New York City is often painted as the opposite of nature, but I'm not so sure. Even if you took this photo out of context, you could determine the season. It's spring, of course. Cold enough for stockings but just getting warm enough that people are itching for their flip flops. Why not fall? Well, by fall most everyone is ready to put on their new shiny shoes. Flip flops are so last summer.
As a native Los Angelena, I still find seasonal living fascinating even after living here for nearly a decade. The attention to the seasons, the way the weather controls life, becomes a topic of regular conversation.
The establishment adjacent to Astor Place isn't a Starbucks, it's a wintertime meeting place.. Few of the people sitting by the window actually have a coffee in hand, but their eyes are forward, waiting for their dinner companion to come around the corner or step out from the subway.
Hard to see in this photo: there's an Alice in Wonderland ad rendered in exquisite detail. Just the thing for a waiting populace.
Been feeling sick on and off this weekend, and based on conversations I've had with friends, I'm apparently not the only one. I guess that's what happened when the weather swings from 70 and sunny to 45 and rainy in a single week.
What I like about New York is that it presents a way of living so different from most of America (and even much of the Northeast)--pedestrian-oriented, compact, but still demanding of the very best. This creates a need for unique products, like the Whole Foods-branded grocery totes. These totes are, ahem, almost totally useless in the 'burbs, where cloth bags and grocery carts still reign supreme.
How do we design with the needs of the user in mind? I think back to this brilliant coop bicycle, a multi functional bicycle designed for small entrepreneurs in cycling-oriented cultures. This bicycle would probably fail even in New York, but it appears to be a hit in Kenya.
Gets me thinking about this terrific article by Elizabeth Kelsey from Dartmouth Engineer, "Engineering by Design", which discusses the importance of human-centered design:
"Not all design is created equal, however. In addition to the aesthetic side of design, Robbie distinguishes between technology-driven design and human-centered design. “Technology-driven design often results in products looking for a need. Human-centered design always keeps the needs of end users in mind,” he says. “Design for humans needs to begin with developing understanding and empathy for human experience. It applies science and technology but also includes insights from the humanities and the social sciences. Engineers often love to jump right into making things, but early in the design process it’s often preferable to focus on deeply understanding the needs of end users."
One of the most popular art feeds on Twitter right now doesn’t have a name or a face or a gender. It doesn’t represent an established arts institution or magazine, nor does it have any kind of credentials. And yet, less than a year since it started, it now boasts 10,000 followers (as of yesterday), a feat helped along by making Twitter’s staff picks.
I've been enjoying writing for Hyperallergic, New York's latest and greatest blogazine. I'm glad I've been finding good online fora to explore my various interests and refine my practice as an arts writer.
Spotted at the cash register for a coffee shop frequented by NYU kids - the very generation likely to have never known a world without cell phones. Imagine a stream of them entering your shop, all on their phones, halflistening to their conversation partner, half-listening to you.
Etiquette evolves as technology evolves - wish I could have been there when the first forks and knives came out.
Twitterers in front of Pae White's stunning tapestry on the third floor. That's Biennial co-curator Gary Carrion-Murayari second from the right, and the fabulous Carolina Miranda just to his left.
A fantastic Twitter tour of the Whitney Biennial yesterday. I'll have more to say soon (hopefully in a more polished format), but the brilliance of this initiative is starting to dawn on me. It is so rare to have a chance to take a tour of any show, much less the Biennial, with a curator, and through the power of Twitter, we were able to extend this unique privilege to anyone who tuned in.
Gary Carrion-Murayari, the co-curator of the Biennial, was very articulate about the work and an amazing storyteller. He made the art come alive. Here's a strange video I made of him talking about Aki Sasamoto's work.
Oh, and he rocks some great kicks:
Many thanks to WNYC and Carolina Miranda for hosting a great event. More thoughts soon.
It's Ada Lovelace Day! Last year, I wrote about the amazing Shelley Mannion, and this year, I wrote about not one, not two, but three fabulous women in technology. (Okay, so I sort of cheated and wrote the articles a a few weeks ago, and not expressly for Ada Lovelace Day.)
They come from two ends of the spectrum--one who has just begun her journey in arts and technology and two who pioneered studies in social media long before the days of Facebook, Twitter and even AIM. Here they are once more:
And here's my piece about Judith Donath's show, Connections, at MIT Museum, which also features the work of Fernanda Viegas. This is quite simply my favorite article I've written so far and in some sense captures my current thinking about intersections in art, design, technology and research. Judith had some insightful things to say about the role of artists in the 21st century (a common question of mine, to be sure), and about the importance of reflecting on all these technologies shaping our lives.
A now the much-awaited photos from Baltimore. Baltimore is one of those cities that America seems to have forgotten. Rows and rows of rowhouses, boarded up or blocked up. I'd not seen anything like it in the US outside of Detroit. That it's an hour from our nation's capital makes the visuals that much more heartbreaking.
These photos came from a few days of driving around Baltimore, mostly in the Northeast section. I don't have much to add here, except to note that I need to review The Wire at some point. I half-joke that it's my first true love, to which all other television series are now compared. Yes, it's that good.
Stopped by last night and early this morning to check out Man Bartlett's 24h #class action, part of Jennifer Dalton and William Powhida's #class. Here's what he wrote about the project:
A simple physical action, over time, can radically shift consciousness, specifically when combined with “real” and “virtual” social interactions. It is in this context that “24h #class action” plans to poke a pin into Koonsian psychological dramas.
Beneath its surface this intervention is an exercise in futility and one of joyous absurdity. The balloons will only take their long, phallic shape, without further form, and will eventually be liberated or executed. Is it possible to both celebrate and critique? Does it matter that risks were taken by Koons (and others) to create this ridiculously expensive series? Is ambition alone worth applause? Is the fact that 5 balloon dogs were fabricated a triumph? Is it “relevant?” What I’m grappling with is a complex relationship to the artist’s work, and really to all Art and Everything. And duration exposes fascinating avenues in the headspace to drive down.
Or, you know, we’re just blowing up balloons that we get to pop at the end, which is fun too.
Some photos:
And some video of Wednesday night and Thursday morning:
I do wish I had brought my SLR. Alas.
Be sure to check it out today, Thursday, at 4:30 pm, either by visiting Winkleman Gallery or the livestream, to watch the Tibetan mandala-like grand finale.
As often happens when I've finished a major series of projects, I've become deeply reflective lately. The panel at #class was my most recent major project, and I don't have any big things lined up for a while. ("Deeply reflective", of course, is code word for "artistic angst".)
A recent discussion with one of my editors about the fact that Art in America called me an "artist and critic" got me thinking about my role in the art world. Over the past 4-5 years of my art career, I've shown my art in galleries and museums, sold original prints, given away small prints, fundraised, performed online and in person, spoken in academic and art venues, organized discussions and written articles. At this point, I can't say I am an artist anymore, but does that make me a critic? An organizer? What does it all mean?
I posed this question to Facebook and Twitter to get others' thoughts:
I received a number of amazing responses, and it seems like the general consensus has been: follow your passion and keep doing what you're doing. That was encouraging, because I do worry that I might stretch myself thin and become a jack of all trades. But perhaps these dichotomies are false dichotomies; perhaps the boundaries are a little more nebulous than we've traditionally considered them. Why can't an artist also write about other artists, and then organize a discussion?
Jane Rainwater said something that's stuck with me: "When I am describing you to some one I have referred to you as a philosopher cell phone artist."
It was such a funny mash-up of words, and yet what was striking is that it made sense. I've still only taken 2-3 classes in art, all of which happened before my undergrad days, and in undergrad, I studied philosophy. So I naturally bring a philosophical approach to my work. I like to raise questions without providing answers.
For now, I've settled with the tag line "artist/photographer/essayist - digital meets analog". It summarizes what I do (and for the record, I don't consider myself a critic) and what I'm passionate about.
And it points to something I'm starting to explore: the idea of the 21st century artist as an engaged thinker, someone who engages the public in sometimes-difficult intellectual discourse using compelling aesthetics. The 21st century is a media-saturated and engaged century, and it only makes sense to me that the best way to engage others is to use those very same media that have become embedded in our lives.
Anyway, now it's time for a break from art creation and to explore some arts writing. Stay tuned for a few new pieces for Hyperallergic. In the mean time, check out some work I've put together for NYFA Current and Art21 Blog. Perhaps there's a way to revive the stories of art and make art relevant and interesting. Did I succeed? I'd love to hear your feedback.
And I'll end this rambling post with a lovely note that Tom Schreiber left me. I found it just right to capture some of the artistic angst I've been experiencing as of late:
A Letter to Agnes DeMille : Martha Graham
There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique.
If you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is; nor how valuable it is; nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.
You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly of the urges that motivate you.
Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction; a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.
Thanks to everyone for coming out to #class and joining the great roundtable discussion on Background, Identity and the Straight White Male. This was the first panel I've ever organized, and I really appreciate everyone's support.
I've received a good number of emails and comments afterward from folks who were a little hesitant about sharing their thoughts during the event. I'm putting together a blog post for http://hashtagclass.blogspot.com, and I'd love to include your thoughts on the topic and discussion.
I'd also welcome feedback on the format of the discussion and how it went, i.e., the nuts and bolts of the event. The general consensus so far has been that folks enjoyed the speakers but would have appreciated more time and opportunity for audience discussion and engagement. I'll definitely keep that in mind for next time.
Please comment here or email me directly at thatwaszen at gmail. I've received a ton of great notes so far and hope to continue the dialogue. Thanks!
For Armory Weekend, I'm happy to be organizing a roundtable discussion for #class, the fabulous event and Artforum Critics' Pick sweeping the art world at Winkleman Gallery. It will take place this Saturday, March 6 at 4 pm and will be moderated by the fabulous Joanne McNeill.
Not to single out any of the speakers, but it's a bit timely that one of the speakers, Raghava KK, just had an interview come out on CNN, where he talks about his background growing up as an artist in India and how he moved to Brooklyn. Hope to see you there, and sign up here. Those of you not in New York have no excuse: it will be livestreamed here.
Background, Identity and the Straight White Male As William Powhida wrote, "The complexion of the art world is a lighter shade of pale, and despite the Whitney Biennial's gender parity all is not well in the market." Artist An Xiao would like to invite an open table discussion about how artists' identities and backgrounds influence the perception, reception and display of their work. How do factors like perceived race, gender, age, socioeconomic status and sexual orientation affect our experience of the art world? To what extent *should* an artist's background be considered? We welcome those of all backgrounds with open arms to talk about your art, which could be worth making the implicit explicit. This panel will be moderated by writer Joanne McNeil.
Hector Canonge is an artist and teacher who lives and works in New York City where he studied literature, film and Integrated Media Arts. His work incorporates the use of various media and commercial technologies, physical environments, cinematic, and performance narratives.
Canonge’s works have been exhibited at the Jersey City Museum, The Bronx Museum of The Arts, Queens Museum of Art, and in various galleries in New York City and New Jersey, and it has been reviewed by the New York Times, ART FORUM and on online publications such as NYRemezcla, and Turbulence. As part of his community initiatives, he started the monthly Queens’ LGBT film program CINEMAROSA. He is also the co-founder of QMAD, Queens Media Arts Development, a non-for profit arts organization that serves various communities of Queens.
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Susanna Heller is an artist and teacher who paints, draws, and walks the city. Her work has been exhibited at Magnan Projects in New York, Olga Korper in Toronto and others thorugh the east coast, Canada and the Netherlands. Her work has been reviewed in the Brooklyn Rail, Art Info, Art in America, The New York Times, and she has taught at Rutgers, Parsons New School, and Yale.
She spoke recently with Carolina Miranda on WNYC about the Tino Sehgal Show.
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James Kalm is the pseudonym of a Brooklyn based painter who is a long time contributor to The Brooklyn Rail. He has written hundreds of published art reviews, catalogue essays, and cultural commentaries.
He invented the concept of online streaming video art criticism with the “Kalm Reports” employing YouTube and blip.tv with over 350 programs and has a worldwide following on the internet. His reports have been featured on numerous websites, art blogs, and online magazines like ARTFORUM.com, Art Daily and Saatchi Online TV. He is married, with two adult children, paints and writes in Brooklyn.
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Raghava KK is one of India's most celebrated emerging artists. His work has spanned genres as widely disparate as painting, sculpture, installation, film, performance, and even his own wedding.
He started his career in 1997 as a cartoonist with Indian national dailies and over the next 10 years, would reinvent himself to use several different mediums. He has lectured and taught at several art institutes, including the Ecole des Beaux-Arts (Nimes, France) and the New Hampshire Institute of Art (Manchester, NH, USA). Recently, he was invited to speak at the TED conference in California.
He lives and works both in the New York and Bangalore, India.
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Joanne McNeil is a science and technology writer living outside Boston, Mass. She writes the popular blog The Tomorrow Museum, a collection of images and speculative essays exploring how technology, science, and economics are affecting the fine arts.
Hi there. I'm An Xiao. I'm an artist, designer and writer An Xiao looking at the intersection of the digital and analog in the 21st century. I photograph, install, perform and tweet and have shown my work in publications and galleries internationally, including the Brooklyn Museum, Yale/Haskins Laboratories, The New York Times and Art in America. I founded and direct @Platea, a global online public art collective, and serve as a contributing columnist for PBS-affiliate Art21 and a contributing writer for the New York Foundation of the Arts and Hyperallergic.
That Was Zen, This Is Tao is my journey in haiblog -- brief, crisp prose about everything and anything that crosses my mind (which is a lot!), as I try to make some sense of the 21st century and bring a little Zen into it. In no particular order, I enjoy writing about the contemporary art world, Web 2.0 and the Internet, Zen and poetry, modern marketing, fashion and style, GTD (Getting Things Done), American politics and anything else of interest. I lead a hectic life, and I often use my iPhone to make updates in subways and parking lots. I also regularly post my most recent photography. I do hope you enjoy your stay! Below are some news updates from my web site.
