Tuesday, April 28, 2009

ALICE TULLY HALL






On April 16th, our thesis proseminar professor, Ben Gilmartin, took us on a tour of the newly-renovated Alice Tully Hall in Lincoln Center here in NYC. Ben is an architect for Diller Scofidio + Renfro and was the leading architect for the redesign of this building.

When we got there, the most obvious thing about the building was its use of glass along the façade, and a giant cantilevered corner of the building which tapered upward spanning over the sidewalk to meet its edge. The original façade had the entrance on the second story, separated from the street by a flight of stairs but this new design is very much about engaging the public and welcoming it into the building especially at the street level. Under the cantilevered corner, the glass façade is set back to widen the sidewalk, creating a sort of public space. The design also treats the ground plane in its intention of public engagement. There is a small stepped grade change which not only happens on the sidewalk, but continues through the glass façade and subtly differentiates the café area from the rest of the font lobby/atrium space. In a way, this grade change allows the public outside to feel as though they’ve entered the building without having stepped foot inside.

As we walked though the main atrium space, we got a good sense of the strong relationship it had with the street. As one sits in the café, the high ceiling and huge glass curtain wall provides views of the city from three sides.

Beyond the main atrium space, there is a glass partition wall with a set of double-doors leading into the auditorium pre-function space. This is a much quieter area where the ceiling drops down to about 12’. It is still visually open to the street through its glass walls but is certainly not as public as the lobby.

In this pre-function space there was an interesting wall which looked perfectly flat from one side but as you moved around it, found that the individual wood strips swerved out at their center opening up not unlike gills. As we would fully understand later, this is perfectly consistent with the ideas of soft transitions imbued in the building’s redesign.

Before entering the auditorium, we went through a what Ben called a “palate-cleansing space”—a small threshold with dim lighting, soft grey wall panels, and muffled acoustics meant to transition you from the public day-lit pre-function area to the more intimate warm-toned enclosed space of the auditorium.

The entire auditorium is composed of a series of wooden panels which are meant to read as a single skin stretched across the wall surfaces of the auditorium. The sweeping curves along this surface create calculated slits and apertures which form the necessary openings for balconies, acoustic panels, and cavities for lighting equipment. Some of the wood panels are translucent and glow a soft reddish hue when the lights behind them are turned on. These particular panels necessitated some engineering because, the panels had to be thin enough to allow light to go through but strong enough to stand the strain of double curves and the expansion/compression from the lighting heat. Ben attempted to demonstrate the final product in its full glory (he tried to get someone to turn the panel lights on for us) but, alas, we were told it was not going to be possible! Ben finished by explaining a number of things about the design process. The complex geometries and tight surface paneling meant that openings for lights, electrical outlets, etc. had to be exact so all the components (from the electrical to the HVAC) were modeled together using some of Frank Gehry’s software to achieve the necessary level of precision.

Friday, April 17, 2009

$ITE $EEING: EXHIBITION$



Today in Douglas Ross's class, we paid a visit to Talwar Gallery on E 18th Street to view Excerpts from Diary Pages, which housed works by seven Indian artists spanning three generations.

Our next stop was the Federal Reserve Bank in Lower Manhattan. We looked at its exhibition of coins. An exhibition, extracted from the white cube, gallery space changes how viewers approach and view the pieces, or "artifacts", which I would consider the coins at the Federal Reserve. The Federal Reserve collection was a repository of information centralized on American currency, its history, and the pride associated with it.

The third point of interest was the Museum of American Finance that had incorporated some of the current news regarding the financial/economic climate in its exhibition space. The history of the New York Stock Exchange, American banking, and entrepreneurship, as well as the current understanding of the present economy left us with more information about the American economic system, but rather than dispelling its weaknesses and failures the Museum put them on display.

Lastly, we stopped at 21st st to see Adam McEwen's Switch & Bait exhibition. Nicole Klagsbrun Gallery had rented out this separate space to house McEwen's installation. He hung "fluorescent" lights clad with graphite bulbs in rows across the ceiling to fill the otherwise empty, dilapidated space (images). Another room showcased a single American Express credit card cast in graphite, entitled "Self-portrait as a credit card". After seeing two sites so deeply enshrouded in the idea of the American Dollar and its value or lack thereof, it was hard not to draw conclusions about the exhibition presenting a stark outlook to the American economy. The use of an American Express card makes the connection almost unavoidable. Paired with the material choice of graphite--its cold, heavy quality, gives the installation a dark, foreboding tone. The lights are turned off, or never worked in the first place, or are never to be lit again--the credit card is cold to the touch, not having been used or not usable in our seemingly bleak future. This installation, hidden behind a deceivingly not-abandoned warehouse seemed to point to the idea that this dismal future is still unknown to the masses.

But...it was too sunny and beautiful of a day for a rather depressing exhibition to dampen our moods. We decided that eating burgers and drinking lemonade at a local burger joint was not a bad idea. So a couple of us went and had a nice snack. Mmm.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Guest Speaker: Paul Ramirez Jonas


Today Nina Katchadourian invited Paul Ramirez Jonas to speak to us in class and later show us his exhibition currently on view at Alexander Gray Associates located at 526 West 26th street. During class, he showed us slides of his work from 2005 to now.

His installations, sculptures, and media-based artworks explore issues of national identity and democracy. Mi Casa Su Casa (2005), Taylor Square Park (2005), and Talisman (2008) all center around the notion of public property and ownership, and what it means to live in a democratic society. Issues of trust and ownership come into play in these three works. Jonas asked that viewers/participants trade keys with each other, or trade in their key for a key that unlocks a public space, to evoke the spirit of community and to remind them that public space truly does belong to them. Additionally, he wants to show that every space in the world can be opened or closed and that "keys", literal or symbolic, provide access to or lock these gateways. Jonas went on to discuss his issues with these pieces, because he felt that he "had nothing to show after two years of work". What was left of these works were merely the extra keys he had produced. While he produced a successful interactive piece, in which success is measured by people actually participating, engaging in the work, he asks, "how many viewers are enough?" His work relies on a one-time participation and is therefore not physically ongoing, as exhibitions in galleries or museums have the privilege of maintaining.

Wh_r_ Hav_ All The Flow_rs Gon_ (2006), Is this land made for you and me (2007), Mood of the Nation (2007) and Tinterillo, Yo creo como hablo (2008) also ask for the audience's participation, but this interaction stems from Jonas's interest in the difference between ritual and performance. Ritual presupposes that if done right, something will happen, while performance is something that is acted out and therefore reinterpreted by the actor and audience everytime it is done. The above works ask the viewers to participate in the work itself to essentially complete the piece, by either filling in a missing note in Wh_r_ Hav_ All The Flow_rs Gon_, tell a story for Tinterillo, Yo creo como hablo, or "create as [they] speak" in Is this land made for you and me and Mood of the Nation. Jonas talked about how he uses tools that he himself does not create, such as keys, typewriters, or a piano, but makes a piece that utilizes them to send his message. In doing so, he imbues those artifacts with symbolic meaning, or enhances the meaning inherent in them.

We Make Change (2008), 5 Props for a Speakers Corner (2008) are examples of how Jonas does this. He used a penny flattening machine in We Make Change to flatten out the entire penny, except for the words "trust" and "we". When flattened, the coin either reads as "we trust" or "trust me" depending on how the coin is rotated. This simple gesture offered a plethora of meaning, with the smallest unit of American currency asking for its owner's trust and faith in its value and in a larger scope, democracy itself. Jonas constructed five different mobile podiums for 5 Props for a Speakers Corner. A group of speakers were to give speeches at a Creative Time Event, and Jonas decided to moderate how they would possibly deliver their speeches depending on their podium. One was appropriate for a priest or speaker in a church, another was designed for a dictator, one for a celebrity, one for a beauty pageant contestant or announcer, and the last for a public announcer. The range from the modest to the monumental asks the speaker to choose a podium and in essence, choose a persona.

We went to Alexander Gray Gallery afterwards to see Paper Moon (I Create as I Speak) (2008)
Magellan’s Itinerary, A Reproduction (1995) and Broadside 3 (2007).

Please visit http://automat.com/index.php, his website
and http://alexandergray.com/index.cfm to view some of Paul's work!

Monday, April 13, 2009

42nd Street from Port Authority to the United Nations






This morning Chris Otto's class walked the 42nd street axis from west to east. We stopped at the McGraw Hill building by Port Authority, 11 Times Square, the New York Times building, Knickerocker Hotel, Conde Nast, the Bank of America Tower, Bryant Park, the Grace Building, the New York Public Library, Grand Central Terminal, Bowery Savings Bank, Commodore Hotel, Chanin, the Chrysler Building, Ford Foundation, Daily News building, Tudor City, and the United Nations building. Phew!

Our discussion focused on the different materials architects decided to use for the interior and exterior surfaces, lighting fixtures, ceilings, and clocks for different buildings. Several buildings such as the McGraw Hill Building, Chanin, and the Chrysler Building exemplified the art deco style, which is characterized by streamlined or curved edges and abstracted, representational elements instead of classic, decorative elements. Raymond Hood's McGraw Hill interior and lobb reflected the speed and dynamism associated with the art deco style of the 1930s. Its modern appearance displays how a modern building's purpose was to make a statement through its slick, undecorated surface, achievement of balance rather than symmetry, and strong horizontals. The Chrysler Building, built during the "City Beautiful" movement at the turn of the century, similarly boasts the art of architecture in its floors, elevators, lighting, and ceiling. However, the Chrysler Building departs from the McGraw Hill building because it was made as a monument for a person. The Chanin Building on the other hand celebrated personal achievement.

We compared the art deco style apparent in the lobbies of buildings constructed in the 1930s to contemporary building lobbies such as the ones housed in the New York Times and Conde Nast buildings. The Conde Nast lobby emphasized privacy, as the entrance led straight to security. Apart from the newer building materials used, this was a strong disparity from buildings in the 1930s, which celebrated the art of architecture in a more open, inviting setting. The New York Times building kept in the same vein as the 1930s skyscrapers by putting the technology of its construction on display. Ceramic rods that serve as a curtain over the entire building exterior cut down on glare and heat but are also the main feature of the building. Inside the building boasts a garden. Visitors do not reach security or are as aware of it until they are deeper into the building, which makes the New York Times building seem more accessible than the Conde Nast building.

Passing through Times Square, Chris talked about its history. From the 1900s to the 1970s, Times Square was a stomping ground for shady and unlawful characters. Its post 70s rejuvenation, spurred by Disney's proposition to revamp the area as long as the vagrants, pimps, prostitutes, and other illicit individuals were cleared off the streets, was inspired by the Las Vegas of the 1960s. The glittering signs, larger than life displays, and family oriented atmosphere that we recognize today all originated nearly 40 years ago.

We stopped in Bryant Park, where we looked at the Bank of America Tower, a Platinum Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) building. To achieve its Platinum LEED status, it has several environmentally-friendly building features: a slag concrete frame consisting of 45% slag reduces the amount of concrete produced; recycled and recyclable material such as glass prevents heat going inside/outside during summer/winter; giant filter for air facilitates clean air going out of the building; an ice generator operates when the power is less expensive at night, so the ice that is produced cools the building down during summer months; and a power generating plant is located inside the tower so it is a self sustained building.

New York City's diversity is not only apparent in its population; the many differences in its buildings showcases unique designs and architecture that make the landscape of the city itself look so unique.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Gallery Visits: Chelsea


For Patti Phillips' class, students visited at least three different galleries that she had recommended. I went to Deitch Projects on Wooster Street to see Ryan McGuinness's sculptures and screen printed paintings (first row) and Deitch's other location on Grand Street to see Jon Kessler's Circus installation (last row--Kessler was talking to students on the last day of his installation, as shown in the first picture, and in the second picture with his hands above his head). I also went to see Alfredo Jaar's The Sound of Silence piece at Galerie Lelong and Siah Armajani’s Three Pieces, Three Drawings at Max Protetch Gallery. Our assignment was to discuss how Kessler, Jaar, and Armajani utilized space and architecture differently in their installations:

Jon Kessler's Circus uses space and architecture to address the issues of violence and war by placing the viewer right in the middle of a world of confusion, fear, and violence. Kessler’s Circus leads the viewer into a funhouse of miniature dolls, moving contraptions, and video screens exhaustively spinning and whirring under a “big top”—an army tent that fills the entire gallery space. On the last day of the show, Kessler spoke about his piece and his interest in the “lulling but also assaulting” nature of the installation. The mechanical sounds hum in the background as the frenzied movement from the contraptions visually attacks the viewers. Viewers are also caught on camera along with the tortured dolls, adding a layer of paranoia and discomfort to the piece. Kessler explained that the video surveillance is the main event of his installation, resembling real footage of brutality in recent wars. TV monitors are stacked on metal army bed frames on either end of the gallery. These real-time movies address our current relationship with the war because they expose how we are so distanced from its violence and wreckage. By having “the mechanism being connected with” its visual record, he gives us a glimpse of the war’s treachery that often goes untold or is subdued by the mainstream media.

Alfredo Jaar's The Sound of Silence places an ominous, aluminum structure in the middle of a gallery that was otherwise bare. When viewers first step into the gallery space, they are hit with a flood of light cast by hundreds of white neon lights, stuck vertically on the back of the construction. The structure’s demanding presence and direct orders to wait until summoned set a serious, foreboding tone to the exhibition. Three columns and two rows of 4-by-6 foot high aluminum sheets comprised walls that surrounded the dark room. One bench, a screen that showed projections, and six standing light fixtures adorned the room. Inside, the silent projection slowly flashed the life story of Kevin Carter, a South African photojournalist who took his own life because of his haunted past. Jaar’s emotionally charged piece sheds light on the devastating effect of silence--silence as inaction, and the silence of being unheard.

Siah Armajani’s “Three Pieces, Three Drawings” fills the gallery floor with three sculptures: One Car Garage, Emerson’s Parlor, and Edgar Allen Poe’s Study. Each sculpture plays with scale, as objects oscillate between doll-sized and human-sized objects and spaces. A mix of materials and scale created playful yet dangerous, delicate yet sturdy, public yet private architecture. In Emerson’s Parlor, glass stairs and a scarecrow’s arms extending through holes in the glass enclosure give the illusion of openness, while a large black cube blocks the door. A wooden toy bird and a game of cards were juxtaposed with stairs made out of saw blades in Edgar Allen Poe’s Study. Set on the floor at a slight slant, the pieces fill the space in a rather irregular pattern, making the gallery seem crowded, and the viewer, a bit claustrophobic even while the sculpture’s walls were transparent.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Brooklyn Studio Visit: Elizabeth Huey

Today we visited Elizabeth Huey's studio in Brooklyn during Douglas Ross's class. You can view Huey's work on her website http://www.elizabethhuey.com, or on artnet http://www.artnet.com/artist/423861713/elizabeth-huey.html

She has a style all her own, drawing ideas from an assortment of sources: master paintings, European and American history, mental illness, old dictionaries and old publications, which sets Huey apart from many artists who often seek inspiration from modern era works. She mixes neon colors with darker tones; experiments with different painting effects and techniques; and uses masking tape during the process of creating a painting that finds itself in her final products. And even when she has "finished" a painting for a show or after a collector has bought a painting, she will often go back to rework and often completely change the painting dramatically.

It was really refreshing to talk to a painter because I find that many painters have often moved on to sculpture or digital works. Seeing that Huey has found ways to be innovative with painting and still make intriguing and provocative artwork was great for me because I had been thinking about how, to me, painting can be one of the most limiting art mediums because of the history that is attached to the art form and the limitations of its paint-on-canvas element. It was also helpful to know what her experience is like as a practicing artist and businesswoman because it's a mystery to me how to make a living after graduating from college with a BFA...or with the dream of making art as my primary source of income.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Two Bridges Today!


Chris Otto's class braved the cold, the wind, and the rain to cross the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan Bridge this morning. I've always wanted to do this, so with a guide to boot, I thought it was a great opportunity and experience. Even if my socks were soaked all the way through. After trekking the Brooklyn Bridge, we wandered through Dumbo, an area known as "Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass". With several restaurants and stores dotting the waterfront area, Dumbo seems like it would be a hot spot for locals and visitors alike on sunny days. After a pit stop at Jacques Torres Chocolate stop, we made our way back to Manhattan on the Manhattan Bridge on the northern edge, to see the city from above once again.