| Unbecoming is both
a challenge and an incomplete show, but is flawed only because it
doesn't accomplish what it sets out to achieve. The whole affair
has rather an air of embarrassment at being clever and though curator
Melissa Caldwell deserves credit for putting this ambitious project
together, she should have stuck to her guns more. Perhaps in starting
with the daunting prospect of dealing with spectacle via Guy Debord,
it tackles too much. The blurring of the individual and the dissolution
of the "private" are great individual topics but the work
is not solely illustrating these ideas. Oddly enough, the fact that
the curator's intentions and the end results diverge so becomes
the show's saving grace.
Taken at face
value, the show works well enough without the attempt to justify
it. What may have worked better would have been a simple use of
each piece as an illustration of some aspect of theory's presence
within practice, a sort of theory 101. Surely, the work of Sarah
Lucas is ripe enough for that. Crombie's video installation on
its own embodies enough feminist & film theory to prompt multiple
investigations, so why attempt a focus on this single theme? The
spectacle, itself, defies this approach. The subject of private/public
space is connected to so many other attributes that pervade our
culture that it becomes invisible. To generalize is only effective
when pooling numerous sites and myriad primary texts. One can't
really breeze through Debord, and certainly not without checking
in with Karl Marx first. "The spectacle," as Debord
suggests "corresponds to the historical moment at which the
commodity completes its colonization of social life." Art
is fine, but these statements raise issues that need serious popularizing
outside art and academic circles.
It is also a presumption to conclude that artists
might work to somehow undermine the spectacle. This is a rather
preposterous and a dangerous assumption, as if artists are what's
left of the moldering counter culture. Are we complicit ala the
flaneur of Baudelaire, or are we impassioned revolutionaries,
full of resistance and out to change things. Artists are given
far too much credit. Even with this understanding behind them,
they remain like everyone else, captives. Art is mere commentary
and makes no dent in the spectacle.
Kara Crombie's video is the most accessible
and successful piece in the show. Full of archetypes and gender
stereotypes, this excellent albeit derivative video features women
(the artist) taking part in and creating their own spectacle for
our prying eyes. Her use of a low tech soundtrack of seventies
tunes like the Who, (live at Leeds?) was mildly disconcerting
perhaps with the passing of John Entwistle still fresh. Some comic
relief in the show was welcome. In one segment, Crombie's head
is interspliced about to kiss Prince (the artist known as). This
reference to a thousand screen kisses was witty stuff.
Elizabeth Campbell's photographs of the two
identical rooms is connected to theoretical concerns about the
Real, and opened yet another can of worms. Although depicting
private rooms, this was a virtual illustration of the principles
to do with photography and truth, and seemed to diverge from the
private/public idea. The photos by Sara Lucas were in a Cindy
Sherman vein. Does Lucas have an uncanny resemblance to Jarvis
Cocker of the band Pulp in some of these works? The video installation
piece by Connie Walsh was standard fare and overstated. Joseph
Maida's photo series was the only work that seemed to connect
directly with the "unbecoming" theme and they did it
with a weird elegance and sexual ambiguity.
Back to Debord. This exposure couldn't hurt
the art-going public. By all means, tailor it more for the actual
visitors, but please let's not make excuses for their lack of
awareness. I noticed several reviews picked up on this air of
embarrassment as if to concur with the built-in appeasement offered
by the Art Alliance. Why not simply say, "this is over your
head dude"?
-James Rosenthal, September 2002
© 2002 James Rosenthal and InLiquid.com
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