Art as Posession: From the Hearst Castle to Cleansed Bills

Hearst Castle

“The prime aim of these wild Xanadus (as of every Xanadu) is not so much to live there, but to make posterity think how exceptional the people who did live there must have been.” (Eco, p. 27).

Umberto Eco, in Travels in Hypperreality, asserts that America’s wax museums/Hearst Castle/Marilyn Motel etc. arise out of a “horror vacui” since we exist outside of a European, historical past and therefore we need to take fake possession of the real. This is similar to previous function of oil paintings in society. Berger in Ways of Seeing (see previous post) asserts that oil painting was a way of owning property in lieu of the real thing or as a demonstration of what one owned for society and posterity. Basically, its all about possession and value. How capitalist.

So I guess we Americans are left with a simulacrum of the real as a roads to possession. Eco continues that people seem to think if its a good enough simulacrum, such as the Hearst Castle, its almost better than the ‘real’ thing.

“Cleansed” bill in Draw your Money project.

Roland Farkas, a Slovakian artist in Hungary, gets at this notion with his 2011 project, Draw your Money, where he takes something literally capitalist, a banknote, and turns it into art. Draw Your Money involves cleansing banknotes of the ink markings that give them value. The artist removes the ink from paper money to create blank slates for drawings: “In this way the ink and paper of bills are recycled as materials for an original artwork, the value of which is greater than that of the denominated note from which it was created.”

Via Rising Tensions

In trying to thing of something intelligent to say, I poked around the internet and found this. Which kind of sums it all up if you were to throw in some dollar bills.

Hey, I went to Philadelphia! (Medieval style)

Yep, this is Philadelphia. I went to see the Van Gogh exhibition – completely sold out – and ended up browsing the Medieval section of the museum. Atmospheric, no?

I made a friend a few inches tall carved in ivory. She seems nice and devout. I quite like her.

But there’s another side to her – a darker side reminding one of death as much Medieval art does. 

There were some extraordinary works of art. There were also sea monsters.

Of course the sea monster here is a woman. Just like blaming Eve for that whole apple incident. I feel sure that there are an equal number of male and female seamonsters, but when do you ever see the male portrayed?

This picture depicts a typical angel crowning going on in the main room (you know how it is). 

However, who is the mystery man in boxer shorts at the door? Why is he included in this picture of St. Veronica and her husband being crowned by angels when he seems to be delivering wood? That’s what I like about these Medieval artists: You know they are going be absolute fanatics about details, so you get a sense of what it was truly like the day Veronica was crowned.

Dragon.
I also enjoyed the portraits of highly unattractive people.

Outside the museum, a fog hung low over the city.

Rich and vivid color: Chagall’s America Window

Marc Chagall’s America Windows were one of delightful surprises I encountered at the Art Institute this weekend in Chicago. Apparently recently re-installed after a long restoration, this large tripartite stained glass glows with the fantastic color you associate with Chagall.

Originally installed in 1977, Chagall created the windows as a gift to the city of Chicago. Stained glass was a medium he came to later in life – in his 70s – but he managed to create many notable works. Here he celebrates America’s bicentennial with symbols of America as well as more idiosyncratic ones.

Chagall employed a stain glass artist to make the pieces according to his specifications. Then he painted the glass with metallic oxide paints that were heated to fuse the color and design permanently to the glass. The entire image glows with rich and vivid color.

Click on any of the images for a larger view.