Bingo is not just a game of luck.

The other day I attended a lecture by Molly Nesbit about Bingo, Gordon Matta-Clark's project at Artpark in 1974. I'm a big fan of Gordon Matta-Clark, and I learned some things about his work that I didn't know before, but that's not what I want to write about...

At the lecture I was sitting next to Matthew Barney and Rirkrit Tiravanija. It's not unusual to see well-known artists (or critics, curators, etc.) at an event held at an art institution in New York City. Just last month I saw Lawrence Weiner at his own exhibition. In both situations, I kept to myself, thinking it would be intrusive to approach them. But recently, I've been thinking that perhaps I am missing some opportunities by not talking to these people when situations like these arise. I feel a bit uncomfortable approaching people I don't know at these sort of events, but if I just work hard in my studio and don't make an effort to connect with people (famous or not), well, that just seems like a bad strategy.

I do think that an opening or a lecture reception is an appropriate place to initiate conversation. If people didn't want to talk, they wouldn't stick around, right? But how to start a conversation? It always seems like the artist or speaker is already talking to someone. If you do get a chance, I guess the smart move is to open with a thought or question about the exhibition or lecture, rather than blabbering about your own work. But is this how people "network?" The whole thing feels unnatural to me, but I know that I need to get over that.

If anyone is reading this blog, I'd appreciate feedback on the subject.

image: Gordon Matta-Clark's Bingo pieces installed at Artpark, 1974

AS FAR AS THE MIND CAN SEE

Yesterday I saw the Lawrence Weiner retrospective, AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE, at the Whitney. Afterwards, my mind was racing with images, questions, and ideas.

According to Weiner, it is equally valid whether he or someone else fabricates his work or no one builds it at all. Most of his work is not built and exists only as text. A work's media are often listed as "text and the materials referred to." Whether you see the actual materials or the text, the important thing as a viewer is completing the material relationship in one's mind.

This got me thinking that perhaps the work is not even dependent upon being written out in language. Weiner's work could also be passed on orally. Imagine this: If I were to tell a friend the title of one of Weiner's pieces that he had not yet seen, he would have received all of the necessary information to complete the piece in his mind...basically he would have "seen" the piece the moment I told him about it.

However, Weiner often manipulates the text, using special fonts, colors, word positioning, and punctuation marks. But there is no reason the work couldn't communicate the artist's intent if it was spoken or existed typed out as a simple sentence in a generic font. I'm not totally sure if he aestheticizes the text because as an artist he cannot just let it be, or if he chooses to format it the way he does in order to further support the content embedded in the language. I'm leaning towards the latter.

The other thing that I can't figure out: Some of the pieces were listed as being part of someone's private collection. What exactly do these people own? If the work only exists once completed in the viewer's mind, then the object or text is just the stimulus for the mental image. By seeing (or hearing about) the work, you already "own" it.

He was walking around the gallery while I was there. I should have just asked him.