. the results, a challenge to traditional european values of architecture, were shown as a movie during the 1973 milan triennale.
pettena’s non–conscious architecture embodies the same rebellious and playful spirit ofduchamp’s early readymades, like the shovel and wine rack. he brings value and significance to these otherwise unnoticed pieces of architecture – manmade or naturemade. and, like the readymades they are decidedly utilitarian in character, devoid of social moorings. several other artists in italy were exploring this same anti-consumerism in the early 70’s. while writing aboutsuperstudio’s histograms, adolfo natalini said, “by the destruction of objects, we mean the destruction of their attributes of ‘status’ and the connotations imposed by power so that we live with objects… and not for objects”.
about non-conscious architecture finished as a wandering exhibition. the movie frames were printed, organized and bound as a catalogue of new architectural typologies called already seen portable landscapes. this set of photos, reminiscent of bernd and hilla becher’s own typological studies, were placed in a suitcase and carried around “as baggage that served as a reminder, above all for the person who had had that experience, of the story of a particular moment of readiness to look at physical space in an unconventional way”.
enjoy the weekend.
posted by nicolas allinder
event like brushing my teeth each morning is chosen and then set into a conventional
art context, as Duchamp and many others since him have done. That strategy, by
which an art-identifying frame (such as a gallery or theater) confers “art value” or “art
discourse” on some nonart object, idea, or event, was, in Duchamp’s initial move,
sharply ironic. It forced into confrontation a whole bundle of sacred assumptions about
creativity, professional skill, individuality, spirituality, modernism, and the presumed
value and function of high art itself. But later it became trivialized, as more and more
nonart was put on exhibit by other artists. Regardless of the merits of each case, the
same truism was headlined every time we saw a stack of industrial products in a gallery, every time daily life was enacted on a stage: that anything can be estheticized, given the right art packages to put it into. But why should we want to estheticize “anything”? All the irony was lost in those presentations, the provocative questions forgotten. To go on making this kind of move in art seemed to me unproductive.
would be alone in my bathroom, without art spectators. There would be no gallery, no
critic to judge, no publicity. This was the crucial shift that removed the performance of
everyday life from all but the memory of art. I could, of course, have said to myself,
“Now I’m making art!!” But in actual practice, I didn’t think much about it.
much this act of brushing my teeth had become routinized, nonconscious behavior,
compared with my first efforts to do it as a child. I began to suspect that 99 percent of
my daily life was just as routinized and unnoticed; that my mind was always somewhere else; and that the thousand signals my body was sending me each minute were ignored. I guessed also that most people were like me in this respect.
their slight bleeding (should I visit the dentist?). I looked up once and saw, really saw,
my face in the mirror. I rarely looked at myself when I got up, perhaps because I
wanted to avoid the puffy face I’d see, at least until it could be washed and smoothed to match the public image I prefer. (And how many times had I seen others do the same and believed i was different!)
zen for film (1962-64) – nam june paik
a film with no script, no narrative, no sets, no actors, no sound, no camera, no montage – but with screen and projector, and most certainly on film.
i’ve been sort of obsessed with thinking about this.
posted by matt olson