The Green Fairy Resurrected

Absinthe, ah the decadent wonder of late nights and green fairies. Ah the miraculous release from life’s troubles. The scintillating pleasure of dissolving sugar in its neon depths.

Absinthe has saturated bar menus in Manhattan of late as the drink du jour. As far as I’m concerned, that jour is past.

However cool it may be that Van Gogh might have cut his earlobe off because of it, it doesn’t taste so delicious. You see the face of the woman in Picasso’s 1901 Absinthe Drinker? Nobody smiles in the paintings of absinthe drinkers. It’s because a vile green herbal liquor is sitting in front of them, reflecting a sickly pallor upon them. Absinthe was deliciously illegal and hard to obtain in Manhattan (which would make even toadstools a luxury good) but now it’s plentifully available. It tends to taste like anise, a flavor that I’ve always detested.

So what is there to be said in favor of this over-available, under-tasty liquor? Vintage poster art for one, and paintings like the one by Picasso for another. Artists seem to love portraying absinthe, whether its advertisements of smiling people and lascivous green lady fairies or paintings of sallow, dejected loners in bars. Could absinthe have been different then?

Up with The Man! Save the Art!

Edward Winkleman’s blog post yesterday on the hows and hopes that the new presidency would support the arts led me to thinking about funding. I appreciate an impressive amount of sponsorship from big corporations that in themselves I don’t always love. For instance in New York, the Brooklyn Museum of Art has Target First Saturdays, MoMA has Target First Fridays, and the Whitney After Hours program is sponsored by law firm Clifford Chance. Banks commonly sponsor major exhibitions.

This is not to say individuals do not play a role; on the contrary, the donations and loans by individuals are the traditional mainstay a museum depends on, for pieces of art as well as programs. Yet individuals don’t seem to be able to wholly fulfill that role anymore. Consider the Morgan Library. Once the home of art patron and financier Pierpont Morgan, the Morgan Library is a museum that was once a home, like the Frick Museum, but now made in to a public scpace and run by a board. Individuals still help support these institutions, but individuals are no longer the primary consumers or supporters of art. It’s a sea change from an individual to corporate level as a world of domineering steel age barons of America has given way to the dominate institutions of today.

Unfortunately, those institutions aren’t likely to be flush with money in 2009. Thomas Campbell, the new director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, has a plan to my liking: utilize the parts of the collection in storage rather than host expensive traveling exhibitions. Some are excited by the potential sales of private art collections that recent financial collapses have encouraged, but they should be more nervous about the future of sponsorship that also signals, as institutions become less likely to pledge funds. All the more reason for the hopes that a new White House administration can fix everything. Rings a tad naïve to my ears, but here’s to hoping.

Self Lubricating Plastic, Oh My

On the left is The Deportment of the Host, a large installation, and on the right is a print entitled Drawing Restraint 9: Shimenawa. These seem very different in size, style, material, and theme, so that one might think all they had in common the room they are in.

These two works have in common 2 qualities: the artist, Matthew Barney, and a material, not immediately apparent, of self lubricating plastic. Matthew Barney is a contemporary American artist whose works spans performance, sculpture and video art, with a tendency toward cryptic personal stories and erotic themes. Quite a few of Barney’s works incorporate this material. In the print, it forms the frame around an image of Matthew Barney and Bjork. His use of this odd material certainly seems cryptic.

But to the point, what is self lubricating plastic, and why does Barney use it? It seems like a high tech product used to little effect, except perhaps the fondness of a biology major for cool technology. He tends to cast polycaprolactone thermoplastic and self lubricating plastic in his sculptural pieces like The Deportation of the Host. Using anything lubricating in regards to framing a print doesn’t make sense to me.

The plastic didn’t seem to be wet, although I was stopped from touching it. Any ideas?