Dada Christmas

NOTE: This post is my Christmas card to my fellow members of the Knox Martin Fan Club. Cheers!

My young daughter has installed her own Christmas tree in her room this year. I find it a disturbing trend, a transformation of a family tradition into an individual ritual of Christmastime madness. My feelings, I imagine, are similar to that of Leo X when he learned of that blasted note nailed to the door at Wittenberg. The impudence of our little imp!

Furthermore, she has rigged her individual tree with a Santa trap, which consists of a variety of wires, lights and bells, arranged in such a way so that when Santa carefully places his elf-built presents under said tree, the trap will wake Margaret and allow her to catch Santa in the act! What happens next? I’m not sure she’s thought that far ahead. Perhaps a shared cookie. Some friendly banter. Maybe even a opportunity to search Santa’s bag for a couple of extra presents?

All this begs the question, will Santa actually visit her tree? Is he obligated to visit all trees in a given location? If he does, will we as a family be forced to have two Christmas mornings, one under each tree? Or will the tree schism lead Margaret to have her own individual Christmas morning minus the rest of us? Etc, etc, etc. You see the descent into madness that potential lies ahead for us.

But I digress.

Margaret having her own Christmas tree requires that this tree be decorated with its own lights and ornaments, which she has provided by stealing them from the tree in the living room. We had turned a blind eye to such thievery, Jenny drawing the line at certain choice ornaments which she refused to have pilfered. But then it happened. Our little Borrower, while scurrying back to her lair, dropped one of the shiny Christmas balls, which shattered on our hard tile floor

I shoo-ed the little imp towards barefoot safety, but before sweeping up the sharp little shards of glass, I thought of similarly shattered egg and the cry of “Dada!” that must have rang out during a certain time and place in art history. So I grabbed my camera and recorded the random splendor.

It wasn’t until a few days later, while checking the result on my computer, that I noticed the true force and wonder of Dada. Inside the random shards of Christmas were images of Knox Martin! It seems that the shattering took place adjacent to where our Knox piece is hanging, and the concavity of the inner silvered pieces of glass picked up and reflected the image on to my camera’s sensor. Dada authenticity living within my Dada nostalgia. Unexpected creation with the unexpected creation. A true Dada Christmas miracle!

Mug Shot

In honor of the many recent visits from the Knox Martin Fan Club – of which I am a card-carrying member – I thought I’d come out of my deep, dark hole and present a mug shot .

As you can see, this picture is of a package full of masculinity, entirely appropriate as a follow-up for Knox.

Blank Slate or Empty Cup?

I’ve been thinking a lot about how important emptiness is. I think that the human-as-empty-cup analogy is superior to the human-as-blank-slate idea. The three-dimensionalness of the cup combined with the state of emptiness just seem like better starting points for philosophical musings.

Plus, you know how I feel about the subversive rise of the second dimension. Better to keep the 2D out of this.

Here’s another great analogy. Shoes. Their value is in their emptiness. They are basically big containers for our feet!

Also, a blank space is basically that – blank. A three dimensional object has an inherent variability built into the analogy and there better represents an individual’s inherent variability together with the input of the non-individual (spirit, culture, whatever) to fill it. A better dualistic “nurture AND nature” model.

Which by extension validates my package series, which is just what I need, speaking of validation, a video entitled “Validation” that someone posted on my Facebook wall today. I didn’t watch it all, didn’t feel it was valid.

The Empty Cup

A great martial arts teacher was visited by a young, well-known and respected university professor.

“I have come a long way to see you,” he said. “I have heard that you are a great Karate Master, the Art of Empty Self. I have so many questions for you. I, myself, have studied very hard for many years to understand the essence of what you teach. Can you tell me the meaning of Karate? Of Empty Self? How it can bring peace to the world? What is the secret of this teaching?”

The Martial Arts Master was serving the professor tea as the professor rambled on with question after question. The Master poured the visitor’s cup to the brim with tea… and then, kept on pouring. Now, the tea was running off the table onto the floor.

The professor watched bewildered until he could no longer restrain himself. Finally, he shouted, “Can’t you see the cup is full! No more will go in!”

“Like this cup,” the Master smiled, “your mind is full of questions and seeking answers! Until you empty your cup, no more can go in. Likewise, until you present me with an empty mind, you cannot learn or receive anything.”

The Sex of Packages

The headline could have more properly read “gender” instead of “sex,” but I wanted to put sex in the headline to maximize the marketing potential.

Potential being the key word.

A package is full of potential. It is the holder of the mysterious something. The container of our desires or riches, as with the gifts of the Magi or the plenty provided by the cornucopia. Alternately, a package can contain our doom, as with Persephonie or the Trojan Horse.

But what is the gender of a package? This question has been on my mind quite a bit lately.

I’m going to say female right now, and then try to circumambulate the idea over the next few days

Sow why is a package feminine? Because a woman has a womb, the container of life. A pregnant woman is a human package. And inside her? A gift, our desire, and our doom.

Empty

Have I finally emptied myself?

It’s been a week since I last wrote here. That’s my longest break since I began in the Fall. What’s up with that?

I think it’s a bunch of things, a swirling mess of career transition, economic gloom, deteriorating family health, painting, the prepress swamp, and of course the South Florida Season getting into full swing, all circumambulating a growing void of self-doubt that’s gnawing away at my joy of creating and communicating.

I guess that explains it.

Thank God for Husserl! Yes, of course his brand of phenomenology has been a cornerstone for me ever since “Experience and Judgement.” And I’ve long suspected that Jung was student of Husserl, but that’s for another post. And not what I mean here.

I’m talking rather about Husserl’s nagging self-doubt. This man was a genius. His clarity in the depths of psychological explorations blew away the mystification of Hegel and the psychosis of Nietzsche. Yet, this giant was constantly unsure of himself and his work.

I’m no Husserl, but I find great comfort in his uncertainty. If a lion can be filled with self-doubt, then it must certainly be OK for an ant to feel the same way, too.

Paracelsus and the Grail

I finally finished re-reading The Grail Legend, and now better understand its place within the Jungian world view. In particular, the remarkable conflict between the natural and the spiritual within the individual and collective consciousness, and how that dynamic can be understood by analyzing the writings of the times.

The dawn of the second millenium was a time of rising dominance of the Christian mindset among the peoples of northwestern Europe. The spirits that animated the natural environment were being pushed back into the unconscious to make way for the Spirit that came from above. That Spirit, together with God the father and that most powerful symbol of the Self, Jesus Christ, left no room in consciousness for nature spirits. The Church had moved in, a kind of spiritual Walmart that suffered no competition from the local mythologies, to supply all the spiritual needs.

But those nature spirits did not simply go away — they are a fundamental component of the human psyche. So back they went, not into the forests, but into the unconscious.

For Jungians, the Grail legends are a way to analyze the collective unconscious of the times. The myth becomes the dream of the age, which can be studied and understood as any dream. Merlin is the key symbol for the nature spirit; he is a bridge as it were for the coming of this new spirituality. It is he who establishes Arthur and the round table and the quest for the Grail, thus setting the stage for a new social order that would bring Europe out of the dark ages. And when his task is done and Percival takes his place as the new Grail king, back Merlin goes, back into the forest.

In the last few pages of The Grail Legend, von Franz quotes early from Jung’s Alchemical Studies about the role of the 15th century alchemist Paracelsus as a symbol for the return of the nature spirits. It has to do with the fundamentally different place of humans in relationship to the Spirit. With Christianity, humans were subject to the will of God and bound to serve this outside Spirit that could come down from heaven and influence humans. With the rise of alchemy, we saw the return of the idea that there is a divine spirit within Nature, and that it was up to humans, especially alchemists, to unlock the spirit from matter. This is the key transformational idea that ultimately defines to the age of reason: that humans were the central force in understanding the world. Alchemy, as a proto-science, unlocks the door to the daemons that early Christianity had banished.

Hirschvogel Paracelsus

So back from the unconscious came the influence of the animal spirit, only this time its not out on the surface for everyone to see. Rather, it stays unconscious to a very large degree. Despite Paracelsus convoluted (proto-post-modernist)?) ramblings about the alchemical secret of freeing the spirit from matter, consciously he is still a practicing Christian. Alchemy is framed as this huge secret that only the “worthy” can truly understand. High spirituality with dark materialism: It’s a paradox of opposites that soon became a critical force in the evolution of society.

In many ways, the influence of the animal spirit and the belief in its power became more like a spiritual possession by the material world, a condition that fundamentally defines our current psyches. The alchemical process provided a formal, systematic approach to unlocking the secrets of nature. Its successes and failures, particularly in medicine, created a framework for experimentation that any “reasonable” man could follow and expand upon.

Today, we live in an age of human-centered dominance of the natural world. But have we really dominated the material world? Or have iron and fire been liberated to dominate us?

I would argue that we have become possessed by the things that we have created. We have surrendered up our lives in the pursuit of making things and acquiring thing. The secrets of nature are revealed, and then come back to bite us in the ass.

We make packages. We buy packages. We discard packages. All for the things inside the packages. Yet in many ways our lives are still empty. Just like the packages when we’re done with them.

Enviropak Rules

Another box of samples arrived last week, again courtesy of Enviropak. Thank you! You guys make the best molded pulp products.

I am very grateful for your continued support on this project.

Some weeks ago I created an American flag piece and sent it to them as a thank you for their first box of samples (Molded Glory, seen below). It turns out that the piece was created on a brand new Enviropak product called Enviroguard, which is basically a sheet of pulp with multiple small half-domes molded into the sheet. Kind of like semi-rigid bubble wrap. At first I thought that it was another purpose-built piece of protective packaging – I guessed that it was designed to hold small widgets of some kind. But no! It’s a stand alone multi-purpose sheet designed to protect anything. Brilliant! Click on their website’s “newsletter” link to learn more.

I wonder if it could be used as the protective layer inside the helmet I proposed in the previous post…

Regardless, the new box of samples held a lot of great items, including a small roll of Enviroguard. I’ve been painting and shooting furiously. Should be finished up shortly as the pre-press work is really piling up now.

That’s it – just wanted to give a shout-out to Bill Noble and team. Thanks, Enviropak!

Helmet

I recently spoke by phone to Randy at the Bicycle Helmet Safety Institute. The reason? I wanted to know if molded pulp had potential as disposable head safety gear.

If you think about it, one of molded pulp’s key benefits is impact protection. Practically all of the pieces I’ve been working with have been highly engineered to protect contents from impact. And not just any contents – each molded piece has been specifically designed to fit and protect a specific piece of equipment.

So why not design molded pulp as protection for a human head?

Here are some of the potential obstacles that molded pulp must overcome, as detailed by Randy:

• Appearance. Consumers do not want bulky headgear. Anything beyond 1.5 inches gives people a “mushroom head” appearance. Best case for appearance is 1 inch thickness; at 2 inches and beyond, people will not wear the mushroom.

• Weather resistance. A bicycle helmet must be able to get wet and still protect. I believe that he said that a 24 hour immersion test was the standard that must be met.

• Quality control. The helmet must be produced to a very exact standard, not just for one piece, but for many many pieces in a huge factory run.

• G-force abatement. The helmet must meet specific g-force abatement tests, which drop helmets (with a headform inside) from a height of up to 2 meters onto an anvil.

• The strap. The strap must stay attached to the helmet under impact conditions.

• Low friction. The outer surface of the helmet bust be very smooth to minimize friction between the helmet and the road/curb/whatever. Randy said that a bowling ball had the ideal surface for a helmet.

Wow, that’s a long list of design specifications to be met, and there are still others. Yet I still feel that molded pulp has potential here to meet a need for a disposable, single-use helmet.

The helmet design I envision has two pieces: 1) a smooth, reusable outer plastic piece to provide weather resistance, strap attachment and low friction on an impact surface, and ; 2) an inner molded pulp liner to provide the g-force reduction.

It is an interesting design challenge. I wonder if a molded pulp manufacturer would be interested in taking up the challenge? I’m sure that the BHSI would be eager to lend a hand, and so would I.

The Noble Gesture

I received this photo last night. It’s a mightily awesome photo. It shows the artist Knox Martin high atop a cherry picker and painting a new signature on his mural, Venus.

Web cam capture of Knox Martin at work, circa early 2008.

Many Manhattan commuters know Venus well. She has existed at the intersection of 19th Street and the West Side Highway since 1970 as a gigantic anti-billboard. Painted on the south side of Bayview Women’s Correctional Facility, it is a gift to the public of pure art . Here’s some background from ChelseaNow:

By 1970, Martin was teaching at Yale University, his work exhibited at the Whitney and the Guggenheim. Invited by the City Walls Project to contribute a mural, he found a site while driving into the city from the west side — practically “ran right into” the narrow, 80-foot-tall prison. He visited the facility, he said, and heard women shouting from behind bars.

“I thought, Why not have it be about the energy of these women?” Martin recalled.

In the years since 1971 — when the unveiling of “Venus” was heralded by TV coverage that included “Geraldo Rivera hanging from a rig” and a half-page in the New York Times’ Arts and Leisure section — the mural has been reproduced on postcards and copied in countless art classes. But its neighborhood began to bloom, Martin said, in ways less about art than commerce.

In the ’70s, artists like Martin’s Yale art students were peeling off to the meatpacking district and Soho, he said, taking over abandoned warehouses “for cheap.” Most of Chelsea was growing increasingly expensive through the 1970s and 1980s, until by 1984 the average studio rented for more than $900. By 2000, that same studio was $1,700, and the terra nova was then West Chelsea, where artists took over stables and decaying brownstones. But soon enough, shops began to join galleries there, too — and to replace some of the artists who had started it all.

“Galleries, restaurants and boutiques,” grumbled Martin, gesturing. “That’s how a neighborhood dies.

So why is Knox re-signing this work?

Note the construction taking place below and to the right of Venus. That’s the beginning of a huge new architectural vundermess called 100 Eleventh Avenue. As of this writing, the concrete structure is completed and is now in the stage of getting glassed. Besides dwarfing the jail, it almost totally obscures the view of Venus. She’s still there, just hidden behind this new building. The only part of the work that is still easily visible from the highway is its outer edge. So when you drive by now, what you see is a faint edge of color, and a gigantic KNOX.

It’s as if the work has been stored away in a gigantic skyscraper filing cabinet, with only the edge of the file folder clearly marked for easy reference. Thirty years from now, when 100 Eleventh Avenue has to be demolished because of structural defects, Venus will be patiently brought out to be admired and enjoyed again.

There is much to be admired of this gesture. Physically speaking, it’s a remarkable feat. Have a look at the extension of that cherry picker – that thing is way up there, swaying in the wind, its bucket full of artist and paint, and creative spirit. But no problem for Knox. Not only is he unafraid of the physical danger, he his likewise unafraid of taking the decisive action to correct his artwork in the face of a changing environment. That is an attribute of a true Master. Unafraid to act when action is necessary. The need arises, the Master does.

Symbolically speaking, the gesture likewise speaks volumes. Here is an Artist who has not just witnessed, but participated in the major art movements of the 20th Century. And he is not finished! He continues to work, to teach, and to mentor those who can see. He is not about to simply allow this work to vanish, his name to vanish. His act is one of defiance. I am here. The Art is here! You can hide it behind a trendy facade of an already out-of-fashion building, but you cannot destroy the spirit of the work, or of the artist.

Take a last look at the photo, That cherry picker, fully extended into the sky — it’s as if Knox is giving us all the finger. It’s a great big “fuck you” to anyone who tries to stifle his Art. There is Knox, atop his fully erect platform, gleefully spewing white paint across Venus, declaring to all who can see, “This is my Art.”