t yp i n g in a sm a ll ro o m

I’ve been thinking some about Collective Action of late.  They were (are?) an art group active in Moscow in the 1970s & 80s. I first ran into their work a couple years ago at the Stedelijk. Fascinating stuff, even though I understood little of their documentation. Andrei Monastyrsky, one of the main figures, comes from a background in minimalistic poetry and music and was influenced by John Cage and Joseph Beuys (not bad, that).

The notes I’ve been able to find (not a lot out there it seems, at least not on the web) say they came together in 1976. One show’s curator, Joseph Backstein, writes “…the peculiarity of (the) Soviet performance lies in its attempt to demonstrate the … evolution of various stereotypes of human behavior against the background of official ideology. This ideology aimed at monopolizing the very right to interpret all manifestations of the Real including its reflections in art. Collective Actions insists on multiple interpretations.”

It seems that most of the performances took place outdoors, in the countryside around Moscow. Groups of people would be invited to view the performances, none having a full view of the proceedings. Then various documents were compiled at the site, and later upon reflection. These were then set alongside the description by the artists of the specifics of the event. A collection of the ‘real’ for each participant, along with photos and video, became the documentation .

I was really drawn to the videos in Amsterdam. One in particular of a sort-of suitcase, with holes in the sides, thrown down a snowy slope. There was audio coming from the suitcase as it was pulled back up the hill, through the scrub, by a length of rope. Hard to describe the attraction but it was mesmerizing.

_____________________________________________________________________

Was interested in the article in the Times about Richard Prince’s show at the Guggenheim (If the Copy Is an Artwork, Then What’s the Original?). Large photographs of existing photographs. The article quotes Jim Krantz, one of the photographers whose work is reproduced without attribution (on the show’s posters in fact):

“At this point it’s been done, and it’s out there,” he said. “My whole issue with this, truly, is attribution and recognition. It’s an unusual thing to see an artist who doesn’t create his own work, and I don’t understand the frenzy around it.”

He added: “If I italicized ‘Moby-Dick,’ then would it be my book? I don’t know. But I don’t think so.”

This is a copy of the poster of the photograph of the original photograph:

There are some interesting pieces to all of this. But I have to say that my favorite part here is the last line quoted above. I immediately wanted to do it. It seems somehow appropriate in this context to lift the idea from Mr. Krantz.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me…

[I also made note of this over at fluxlist]