Rachel Harrison
Prasine
April 28th – June 17th, 2017
One Stud: I’ll be moderating the discussion. Let’s start with you, Winged Victory.
First: Can we put up some walls first?
Winged Victory: Condensation Cube brought me in the truck, good thing there was still room.
Condensation Cube: We’re not just backing into each other. We actually have to compete for real estate.
Sappho and Patriarch: Location, location, location.
The Three Graces: Art, Sex, and Death: Blame iPhones and shelf life.
Condensation Cube: I have partially filled Plexiglas containers of a simple stereometric form with water and have sealed them. The intrusion of light warms the inside of the boxes. The image of condensation cannot be precisely predicted. I like this freedom.[1]
Box with the Sound of Its Own Making: There may be many precedents within a sculpture, but sculpture has for some time been raiding architecture.[2] Real space is not experienced except in real time.
One Stud: There must still be an art that grows up not knowing it is art at all?[3] Art criticism lost its power over art-making after the '60s, no? We've already put the paint back onto sculpture that Clement Greenberg took off.
The Three Graces: Art, Sex, and Death: You mean how Greenberg stripped all the David Smith sculptures after Smith died?
Alexander the Great: Sometimes I feel the '60s aren’t far away enough. We’re not props.
TV Buddha: The culture that's going to survive in the future is the culture you can carry around in your head.[4]
Sappho and Patriarch: I can defend being passed on as a lure, a decoy, an index, or as a reminder of a former visual self.[5]
Kunst muss hängen (Art Must Hang): A Bourdieuian definition of art could be summarized as follows: something is art if it exists for discourses and practices that recognize and can appropriate it as art.[6]
The Sled: Let’s hope this is not just a vicious dialogic cycle — we are, all of us, exploring a world that none of us even understands and attempting to create within that uncertainty. We're searching for more immediate, ecstatic, and penetrating modes of living.[7]
Kunst muss hängen (Art Must Hang): The first time that I can recall weeping in a museum was the first time I visited the Louvre.[8]
Winged Victory: Yes, I remember, I was there.
Manifesto: A racing car whose hood is adorned with great pipes, like serpents of explosive breath… is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.[9]
Young Man: Why am I smiling? Where am I going? A young man stepping out into an adult world. My braided hair is like a teen-age girl’s, both stylized and natural. My testicles are full of life. You can project yourself into me.[10]
Publyck Sculpture: There is a meta-game for use in the United States. The rules of the game, or even that there is a game at all, are hidden to some. The uninitiated are known as naïve, provincial, suckers or liars. To those unamused by an awareness of backdoor maneuvering, a whole world of deceit remains opaque. Those in the dark are ripe for exploitation.[11]
“Benglis ad”: What’s the point of this discussion, isn’t this all a bit obvious?
Why not sneeze, Rose Sélavy?: Perhaps that’s why we’re here, to ask what’s the point.
Leave the Land Alone: It’s not to tell you what you don’t know but to show you another way of looking at what you do know.[12]
A Subtlety: I do what I am feeling and what I’m feeling is monstrous. And I do it in the nicest possible way.[13]
Judith Beheading Holofernes: Make art history scream.[14]
Dialogue Piece: This is all poetic nonsense.
