OPENING MY OWN BUSINESSES!
Look forward to opening up my custom bicycle paint shop/booth to all styles of bikes especially, steel, carbon, and aluminum (frame&fork).
More news shortly i'll keep you all posted!
I will be opening up the Spray Booth-Gallery aka (SB-G) at 130 West 18 Street location. You have to walk through Volker Bicycles to get to my Spray-Booth/Gallery. Opens first Friday February 4, 2011. Opens at 6:00-10:00p.m. Showing six great Artist that have all graduated from the Kansas City Art Institute in 2009-2010.
Show title: 6ix
Amanda Bowels
Christina Dostaler
Dave Rhoads
Matt Jacobs
Paul Antony Smith
Russell Shoemaker
More news shortly i'll keep you all posted!
I will be opening up the Spray Booth-Gallery aka (SB-G) at 130 West 18 Street location. You have to walk through Volker Bicycles to get to my Spray-Booth/Gallery. Opens first Friday February 4, 2011. Opens at 6:00-10:00p.m. Showing six great Artist that have all graduated from the Kansas City Art Institute in 2009-2010.
Show title: 6ix
Amanda Bowels
Christina Dostaler
Dave Rhoads
Matt Jacobs
Paul Antony Smith
Russell Shoemaker
OPENING MY OWN BUSINESSES!
Essay: Problem of my Deconstruction
My conceptual nature tends to come from the values of minimalism. The method of deconstruction is to confound a way of looking at the world that is solely dyadic and binary or both, by using the very principles of deconstruction. To perceive the work of deconstruction I must first construct before I can deconstruct. Deconstruction is not a theory, but a method for analyzing theory.
Deconstruction is not at the center of my work, but its eccentricity ensures the solid concentration of the system. At the same time, while participating in constructing the work, I am in the process of deconstructing it. It is not an operation that supersedes, but one that happens in the process. Since the disruptive force of deconstruction is already contained in the architecture of the work, all one would have to find in order to deconstruct, given this always ready, is to do memory work. Since I neither accept nor reject a conclusion formulated precisely, the perceptions of the work beg to question, ‘if what one sees is really what is.’
There is an aggressive search for order that indicates skepticism of an outright minimal aesthetic in the crude use of paint, but it also allows for the continued re-simplification of form that can be traced in the plastic covered paintings. These paintings are of a tactile nature.
When the forms in the work look at me they plunge themselves into the dimension of dialogue. The work is conscious, purely descriptive, resting on perception of construction and monumental phenomenon in deconstruction.
The subjectivity of the work is self-referential in color, geometry, shape, and line. The underbelly of this process lends itself to construction and deconstruction.
There’s a quality in viewing the work by slowing down and being latent, that allows the viewer to be capable of becoming conscious at any time, or unconscious, which is in reference to the body and shape.
The human mind knows recognizable shapes such as, squares, circles, triangles, hexagons, etc., so, what if we deal with fractals, deconstructing the constructed systems of thought that have ingrained themselves in society as recognizable shapes? The backwards effect of this logic is to deconstruct the formation of construction. This question tends to have the intangible answer and I find it flooded with content. When does a shape lose its constructed reference from the past and what do you call ‘it,’ the shape that you see now? ®
Deconstruction is not at the center of my work, but its eccentricity ensures the solid concentration of the system. At the same time, while participating in constructing the work, I am in the process of deconstructing it. It is not an operation that supersedes, but one that happens in the process. Since the disruptive force of deconstruction is already contained in the architecture of the work, all one would have to find in order to deconstruct, given this always ready, is to do memory work. Since I neither accept nor reject a conclusion formulated precisely, the perceptions of the work beg to question, ‘if what one sees is really what is.’
There is an aggressive search for order that indicates skepticism of an outright minimal aesthetic in the crude use of paint, but it also allows for the continued re-simplification of form that can be traced in the plastic covered paintings. These paintings are of a tactile nature.
When the forms in the work look at me they plunge themselves into the dimension of dialogue. The work is conscious, purely descriptive, resting on perception of construction and monumental phenomenon in deconstruction.
The subjectivity of the work is self-referential in color, geometry, shape, and line. The underbelly of this process lends itself to construction and deconstruction.
There’s a quality in viewing the work by slowing down and being latent, that allows the viewer to be capable of becoming conscious at any time, or unconscious, which is in reference to the body and shape.
The human mind knows recognizable shapes such as, squares, circles, triangles, hexagons, etc., so, what if we deal with fractals, deconstructing the constructed systems of thought that have ingrained themselves in society as recognizable shapes? The backwards effect of this logic is to deconstruct the formation of construction. This question tends to have the intangible answer and I find it flooded with content. When does a shape lose its constructed reference from the past and what do you call ‘it,’ the shape that you see now? ®
Essay 2: Art and Objecthood : Michael Fried -
Michael Fried’s view of Minimalism in Art and Objecthood
Briefly, the argument put forward by Michael Fried in Art and Objecthood was that the field of modernist art had become split between what must be seen as a true version of itself and a false one, with the false one both deadening sensitivity to and overwhelming experience of not only true modernism, but art in general. In order to clarify this distinction, and to deepen its readers’ sense of the stakes involved, Art and Objecthood rewrote this opposition in terms of a contrast between the notion of presence and that of presentness - the former referring to a brute, physical condition; the latter describing a situation that transcends the merely physical, one that in a certain mood we might characterize as an opening onto Being (or meaning/being).
That one tendency within modernism was simply to lapse into the sheer physicality of presence was, Fried argued, the result of a peculiarly reductive understanding of modernism’s supposed logic of self-reference. Reading that logic as prescribing the closer and closer approximation of the work of art to the parameters of its physical support, this tendency, culminating in minimalism, produced what Fried characterized as the literalist work of art, the work that, by purging itself of the last vestige of illusion, had become nothing but object. The consequences of this objecthood on the experience of the work were, Fried continued, to create a condition of reciprocity which could not but objectify the work’s viewer as well. This set up a situation in which everything around the minimalist work counted as part of its perceptual field - including the body of its beholder. That body, experienced as distanced and alienated, is then - like the object in front of it - submitted to and defined by the flow of material reality, a sort of brute physical space without beginning or end, without any inherent drive towards a culmination in meaning, without what could be called ‘point.’
The goal of modernist art is to produce the illusion, in the viewer, that he is not there - an illusion that is set up in reciprocity with the status of the work as mirage: it is not there and so, consequently, he is not there - a reciprocity of absence that the author of Art and Objecthood would go on to call in other contexts, a ‘supreme fiction.’ But this not being there must clearly be qualified, for we are not talking about total absence: no painting in an empty room. The mirage is there in its insistent condition as non-physicality, as the fiction of non-presence. So the viewer is there in a mirror condition, abstracted from his bodily presence and reorganized as the noncorporeal vehicle of a single stratum of sensory experience - a visual track that is magically unsupported by a body, a track that is allegorized, moreover, as pure cognition.
For such modernist painting as Cubism, Constructivism, and Abstract Expressionism, work that was often utopian and spiritual in its associations, the problem was to transcend the literal shape of its support. For Fried, painting could be declared art a priori, because the field of the canvas was understood as separate from the real world. However, the literal condition of the canvas as object had to be overcome. To a very great extent, this formalist reasoning extended to sculpture, where the object sought to transcend its base material state. Because Minimal or ‘literalist’ art relied on actual shape, Fried reasoned, it existed to “discover and project objecthood as such.” (120) In other words, literal presence became the principal goal of many ‘literalist’ objects, thus placing in question their ‘purity’ as art.
Fried considered the complex interplay between viewer and object ‘theatrical’ — and, consequently, inappropriate for sculpture. For him, the altered status of the spectator in the presence of such ‘literal’ sculpture amounted to “nothing more than a plea for a new genre of theater; and theater is now the negation of art.” (125) In a sense Fried was correct, for strategic disorientation of the spectator – through the use of altered gestalts, for example – was meant as a deliberate negation of traditional sculpture. In addition, the viewer was distanced by the objects themselves, objects inserted directly into the flow of their ambient space without the presence of mediating pedestals.
References
Fried, Michael. ‘Art and Objecthood,’ Artforum (June 1967); reprinted in Minimal Art, ed. Gregory Battcock, New York, Dutton, 1968.
Briefly, the argument put forward by Michael Fried in Art and Objecthood was that the field of modernist art had become split between what must be seen as a true version of itself and a false one, with the false one both deadening sensitivity to and overwhelming experience of not only true modernism, but art in general. In order to clarify this distinction, and to deepen its readers’ sense of the stakes involved, Art and Objecthood rewrote this opposition in terms of a contrast between the notion of presence and that of presentness - the former referring to a brute, physical condition; the latter describing a situation that transcends the merely physical, one that in a certain mood we might characterize as an opening onto Being (or meaning/being).
That one tendency within modernism was simply to lapse into the sheer physicality of presence was, Fried argued, the result of a peculiarly reductive understanding of modernism’s supposed logic of self-reference. Reading that logic as prescribing the closer and closer approximation of the work of art to the parameters of its physical support, this tendency, culminating in minimalism, produced what Fried characterized as the literalist work of art, the work that, by purging itself of the last vestige of illusion, had become nothing but object. The consequences of this objecthood on the experience of the work were, Fried continued, to create a condition of reciprocity which could not but objectify the work’s viewer as well. This set up a situation in which everything around the minimalist work counted as part of its perceptual field - including the body of its beholder. That body, experienced as distanced and alienated, is then - like the object in front of it - submitted to and defined by the flow of material reality, a sort of brute physical space without beginning or end, without any inherent drive towards a culmination in meaning, without what could be called ‘point.’
The goal of modernist art is to produce the illusion, in the viewer, that he is not there - an illusion that is set up in reciprocity with the status of the work as mirage: it is not there and so, consequently, he is not there - a reciprocity of absence that the author of Art and Objecthood would go on to call in other contexts, a ‘supreme fiction.’ But this not being there must clearly be qualified, for we are not talking about total absence: no painting in an empty room. The mirage is there in its insistent condition as non-physicality, as the fiction of non-presence. So the viewer is there in a mirror condition, abstracted from his bodily presence and reorganized as the noncorporeal vehicle of a single stratum of sensory experience - a visual track that is magically unsupported by a body, a track that is allegorized, moreover, as pure cognition.
For such modernist painting as Cubism, Constructivism, and Abstract Expressionism, work that was often utopian and spiritual in its associations, the problem was to transcend the literal shape of its support. For Fried, painting could be declared art a priori, because the field of the canvas was understood as separate from the real world. However, the literal condition of the canvas as object had to be overcome. To a very great extent, this formalist reasoning extended to sculpture, where the object sought to transcend its base material state. Because Minimal or ‘literalist’ art relied on actual shape, Fried reasoned, it existed to “discover and project objecthood as such.” (120) In other words, literal presence became the principal goal of many ‘literalist’ objects, thus placing in question their ‘purity’ as art.
Fried considered the complex interplay between viewer and object ‘theatrical’ — and, consequently, inappropriate for sculpture. For him, the altered status of the spectator in the presence of such ‘literal’ sculpture amounted to “nothing more than a plea for a new genre of theater; and theater is now the negation of art.” (125) In a sense Fried was correct, for strategic disorientation of the spectator – through the use of altered gestalts, for example – was meant as a deliberate negation of traditional sculpture. In addition, the viewer was distanced by the objects themselves, objects inserted directly into the flow of their ambient space without the presence of mediating pedestals.
References
Fried, Michael. ‘Art and Objecthood,’ Artforum (June 1967); reprinted in Minimal Art, ed. Gregory Battcock, New York, Dutton, 1968.
Defining Things Not Words
Solo Exhibition: "Defining Things, Not Words"
A review written by Review Mid-America's Visual Arts Publication.
FLUXUATING CONSTRUCTION, PAINTING by: Adam Crowley
www.ereview.org/2010/04/14/fluxuating-construction%C2%A0painting
The recent work of Andrew Lyles shows us a process – one of a remarkably focused investigation of color and form. This process starts with an exploration of the possibilities with painting. Andrew works to find relationships within a surface that have meaning for him as a reference to the world as he sees it. These surfaces are rich and thick, heavily worked – an attempt to find an organization within the confines of a rectangle (sort of) that resonates. These surfaces indicate a “painter’s” struggle to resolve the conditions of the work within the constraints of this traditional focus. But he can’t. These surfaces become part of the world that he is responding to, and the process continues.
Andrew has stated: “It is like picking out your favorite marbles, then throwing them up in the air and seeing how they land.” The relationships between the various marbles catch his attention. In his process, he focuses first on what is in front of him, and then sets it aside. As these “parts” accrue, the relationships between them start to assert themselves. Found parts that find their way into his studio as elements from the world he sees join in the conversation. Constructed wood forms, built first as a singular exploration, become frameworks for the other parts. The ultimate work becomes a conversation between this assortment of personal histories, observations and objects, and they often change dramatically with a shift in context.
Andrew’s studio process is diverse – it occurs in his painting studio, the wood shop, cycling around Kansas City on his bike, and ultimately in the space where the work will reside. The resolutions that he arrives at can occur within a single painting, drawing or construction, but most often they occur as a response to a particular time and place. They are fluid and conversational – not a declaration of a final statement, but rather an invitation for the viewer to join in the conversation.
James Woodfill
A review written by Review Mid-America's Visual Arts Publication.
FLUXUATING CONSTRUCTION, PAINTING by: Adam Crowley
www.ereview.org/2010/04/14/fluxuating-construction%C2%A0painting
The recent work of Andrew Lyles shows us a process – one of a remarkably focused investigation of color and form. This process starts with an exploration of the possibilities with painting. Andrew works to find relationships within a surface that have meaning for him as a reference to the world as he sees it. These surfaces are rich and thick, heavily worked – an attempt to find an organization within the confines of a rectangle (sort of) that resonates. These surfaces indicate a “painter’s” struggle to resolve the conditions of the work within the constraints of this traditional focus. But he can’t. These surfaces become part of the world that he is responding to, and the process continues.
Andrew has stated: “It is like picking out your favorite marbles, then throwing them up in the air and seeing how they land.” The relationships between the various marbles catch his attention. In his process, he focuses first on what is in front of him, and then sets it aside. As these “parts” accrue, the relationships between them start to assert themselves. Found parts that find their way into his studio as elements from the world he sees join in the conversation. Constructed wood forms, built first as a singular exploration, become frameworks for the other parts. The ultimate work becomes a conversation between this assortment of personal histories, observations and objects, and they often change dramatically with a shift in context.
Andrew’s studio process is diverse – it occurs in his painting studio, the wood shop, cycling around Kansas City on his bike, and ultimately in the space where the work will reside. The resolutions that he arrives at can occur within a single painting, drawing or construction, but most often they occur as a response to a particular time and place. They are fluid and conversational – not a declaration of a final statement, but rather an invitation for the viewer to join in the conversation.
James Woodfill
