Thad Final Review

Proust Armchair

Alessandro Mendini, 1970s, Bauhaus Collection One of the first examples of postmodern design, this armchair rejected the undecorated geometric forms, industrial materials, and functionalist values of classical modernism. Inspired by the idea of creating an ironic object linked to a historic literary figure, Italian designer Alessandro Mendini determined to make an armchair suitable in form and decoration for French writer Marcel Proust. After studying Proust's visual and material world, Mendini selected a ready-made Neo-Rococo-style upholstered chair and had it hand-painted with juxtaposed dots of pure color, a technique inspired by the pointillist canvases of Georges Seurat and Paul Signac, who were contemporaries of Proust. Calling attention to the outward look, pastiche everything, 投影别人的画去paint，rococo style chair, the chair name is also not original

Picasso/Whose Rules

Fred Wilson 1991 Life-size reproduction of Picasso's Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, but fitter with an African mask and animated by a television During his lifetime, Picasso's influence on art was undisputed; however, during the last four decades his significance for contemporary artists has proven controversial. Other historical artists, particularly Marcel Duchamp, are widely considered to have had a greater impact on recent art. This exhibition addresses the question of whether Picasso continues to be important for contemporary art and considers the variety of ways in which artists are engaging his art. As the 58 works in the galleries reveal, contemporary artists have created some of the most significant art of recent decades in response to Picasso's achievements. They have reinterpreted the meanings of Picasso's oeuvre and liberated his legacy from the constraints of past ideologies. These artists freely explore and contest Picasso's status. They do not perceive Picasso as merely a paradigm of the twentieth-century European avant-garde as, for many of these artists, Picasso is a polyvalent model for artists worldwide to address the global expansion and diversification of contemporary art in the twenty-first century.

Storage Wall

George Nelson, 1945 In even the newest homes, closets are often badly planned afterthoughts. The average closet is really suitable only for hanging clothes. Other things are always put high out of reach on a shelf or in Stygian darkness on the floor. The large-sized closets are often too deep. Half of their contents must be plowed through to reach the things piled in the back. Other than the use of the word Stygian, that could have been written yesterday. Attacking these difficulties, Architects George Nelson and Henry Write concluded that most family paraphernalia could be best kept in a space 12 inches deep. With this in mind they designed the storage wall, a device planned for keeping household articles neatly and conveniently in the otherwise wasted hollow space within a wall. Nelson said that for a designer to deal creatively with human needs, "he must first make a radical, conscious break with all values he identifies as antihuman." Designers also must constantly be aware of the consequences of their actions on people and society. In fact, he declared that "total design is nothing more or less than a process of relating everything to everything." So he said that rather than specializing, designers must cultivate a broad base of knowledge and understanding.

Untitled (I Feel Most Colored)

Glenn Ligon, 1990s The prints include the following phrases, among others: "I do not always feel colored"; "I feel most colored when I am thrown against a sharp white background"; and "I am an invisible man...I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me." he borrows prose from Zora Neale Hurston and Ralph Ellison to produce etchings and aquatints. Produced a decade ago, Ligon's text-based works are executed in a densely layered manner that obscures some of the words, further dramatizing and underscoring their meaning. The prints draw from Hurston 's 1928 "How it feels to be colored me and Ellison's 1952 novel "Invisible Man." The candid texts articulate what many 20th century blacks certainly felt but were loathe to reveal.

The Lock-Up

Graciela Carnevale, 1960s The work consists of first preparing a totally empty room, with totally empty walls. One of the walls, which was made of glass, had to be covered in order to achieve a suitably neutral space for the work to take place. In this room the participating audience, which has come together by chance for the opening, has been locked in. The door has been hermetically closed without the audience being aware of it. I have taken prisoners. The point is to allow people to enter and to prevent them from leaving. Here the work comes into being and these people are the actors. There is no possibility of escape, in fact the spectators have no choice; they are obliged, violently, to participate. Their positive or negative reaction is always a form of participation." (Graciela Carnevale) With the action El encierro (The Enclosure), Carnevale sought to unleash a liberating violence in response to the violence she herself was exercising as a metaphor for the opposing forces in the capitalist system along the lines of Franz Fanton's book The Wretched of the Earth, which was read assiduously by that generation. The action ended abruptly when the police intervened.

Shango Dance Staff

In Cuba and Nigeria, wood and cloth, 19th century Among African art forms, wooden figurative sculpture has received a great deal of attention from western cultures. Wood is the material typically used throughout Sub-Saharan Africa because it is practical and available. The human figure is most commonly represented in sculptural form. Lees frequently, animals such as birds, antelopes, monkeys, and leopards, are depicted. Figures are represented standing with bent knees or seated on a circular stool. Few sculptures depict figures in movement. African sculpture is very balanced and symmetrical. A common device used to create a sense of balance is the repetition of shapes within different parts of the body. While a sculpture is meant to be understood form a continuous view, by walking around it, most African sculpture does not have a predetermined direction for viewing, some figures were never intended for display, and therefore will not stand on their own. African art is not meant to be an illusion of reality. The features and body parts are often somewhat abstract in form igurative sculpture is widely used in divination practices. Many of the diviner's instruments are elaborately carved with heads, faces, and figures. Power sculpture, nkisi, is used in the Zaire river basin for healing and protection.

Little North Road, 2010

In addition to the bridge portraits, Little North Road includes a short film that documents life on the pedestrian bridge, a video that contains interviews with a number of the African pedestrians on the bridge, and a series of large, wonderful photographs (one of which is reproduced below) by Traub, picturing the neighborhoods surrounding the bridge.Traub, Wu & Feng Artist Daniel Traub has collected photographs of many those West Africans from a pedestrian bridge in that city and documented the remarkable presence of that population in China. Michael Lieberman tells us about Traub's work in this article. Little North Road presents the story of a pedestrian bridge in Guangzhou, China, and a community of immigrants from West Africa who were photographed on that bridge. Guangzhou, which once was known as Canton, is China's third largest city, with over 14 million inhabitants. The city sits just south of the Tropic of Cancer in the Pearl River Delta, about 90 miles northwest of Hong Kong. Guangzhou and its surroundings comprise one of the largest manufacturing hubs in the world, and the area has become a center for international trade and commerce. From 2005 until maybe 2010 or so, it seemed the number of Africans was on the rise. But within that period, it did fluctuate—the financial crisis of 2008 stopped things quite a bit in all of the world. It all depends on how much investment China is putting in in Africa. In the last two years, the number of Africans in Xiaobeilu has actually decreased. There are a lot of reasons for that, mostly economic, but also, China used the Ebola crisis as an excuse to clamp down on the whole community. You know, there's a lot of racism, suspicion, and just general discomfort toward the African community living in the midst of China. Today, there are fewer Africans going into Guangzhou. Moreover, a lot of the commerce on the bridge has stopped. Nobody is allowed to sell goods there anymore, so actually both of the photographers are no longer working there.

Gnaw

Janine Antoni, 1990s Gnaw began life as a pair of large cubes, one of chocolate, one of lard, each weighing in at 600 pounds. In their final form, elevated on marble pedestals, the two blocks are visibly diminished. The corners are rounded, the surfaces marked. Far from the result of natural erosion, though, this scarring was imposed by the teeth of Janine Antoni. Gnashing and nibbling, the artist worked to prove that sculptures need not be fashioned by hands. The abrasions provide us with insight into the materials' textures. We see the dental scrapes in the chocolate, the soft depressions of nose and chin in the lard. The untouched areas highlight the physical limitations of Antoni's undertaking, as we picture her struggling to negotiate the difficult angles. The offcuts were neither eaten nor discarded; the process was one of extraction. The mined resources were recast into heart-shaped boxes and lipstick tubes, then exhibited in a small room, made out of three display cabinets, nearby. Tongue firmly in cheek, Antoni presents a commercial caricature of femininity: makeup and Valentine's Day clichés. Gone are the minimalistic blocks that sat on the studio floor. Refined approaches and rigid substances are nowhere to be seen. Antoni adapts the cubes from the minimalist vocabulary and the gnawing from the lexicon of feminist performance art. She forces two lineages of art, one largely feminine and physical (feminist performance art), and the other largely masculine and cerebral (minimalism), into uneasy confluence. In this pair of pairs - chocolate cube/lard cube, chocolate boxes/lard lipsticks- she offers a dialectic of desire. Minimalism prevailed among the leading American male artists in the 1960s and 70s and was defined by spare, but massive, machine-made sculptures, which were usually rectilinear and made of metal. COncurrent with the rise of minimalism, many leading women artists turned to a new kind of performance art, in which they made novel use of their own bodies.

Penetrable

Jesus Soto, 1990, aluminum and nylon For each of these exhibitions, Soto used swaying nylon thread or plastic string to turn the gallery space into an all-encompassing, kinetic installation, in which the experience of the spectator within the constructed environment was central to the work's meaning. Soto's sculptures and environments often play with the juxtaposition of solid and void, deliberately unsettling the act of viewing by blurring the distinction between reality and illusion. As the work's title implies, the architecturally scaled structure is intended to be pierced both optically and physically by the viewer. This interactive aspect sets it apart from many works presented within museum settings, in which objects are not meant to be touched. The piece is made of basic industrial materials, the bulk of it comprised of yellow plastic hoses that are suspended from a simple steel grid. The audience are dissolved and become part of the artwork. At is motion because everything in the universe is constantly in motion.

Rotation

Jesús Rafael Soto, 1950, oil on wood Drawing inspiration from optics, music theory, and phenomenology, Jesús Soto (1923-2005) invented a radically new relationship between the artwork and the viewer. Soto soon extended these visual experiments into real space, painting vibrantly colored abstract motifs on layers of Plexiglas, which he then superimposed to create three-dimensional objects. Implying the movement of rotation, from line to dot. White squares rotating clockwise Square gone, only lines， less tactile,

Pictures from the Street

Joachim Schmid, 1982-2007

Cabaret Voltaire Poster

Neville Brody, 1980s Cabaret Voltaire was the name of an artistic nightclub in Zürich, Switzerland. It was founded by Hugo Ball, with his companion Emmy Hennings, in the back room of Holländische Meierei, Spiegelgasse 1, on February 5, 1916, as a cabaret for artistic and political purposes. Other founding members were Marcel Janco, Richard Huelsenbeck, Tristan Tzara, and Sophie Taeuber-Arp and Jean Arp. Events at the cabaret proved pivotal in the founding of the anarchic art movement known as Dada. The Cabaret Voltaire. Under this name a group of young artists and writers has formed with the object of becoming a center for artistic entertainment. In principle, the Cabaret will be run by artists, permanent guests, who, following their daily reunions, will give musical or literary performances. Young Zürich artists, of all tendencies, are invited to join us with suggestions and proposals.[3]

Synecdoche

Synecdoche (1991-present), by Korean-American artist Byron Kim (b. 1961), is an ongoing project of portraiture that now comprises more than 400 panels, each a single hue ranging from light tan or pink to dark brown. Finding sitters among strangers, friends, family, neighbors, and fellow artists, Kim records each person's skin color in oil paint mixed with wax that he applies with a palette knife on a single 10 x 8-inch panel, a common size for portrait photography. When the work is installed, the accompanying subtitle consists of the full names of the sitters, arranged alphabetically by first name. Synecdoche was a watershed for the artist and has received much acclaim since its first showing in the 1993 Whitney Biennial. Subsequent iterations have been seen in installations and exhibitions around the world. The work can be installed in many ways, using some or all of the panels, in a grid of almost any size or shape. Kim's work explores the history of abstract painting, the problems of color and vision, and issues of human identity and existence. The title—referring to a figure of speech in which a part represents the whole or vice versa—makes clear that issues of representation, both visual and democratic, are in play., 1990s Oil and wax on wood

Eternal Presence

Wifredo Lam, 1940s. Afro-Chinese-Cuban painter Wifredo Lam—said to be the painter of Negritude—to the movement with regard to gender. The present article explores Lam's valorization of female figures, and in particular the Santeria priestess and the femme cheval or horse-headed woman, not only as protectors and disseminators of Afro-Cuban culture, but also as models of empowerment over and against their white exploiters and colonizers. Lam, who himself associated his godmother with the ashé or sacred power of Shango, the bellicose Santeria god of fire and lighting, evoked that sacred power in numerous paintings, metaphorically and with poetic license, through flashes of lightning, red and white (the colors of Shango), and sharp spines protruding from his figures like weapons of warfare. "Lam packaged his [art] in the modernist language that was all the rage in Western Europe, thereby guaranteeing that [it] would find its way, surreptitiously into the fortress of Western civilization" Afro-Cuban religious ceremonies in 1922 on the grounds that they were barbaric and that they allegedly led to crimes against "children of the white race" (Fuente 50-1), Lam's incorporation of Santeria iconography in his art was an important part of his Negritude—his desire to valorize Afro-Cuban cultural elements that were in danger of amputation. When Lam returned to Cuba in 1941, Afro-Cuban religions were still largely associated with demon worship and brujería or witchcraft by white elites and One of the clearest examples of Lam's idiosyncratic, anti-colonial modernism is the femme cheval or horse-headed woman that figures prominently in his Cuban paintings and that counters Gauguin's representations of the domesticatable racial, feminine Other. Indeed, it was through his iconic figure of the horse-headed woman that Lam used the modernist idioms of Cubism, Surrealism, and primitivism to affirm the dignity of Afro-Cuban women and to oppose the myth, propagated by Bougainville and reiterated by Loti and Gauguin, of exotic colonized women as existing to fulfill the sexual desires of the western male. Afro-Cuban professionals (Fuente 154-5). It was through paintings such as The Jungle that Lam helped to elevate the status of Afro-Cuban cultural forms such as Santeria.

Nelson's Ship in a bottle

Yinka Shonibare 2010s Nelson's Ship in a Bottle by Yinka Shonibare MBE is a 1:30 replica of Nelson's flagship, HMS 'Victory', on which he died during the Battle of Trafalgar on 21 October 1805. It has 80 guns and 37 sails set as on the day of battle. The richly patterned sails were inspired by Indonesian batik, mass-produced by Dutch traders and sold in West Africa. Today these designs are associated with African dress and identity. The characteristic bright colours and abstract symmetries of Dutch Wax fabric have accrued many complex, often ambivalent associations - with colonialism, industrialisation, emigration, cultural appropriation, and the invention (and reinvention) of tradition - all of which are foregrounded in Shonibare's work. Used for the rigging of Nelson's Ship in a Bottle, the legacy of Dutch Wax assumes a further, distinctly maritime significance. Shonibare is one of Britain's best-known artists. He was nominated for the Turner Prize in 2004, the same year in which he was awarded an MBE (an appellation that he uses when exhibiting and signing works). He has exhibited at the Venice Biennial and internationally at leading museums. In autumn 2008, a major retrospective of the artist's career to date opened at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Sydney, touring to Brooklyn Museum, New York and the Smithsonian Institution, Washington.

Cut piece

Yoko Ono, 1960s, performance

Conceptual Art

a work in which the ideas are often as important as how it is made

Black Horse wife and child in native costume

1870s, unknown photographer Black Horse was one of the leading war chiefs of the Comanches during the attack at Adobe Walls, in 1874. His wife was not sentenced to prison, but begged to be allowed to accompany her husband, with their daughter. Mother and child spent three years at Fort Marion, and were among the individuals of most interest to many of the visiting tourists. Here, the family are seated on the ancient, Spanish iron cannons which originally had been mounted in the gun ports trained toward the harbor.

"Cubism and Abstract Art," on view at the MOMA

1930s. Photo: Beaumont Newhall. Barr's approach to exhibition design was quite revolutionary. Always a teacher, Barr strove to make modern art accessible and relevant to a diverse audience who was unaccustomed to such radical art that veered away from traditional naturalism. Thinking of the museum as a laboratory, Barr used innovative pedagogical techniques to formulate wall labels and installations. He relied on leading questions, juxtapositions, and even humor to engage the audience. While Barr's formalism seems restricting and even traditional, he had a capacious view of what constituted modern art. Influenced by the Bauhaus and Constructivist workshops in Russia, Barr understood modern art to encompass not just painting and sculpture but also applied art, design, architecture, film, photography, and theater. the day's most adventurous artists "had grown bored with painting facts. By a common and powerful impulse they were driven to abandon the imitation of natural appearance." To demonstrate the breadth of this modernist impulse toward abstraction, Barr assembled a wide-ranging exhibition of nearly 400 works of painting, drawing, printmaking, sculpture, architecture, furniture, theater design, and typography. He also drew up a now-famous diagram of the origins and influences of modern art that was reproduced on the catalogue's dust jacket.

JamPact/Jellitite(for Jamila)

1980s Jeff Donalson Donaldson has always maintained that musical images have had a major impact on his art. In recognizing the importance to the African American expressive arts of integrating "design, word, act, and attitude, Clearly, Africobra aesthetics were music related, and musical metaphors abound in contem- porary accounts of the aesthetic stances of Africo- bra artists. Moreover, although many musical terms in common use are actually visual metaphors—for example, shape, line, color, and texture—Africo- brans inverted this usage through their extensive references to "rhythm" and "improvisation." ble-consciousness" that extends W. E. B. Du Bois's notion toward deeper levels of symbolism. For Donaldson, double-consciousness involves "asso- ciations with overt and disguised symbolism, hav- ing levels of meaning beyond the immediately visible. Jeffries's notion of "moving in and out of old and current stylistic tendencies while main- taining an Afrocentric ambiance" describes well both the music and the painting, as European and trans-African sonic and visual elements permeate both works. Donaldson sees this multidominance of historical reference, with elements of music from all over the world coexisting routinely in many forms of jazz, as "cultural pluralism—a fusion of multi- continental principles and elements in the context of Trans-African stylistic innovation."

Lessons of Darkness

1987 - Christian Boltanski Wrote Mary Jane Jacobs in the exhibit's catalogue, "Christian Boltanski's work is about life; he loads his work with images of people...His highest goal is for his art to be mistaken for life itself. To Boltanksi, uniting art and life is essential in order to make effective and meaningful work. 'For me,' he has remarked, 'painting isn't provocative or moving, only life is moving. But I am an artist and therefore all I do is termed art. I can only postpone the viewer's awareness of my work as art. One day, of course, it's forcibly discovered. The fascinating moment for me is when the spectator hasn't registered the art connection, and the longer I can delay this association the better.' Working with this goal in mind, he has defined since 1968 his own unique position on what it means to be and avant-garde artist: art for Boltanski, is avant-garde when you cannot name whether it is art or life. "You know the Lessons of Darkness is very Catholic. It's a special mass, I think there are three masses three days before the Sanctus Friday, the Friday before Easter. This mass begins at five o'clock in the afternoon, and in the beginning, when you arrive, you have daylight: and coming out, when it's finished, it's dark. At the end of the mass they switch off all the candles and lights: people go slowly into the darkness. The music for this special mass is called "The Sense of Darkness" because it's going into sadness in the darkness. If my show works, it must work a little like that. At the beginning of the installation, there is some light and the more you walk, the more it's dark and the more it's sad. The last room, the archive room, is very, very sad. It's a very little room with 400 people inside. Here are all the photos I use and reuse in my life, my archive" (www.bombsite.com).

Number 1, Lavender Mist

Abstract Expressionism painting by Jackson Pollock, 1950 Number One, 1950 (Lavender Mist) embodies the artistic breakthrough Pollock reached between 1947 and 1950. It was painted in an old barn-turned-studio next to a small house on the East End of Long Island, where Pollock lived and worked from 1945 on. The property led directly to Accabonac Creek, where eelgrass marshes and gorgeous, watery light were a source of inspiration for him. Using house paint, he dripped, poured, and flung pigment from loaded brushes and sticks while walking around it. He said that this was his way of being "in" his work, acting as a medium in the creative process. For Pollock, who admired the sand painting of the American Indians, summoning webs of color to his canvases and making them balanced, complete, and lyrical, was almost an act of ritual. Fractals Pollock uses mainly green, white, black and in some cases brown to give the painting an earthy appearance, further demonstrating on the idea of textual layers which are clearly presented to the viewer. The elements and principles Pollock uses here are colour, contrast, texture, emphasis and variety. The use of colour contributes to the overall effect of the painting which appears to be very earthy, atmospheric and relatively calm from the light of the whites to the intense streaks of striking black. Contrast is used here to balance the whole picture resulting in a flowing formation which Pollock was most prized and famed for. These types of paintings were a part of the new art historical movement of abstract expressionism. This was action painting, where the act of painting was very important, and it can become a very quickly done, highly expressive, medium. Pollock painted this by dripping paint, layer upon layer, until a dense sheet of color was formed over the entire canvas. When documented, the act of painting a abstract expressionist painting seems very spontaneous and without much thought, the artist however said "There was no accident."

Shango

Ademola Olugebefola 1960s Acrylic and mixed media on panel Ademola Olugebefola's colorful, totemic "Shango" exemplifies this push — painted in 1969, it introduces black Americans to the Yoruba god of thunder, rendered in primary tones of red, blue, black and white. Shango, major deity of the religion of the Yoruba of southwestern Nigeria. Shango, also called Chango, major deity of the religion of the Yorubaof southwestern Nigeria. He also figures in the religion of the Edopeople of southeastern Nigeria, who refer to him as Esango, and in the religion of the Fon people of Benin, who call him Sogbo or Ebioso. Like all of the Yoruba gods (orishas), Shango is both a deified ancestor and a natural force, both aspects being associated with a cult and a priesthood. During the 18th and 19th centuries, thousands of Yoruba, Bini, and Fon people were enslaved and transported to the Americas. In some locations in the Caribbean and South America, African slaves and their descendants were able to reestablish Shango's worship. In the early 21st century, Shango was worshipped in the Vodou religion of Haiti, the Santería tradition of Cuba, and also in the Candomblé cult of Brazil.

Race Riot

Andy Warhol, 1960s. Silk screen on canvas. As said above, the painting Race Riots, captures a scene from peaceful march by the protesters during the Birmingham Campaign. The police used firehose and police dogs to disrupt the march. Warhol's Race Riots, I submit, paint history from two specifiable points of view. First, he paints as a liberal, and this political stance helps explain the fact that he is actually working in such a surprisingly traditional way. We need to make a distinction between the signature "look" of the Race Riot pictures-the silk screens,the appropriation, and the like-and the nature of their chosen photographicframes. The frames he uses bear comparison to Salon painting, in full historical flight. They have singular protagonists, actions and reactions, onlookers and ac- tors, all caught equally in the ongoing swirl of events. The sequence narrates. It is charged with before and after. We are nearly back with the "significant moment" so dear to Jacques-Louis David and his school. Warhol's interest in such effects accounts likewise for his decision to screen more than one image into a picture: remember how rare it is for him to do this. In interrupting his standard staccato with such variation and phrasing, I think War- hol is taken over by a special, unaccustomed purpose: to return narrative and temporality to his work and thus to locate his work's narrative within the temporal world. This is not only because Warhol was waylaid by his loyalties as a liberal-by his need to "feel" and "identify"-but also because race is a different kind ofhistorical object than the "commodity" or "celebrity" or "mass production." It cannot be allegorized. The image is changed only in size and status from a newspaper photograph. In the form of a print in this portfolio it commemorates the tensions in American popular life at the time, and forcefully illustrates the distance of the arts from such events.

Whose Utopia?

Cao Fei, 2000s, single channel video. Whose Utopia (2006) centers on the lives of workers at the Osram lighting factory in China's Pearl River Delta region, an area outside Hong Kong that is a site of nationwide migration by people seeking expanded work opportunities in the country's blossoming economy. Over the course of six months, Cao Fei filmed daily life at the factory, highlighting the mechanized tasks performed by employees, while also interviewing them about their motivations for working there. Based on their responses, she then collaborated with the workers to develop the performances that comprise the central section of the video. In costumes or street clothes, these anonymous figures dance and play music while other employees, unnoticing, continue to work around them. The poetic, dreamlike vision of individualism within the constraints of industrialization illuminates the otherwise invisible emotions, desires, and dreams that permeate the lives of an entire populace in contemporary Chinese society.

Farm Security Administration

Arthur Rothstein, documentary photography in the U.S' During the 1930s, America went through one of its greatest challenges: the Great Depression. President Franklin D. Rooseveltattempted to relieve the dire economic situation with his New Dealprograms. To justify the need for those projects, the government employed photographers to document the suffering of those affected and publish the pictures. Their efforts produced some of the most iconic photographs of the Great Depression - and all of American history. 1937-43 The Farm Security Administration (FSA) was created in the Department of Agriculture in 1937. The FSA and its predecessor, the Resettlement Administration (RA), were New Deal programs designed to assist poor farmers during the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression. Roy Emerson Stryker was the head of a special photographic section in the RA and FSA. During its eight-year existence, the section created the 77,000 black-and-white documentary still photographs (also at the Library of Congress) for which it is world-famous. Stryker created a team of "documentary photographers." They didn't want to just churn out propaganda photos of bread lines, vacant farmhouses and barefoot children caked with dust. They also wanted to capture the raw emotion behind the drudgery and bring empathy to the suffering of ordinary Americans. Photos showed 'the city people what it's like to live on the farm.'

Capital Complex

Chandigarh, from Oeuvre Complete, 1950-1960, Le Corbusier site-specific, emotional architecture that demonstrates new nationalism(towards Pakistan "partition of India") with the western "progress" and "development" modernism of the third world nations. 在西方的话语权里融合自身特色来证明自己。⬇️But also an erasion of colonial history

Black Face and Arm Unit

Ben Jones. 1970s Jones acknowledges the vibrancy of the body as the medium for creative expression. This installation consists of 30 life-size plaster coasts of faces and arms decorated in dots and stripes of different colors and patterns. The patterns resembled those of African body-paint traditions. Body painting was used in African societies to denote social status and religious beliefs. The piece combines abstract expressionist versions of painted African masks to suggest scarification with detached crooked arms. The installation represents the black body as a temple of creativity. The sculptures are portrayed with one eye opened and the other eye closed perhaps suggesting the links between the living and the dead and also the dual nature of artistic expression itself (between the world of matter and the world of spirit or conscious and unconscious). Jones' interest in religious rituals may have inspired this installation, but it was this installation that inspired Ben Jones to look deeper into his African roots. The use of canvas for the faces and arms represent the ideology of African skin often regarded as a black canvas. One could look at this installation as Jones' blank canvas—a canvas that he intended to fill with knowledge of his African roots. Gere Girl

No +

CADA, 1983-present, action In 1983, the 10th year of Augusto Pinochet's dictatorship in Chile, CADA proposed the slogan 'NO +' (NO more). This was meant as an open text to be completed by the citizens, according to their specific social demands (No more ...). CADA invited Chilean artists from different fields to spread this message on walls all over Santiago. Wall tagging was the first form of NO+, but the slogan was soon used by different collectives all over the country as a massive public symbol of political resistance and non-conformity.Shown in this video clip is a 'Making Of' documentary, including a synopsis of the project (in Spanish), footage of the first NO+ actions in the Mapocho river in Santiago, and a series of slides (showing diverse actions, protests, plays, and wall tags) evidencing multiple appropriations and uses of the slogan for political intervention in the public sphere. This acción continues operating until our present times - a protean work that CADA envisioned as an open path for future generations of artists and citizens.

At what cost, Extraction

Cannupa Hanska Luger, 2010s Reflects the monster that we as human beings in contemporary times have created. Continued participation in feeding this monster through our unbalanced consumption will in turn result in this monster consuming us, Clay as material and the Buffalo skull as imagery each represent the land and our relationship to it for our true survival. The black-on-black glazing methods are a subversive choice, representing our invented dependency, or our unnecessary bond, to oil and other extractive industries.

Museum Tags

Daniel Martinez, 1990s, metal tags Chang: Daniel, you created the museum tags, which were the first piece of art that people encounted in the Biennial. How did this fit into the kinds of questions that you were thinking about at that particular moment? Martinez: [The Whitney doesn't] use them anymore, but [at that time] they had these little metal tags that you would wear to show you paid admission. Each day has a different color. I proposed to Elisabeth that we break up the sentence, "I can't imagine ever wanting to be white," into a number of different phrases and print those on the tags. It's structurally based on Ferdinand de Saussure's theory about the organization of language and how you can change meaning in language by changing the organization of language. It is an organization of an idea that is passive-aggressive. Visitors to the museum became part of the work because they had to wear one portion of the phrase. Identity is a construction, right? The same way gender is a construction or sexuality is a construction. So here, identity is in motion; it's constantly shifting and moving based on that particular set of words and based on the individual. Everyone who visited the museum got to perform in this construction that was changing depending on who they were with or what phrase they were wearing. But the phrase does test the limits of a civil society. [Many] didn't like the fact that I was changing the mechanism of the gaze or identity and race. A number of people just didn't appreciate it. He commandeered those little tags you're supposed to wear in the museum to show you've paid your admission; but instead of bearing the museum's name or logo, some were printed with the legend i can't imagine ever wanting to be white, while the rest bore fragments of that sentence: i can't; imagine; ever wanting; to be; white. It was hard not to be taken aback by the statement. Was it somehow anti-white? Or just—as one critic thought—one of those not-uncommon "exercises in self-gratification and self-promotion ostensibly designed to push social buttons"? As a white person wearing a tag with the whole sentence, one might have reflected that it was probably just the literal truth: One had never had to imagine whiteness as an object of desire. On the other hand, I suppose that someone who isn't white could have enjoyed Martinez's piece as a badge—literally—of his or her happy exemption from envy or resentment, a contentment with one's identity. And what's wrong with that? Martinez, a Mexican American born in the Los Angeles area, told an interviewer in 1994 that he'd never learned Spanish growing up, since his parents would speak only English to him and "Spanish was strictly forbidden by my teachers." His identification was with the majority culture: "The orientation of my world was toward whiteness. Mexican music was not played in my household. Spanish was never spoken. For me, white meant better. It meant privilege." With that in mind, Martinez's ever-changing text-in-motion at the 1993 Whitney Biennial might have been a heartfelt testimony to a sort of conversion experience—actually to a kind of blessed forgetfulness, the liberating inability to imagine one's former sense of marginalization.

Shango

David Driskell, 1970s. Egg tempera and Gouache on paper

Child with Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park

Diane Arbus, 1960s. Clenched in his right hand is a toy replica hand grenade (a Mk 2"Pineapple"), his left hand is held in a claw-like gesture, and his facial expression is maniacal. The contact sheet[1] is "revealing with regards to Arbus' working method. She engages with the boy while moving around him, saying she was trying to find the right angle. The sequence of shots she took depicts a really quite ordinary boy who just shows off for the camera. However, the published single image belies this by concentrating on a freakish posture - an editorial choice typical for Arbus who would invariably pick the most expressive image, thereby frequently suggesting an extreme situation. She captured the loneliness of everyone. "Arbus captures a boy on the cusp of adolescence yet still playing with toys—but the object is a plastic grenade, an object of war," said Hughes. "There's something troubling about him playing solider—the ongoing war efforts were not lost on a little kid in Central Park."

Days of Glory

Dolores Purdy 2010s. Ledger art is a continuation of traditional pictorial art originally painted on buffalo hide robes and tipi covers. Plains Indian artists recorded battles, heroic deeds, ceremonies, and everyday customs as their way of life passed into history Unlike calendar art, or winter counts, executed by Kiowa and Lakota men using simplified symbols to mark key events within the tribe over the course of a year, many ledger drawings are personal narratives heralding individual deeds and honors. The warrior-artists recorded their heroic past and the tumult and transformation of their life in the present. Ledger drawings memorialize the "glory days" of warriors and hunters, when bison were still abundant on the Plains, while other scenes capture moments of individual bravery during battles with the U.S. Army before the tribes were moved onto reservations..

Migrant mother

Dorothea Lange, 1930s, gelatin silver print. One photograph of Christie, "Migrant Mother," became a defining symbol of the Great Depression. The pictures' publication incited an emergency food delivery to the pea picker's camp, although Christie and her family had reportedly moved on before help arrived.

Frederick C. Robie House

Frank Lloyd Wright, Chicago, 1900s. The Robie House creates a clever arrangement of public and private spaces, slowly distancing itself from the street in a series of horizontal planes. By creating overlaps of the planes with this gesture, it allowed for interior space expanded towards the outdoors while still giving the space a level of enclosure. This play on private spaces was requested by the client, where he insisted on the idea of "seeing his neighbors without being seen." The rooms were determined through a modular grid system which was given order with the 4' window mullions. Wright, however, did not use the standard window in his design, but instead used "light screens" which were composed of pieces of clear and colored glass, usually with representations of nature. A Prairie house is low and angular, often with the leaded glass and stone trim associated with Arts and Crafts design. Frank Lloyd Wright Trust curator David Bagnall later told me the house exemplifies the architect's passion for cohesion, "where all aspects, from the interior architecture to furnishings and fixtures, were a unified and harmonious whole."

Every Building on the Sunset Strip

Ed Ruscha, 196os, accordion fold binding Unsigned and inexpensively printed, Ruscha's photography books are antithetical to the traditional limited-edition livre d'artiste, or artist's book On a Sunday morning, Ruscha loaded an automatic camera, looped around every building on the Sunset Strip to expose one mile of night-life fame in broad daylight, and accordion-folded it in book. Now unfold the vice versa panorama and a flnerie-on-wheels immediately begins to stretch out left and right, upon and down the boulevard, but so smooth and silent and straight is the sliding ride over the luster of the printed page that the caressing eye irons out any possible photographic depth in the scenography of Los Angeles. To sweep the Strip further would only wear its legend even thinner. Ruscha's photo-books were a complete anomaly in the art scene of sixties. They later became a brand name once they have been situated by critics and historians in relation to Marcel Duchamp's ready-made and Andy Warhol's serial reproduction techniques (both artists had their first American exhibit, in Los Angeles, in 1962 when Ruscha published his initial Twenty-Six Gasoline Stations) as well as the aestheticizing of everyday architecture with Robert Venturi's 1972 Learning from Las Vegas. They also troubled the conventions of artist's books by using offset printing to develop "a mass-production of a higher order," and more importantly, freed the double-bind between book and photograph in which one was either the commentary, or the illustration of the other.. Their banal subject matter and documentary style are indebted to the remarkable pictures of signs and vernacular architecture that American photographer Walker Evans made in the 1930s, but their deadpan, cool aesthetic is radically different. While each book chronicles an aspect of Los Angeles or the artist's round-trip drives between LA and Oklahoma, their use of photography as a form of map-making or topographical study signals a conceptual, rather than documentary, thrust. Early in the development of both Minimal and Conceptual art, the linguistic phrase as instruction or directive became paramount: the idea was primary and its execution could be by anyone who followed directions. This paradigm displaced the role of the artist from a kind of benighted savage to cool producer, and no artist commented more sharply on this new "informational" style than the West Coast painter Ed Ruscha, whose Pop-inflected canvases were often of resonant or humorous words such as Flash or Oof rendered in cartoonish yet formally precise typefaces floating on monochromatic backgrounds.Ruscha's books are similarly head-scratching fulfillments of their titles. First came Twentysix Gasoline Stations (1962), as blank as an instructional manual and offering a serial Warholian accounting of the most flatfooted-looking snapshots of banal roadside filling stations imaginable. The photographs were not the art, and it was not a luxurious livre d'artiste. Its meaning lay somewhere in the puzzled response of the reader thumbing through it and the circuitous, even futile route that it took through the culture. As Ruscha himself kidded, "My books end up in the trash." Every Building on the Sunset Strip (a detail of its 25 foot long span seen here, in its plexiglas exhibition case) is-like a row of bricks placed on the floor by sculptor Carl Andre-a model of "one thing after another" Minimalism as well as a readymade chance arrangement (the strip itself) of the artist's beloved vernacular architectural eyesores

Manufacturing #17

Edward Burtynsky, Deda Chicken Processing Plant, Jilin Province China, 2000s Universally termed 'industrial landscapes', Edward Burtynsky's photographs are rooted in the complex, symbiotic and, at times, destructive relationship we have with the earth. In depicting his subjects, Burtynsky balances an exacting, documentarian objectivity with a breathtakingly finessed beauty. His oversized works, whose subjects include quarries in Vermont, shipyards in China and oil refineries in Canada, have a sense of grandiosity and monumentality. There is an initial visual appeal of vibrant colors, details and scale; however, on closer inspection, the environmental dilemma unfolds. They are introspective and meditative, capturing a 'contemplative moment' where landscapes provide visual and emotional resonance.

The Crossing 1

Enrique Chagoya, 1990s, acrylic and oil on paper Clad in a Pilgrim's tall buckled hat, Superman opens his shirt to expose his emblem-covered chest. Facing him is Tlaloc, the Aztec god of rain. Quetzalcoatl, the Plumed Serpent whom the Aztecs likely believed had arrived on their shores in the form of Spanish conquistador Hernan Cortes, hovers overhead in a flying saucer straight out of the Jetsons, bringing new meaning to the word "alien." In "Crossing I" (1994), he envisions the Aztec warrior god Tlaloc confronting Superman, who strips away a pilgrim outfit, rather than his Clark Kent disguise, to reveal his true identity. A tiny flying saucer with Aztecs aboard hovers in the background, evoking the cultures' alienation from one another as galactic, not merely cognitive. "It's an expression of my own personal frustrations or a way to exercise my anxieties about the world today,

Casablanca Sideboard

Ettore Sottsass, 1980s, Wood and plastic laminate, made by Memphis In 1980, Ettore Sottsass, Jr., one of the senior Italian designers of the time, founded the Milan design cooperative Memphis with two colleagues, Andrea Branzi and Allesandro Mendini. Memphis pieces, such as the "Casablanca" cabinet displayed here, were self-consciously flamboyant riffs on the postmodern design then in vogue. Although the cooperative lasted only for five years, its risky exuberance expanded the boundaries of modern furniture and continues to influence designers today. Memphis doesn't give away or solve anything. It seduces by virtue of its enigmatic and contradictory qualities. The international design group Memphis was founded in Milan by Ettore Sottsass. The group challenged modernist dogmas about functionalism and rationalism by creating boldly colored and patterned decorative arts and furniture that were intended to be both flashy and faddish. The whole Memphis idea is oriented toward a sensory concentration based on instability, on provisionl representation of provisional states and of events and signs that fade.

Broadacre City Project

Frank Lloyd Wright, 1930s. This new democratic city, as envisioned by Wright, would take advantage of modern technology and communications to decentralize the old city and create an environment in which the individual would flourish. More than 55 years have passed since the first public exhibition of the Broadacre City models. The large (12′ x 12′) model of Broadacre City and ten collateral models made their first appearance as the centerpiece of a National Alliance of Arts and Industry Exposition at Rockefeller Center on April 14, 1935. Tafel accompanied the model to New York City where more than 50,000 people examined Wright's plans for a new American city. Thus, in Broadacre City, Wright set about to provide, on a community scale, for the expression of democratic ideas as he saw them. His city would provide the space, freedom and beauty necessary for the growth of the individual. In place of absentee ownership, Broadacre City proposed individual ownership of one's home, farm and place of employment. In place of corporate ownership, Broadacre City proposed public ownership of the utilities of common necessity: power, transportation, mediums of exchange. Instead of "rent on land, money, and ideas" determining the course of development of the city, Broadacre City proposed that the community and the artist have a greater role in the design of the built environment. "They would be especially suited in plan and outline to the ground, where they would make more of gardens and fields and nearby woods than now, insuring perpetual unity in variety .... All that Broadacre houses ask of society is that they be genuinely Democratic, and of all government that it be strictly impersonal. This city of the future does, however, ask for a quality of thought and a kind of thinking on the part of the citizen that organic architecture alone at the present time represents or seems to understand ... a new reality in our way of living and building, an environment in our democracy." Wright's vision was as much political as it was aesthetic—and it reflected the progressive ideals of a 1930s America, crippled by the Great Depression. For some, a radical restructuring of society seemed like the only way out of the massive economic hole engulfing the country.But as Lapping points out, Broadacre City wasn't exactly a democratic vision. While it may have imagined abolishing landlords and providing plenty of opportunities for direct democracy, it was the local architects—the "essential interpreters of America's humanity" as Wright called them—who ultimately had the last word on what was permitted in each development. These unelected designers would have a kind of control that seemed to be completely at odds with Wright's populist rhetoric. Wright wasn't content in simply micromanaging the design of his buildings. He was known to meticulously arrange furniture in some of the private residences he built and demand that nothing be moved once he was gone. There are even stories that Wright would dictate which dress a woman was supposed to wear in her home. (Important)

Mining the Museum

Fred Wilson, 1990s Working with objects in the collection of the MHS, Wilson unsettled the museum's comfortably white, upper-class narrative by juxtaposing silver repoussé vessels and elegant 19th-century armchairs with slave shackles and a whipping post. Texts, spotlights, recorded texts, and objects traditionally consigned to storage drew attention to the local histories of blacks and Native Americans, effectively unmaking the familiar museological narrative as a narrow ideological project. What is a museum anyway? Or a curator for that matter? And what is an "audience"? Do museums have the corner on historical "Truths"? Mining the Museum,an installation by Fred Wilson, provided an opportunity to reflect on these questions. Wilson's "museums" underscored the fact that history is an act of interpre- tation and that contemporary events are part of its flux. His work has provided a savvy and thought-provoking critique of the museum environment. Mining the Museum employed display techniques that are sec- ond nature to most curators: artifacts, labels, selective lighting, slide projections, and sound effects. But they were used to explore our "reading" of historical truth through sometimes startling jux- tapositions of objects representing vastly different historical "facts," revealing stereotypes and contrasting power and power- lessness.

Gran reticularea

Gego, 1960s, stainless steel Venezuelan artist The ability to use line to define space, play with the definition of sculpture, line and material The work is visually ephemeral, the line between drawing and etching and textiles Relationship between 2d and 3d

Two Undiscovered Amerindians Visit the West

Guillermo Gomez-Pena & Coco Fusco 1992 In March 1992, performance artist and MacArthur Fellow, Guillermo Gómez-Peña and writer/artist Coco Fusco locked themselves in a cage. Presenting themselves as aboriginal inhabitants of an island off the gulf of Mexico that was overlooked by Columbus, their spectacle provided a thorn in the side of postcolonial angst. Enacting rituals of "authentic" daily life such as writing on a laptop computer, watching TV, making voodoo dolls, and pacing the cage garbed in Converse high-tops, raffia skirts, plastic beads, and a wrestler's mask, the two "Amerindians" rendered a hybrid pseudo primitivism that struck a nerve. Interested members of the audience could pay for dances, stories, and Polaroids. Guilt, molestation, confusion, and letters to the humane society were among audience responses. Nearly half the visitors that saw the cage in Irvine, London, Madrid, Minneapolis, and the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. believed that the two were real captives, true natives somehow tainted by the detritus of technology and popular culture. We were trying to blast this myth that the non-Western Other exists in a time and place that is completely untouched by western civilization or that in order to be authentic one would have to be devoid of characteristics associated with the West. It's reasonable to say that non-Western cultures have a better understanding of Western civilization than Western civilization has of other cultures.

What you see is what you see (Stella)

Hank Willis Thomas, 2016 Appropriate Frank Stella, Marrakech, 1964,

Moma Poll

Hans Haacke， 1970， gallery installation In 1970 Hans Haacke proposed a work for the exhibition entitled Information to be held at the Museum of Modern Art in New York (an exhibition meant to be an overview of current younger artists), according to which the visitors would be asked to vote on a current socio-political issue. The proposal was accepted, and Haacke prepared his installation, entitled MoMA Poll, but did not hand in the specific question until right before the opening of the show. His query asked, "Would the fact that Governor Rockefeller has not denounced President Nixon's Indochina Policy be a reason for your not voting for him in November?" Visitors were asked to deposit their answers in the appropriate one of two transparent Plexiglas ballot boxes. At the end of the exhibition, there were approximately twice as many Yes ballots as No ballots. Haacke's question commented directly on the involvements of a major donor and board member at MOMA, Nelson Rockefeller. This installation is an early example of what in the art world came to be known as institutional critique. There is nothing new about artists adopting overt political agendas, but this protest was distinctive for its ambition to make art politically useful by criticizing the institutions of art. Haacke's inquiry, alluding to the USA's covert bombing of Cambodia, was inflammatory enough, yet his direct reference to Nelson Rockefeller, the Republican governor of New York and MoMA trustee, demonstrated how contemporary art was beginning to turn against the bodies that nurtured it, in a movement known today as Institutional Critique.

Photograph of Pollock at work

Hans Namuth, East Hampton, New York, 1950 In the decades following World War II, a new artistic vanguard emerged, particularly in New York, that introduced radical new directions in art. The war and its aftermath were at the underpinnings of the movement that became known as Abstract Expressionism. Jackson Pollock, among other Abstract Expressionists, anxiously aware of human irrationality and vulnerability, expressed their concerns in an abstract art that chronicled the ardor and exigencies of modern life. By the mid 1940s, Jackson Pollock introduced his famous 'drip paintings', which represent one of the most original bodies of work of the century, and forever altered the course of American art. At times the new art forms could suggest the life-force in nature itself, at others they could evoke man's entrapment - in the body, in the anxious mind, and in the newly frightening modern world. To produce in Jackson Pollock's 'action painting', most of his canvases were either set on the floor, or laid out against a wall, rather than being fixed to an easel. From there, Jackson Pollock used a style where he would allow the paint to drip from the paint can. Instead of using the traditional paint brush, he would add depth to his images using knives, trowels, or sticks. This form of painting, had similar ties to the Surreal movement, in that it had a direct relation to the artist's emotions, expression, and mood, and showcased their feeling behind the pieces they designed.

Parangole: "I embody revolt"

Helio Oiticia, 1960s, mixed media A prominent figure in the modernist Brazilian avant-garde of the 1950s and '60s. Oiticica's Parangoles (1964-8), multicolored versions of carnival costumes, were the product of time spent living among the inhabitants of favelas in Rio de Janeiro. Samba, like Rio's favelas, was (and, to an extent, still is) stigmatized by the higher Brazilian society; it was relegated to the country's lower classes. He was nevertheless fascinated by Mangueira's culture, fashion, and architecture. The favela triggered a cultural awakening in Oiticica—it had a liberating effect on his schematic style. Samba, like Rio's favelas, was (and, to an extent, still is) stigmatized by the higher Brazilian society; it was relegated to the country's lower classes. He was nevertheless fascinated by Mangueira's culture, fashion, and architecture. The favela triggered a cultural awakening in Oiticica—it had a liberating effect on his schematic style.

Tales of the Orishas

Hugo Canuto, 1980s Brazil, 2017. Designer Hugo Canuto creates a comic book inspired by the mythology of the Orishas, gods and goddesses worshiped in Afro Brazilian religions like Candomblé and Umbanda. In "Tales of the Orishas", these divine entities have to face the most intriguing adventures and challenges in order to fulfill their great duty: bringing peace and justice to their community. This is one of the first time that Brazilian Orishas have been represented in a comic book. This is one of the first time Brazilian Orishas have been represented in pop culture as powerful superheroes worthy of admiration.

Pictures from the Street

Joachim Schmid, 1988-2007, c-print Schmid has already compiled these found photographs into a number of projects and books. Pictures from the Street (1982-2012) is a series of film shots found by chance on the street. Other People's Photographs (2008-2011) is a series of 96 different books that explore patterns and themes in what amateur photographers are posting every day to sites such as Flickr. By gathering the world's photographic rejects and mounting them on gallery walls, Schmid's work asks us to reconsider the so-called photographic canon, which depends on weighty notions of history, authenticity, and authorship. Instead, one of his earliest and longest-running projects, Pictures from the Street (1982-2012), consists of authorless photographs and remnants encountered by chance and gathered over 30 years of wandering city streets. The reference here to the tradition of street photography is intentional, but instead of selecting his moments from behind a lens, he picks them up off the street. Discarded, lost, or torn, these photographs are compelling because of the mystery behind them. Even under torture, Schmid quips, he would be unable to recount their stories (which, incidentally, puts him on par with his audience, a fact that he relishes). He is compelled instead by a photograph's worn folds, as if lovingly carried in a wallet; or another's violent tears, signaling perhaps a tumultuous end to an emotional relationship. These traces of human action are, for Schmid, the most revealing, and reflect the role that photography plays in everyday life.

Four Generations

Jon Corbett, 2010s In the case of Jon Corbett's Four Generations, tradition may be embedded in the pixels themselves. This series of family portraits is made up of digital images of beads arranged in a spiral on a screen, with faces slowly appearing and disappearing as beads are added and subtracted in a mesmerizing rhythm. Pixels on a computer screen are generally laid out in a grid, but Garneau says that the rectangular grid has an oppressive history as a tool of the European surveyors who broke up Native settlements in the 19th century. So instead, the artist has laid the beads out in a spiral, a more meaningful form in indigenous cultures. The work echoes Native beadwork, Garneau says, while finding a novel way "to get past the grid that is the screen.

One and Three Chairs

Joseph Kosuth, 1960 Wood folding chair, mounted photograph of a chair, and mounted photographic enlargement of the dictionary definition of "chair", In One and Three Chairs, Joseph Kosuth represents one chair three ways: as a manufactured chair, as a photograph, and as a copy of a dictionary entry for the word "chair." The installation is thus composed of an object, an image, and words. Kosuth didn't make the chair, take the photograph, or write the definition; he selected and assembled them together. But is this art? And which representation of the chair is most "accurate"? These open-ended questions are exactly what Kosuth wanted us to think about when he said that "art is making meaning." By assembling these three alternative representations, Kosuth turns a simple wooden chair into an object of debate and even consternation, a platform for exploring new meanings. For the Minimalists, art's role was no longer to render scenes of nature, spirituality, or humanity, as had been central to Western art since before the Renaissance, or even to celebrate the artist's vision and hand as had been the case with Abstract Expressionism. The credo of Minimalist art was "what you see is what you see." With these pure forms, art was emptied of all other meaning. It was as if the word "sculpture" needed quotation marks. It certainly strained credulity to imagine an industrially-fabricated object made from lacquered, galvanized iron as the equal to the historic sculptural processes such as carved marble or cast bronze produced by Donatello or Bernini. In the case of One and Three Chairs, the central idea was to explore the nature of representation itself. We know instinctively what a "chair" is, but how is it that we actually conceive of and communicate that concept? Kosuth presents us with a photograph of a chair, an actual chair, and its linguistic or language-based description. All three of these could be interpreted as representations of the same chair (the "one" chair of the title), and yet they are not the same. They each have distinct properties: in actuality, the viewer is confronted with "three" chairs, each represented and experienced—read—in different ways. Kosuth was influenced by new theories of language and signification that had emerged in the early twentieth century, particularly semiotics—the study of the meaning of signs (words or symbols used to communicated information). Semiotics grew out of the science of linguistics, which looks at how language structures meaning. However, the field of semiotics had a broader set of goals: it sought to explore how both linguistic and image-based forms of communication shaped larger social and cultural structures.

Oil and sugar

Kader Attia, 2000s -harnesses layered meanings through the marriage of simple and familiar materials, each selected for the distinct sensual/formal and cultural/political significations it embodies. His camera records in real time a close-up view of crystalline cubes of sugar stacked like bricks on a silver platter. Motor oil is poured onto the structure they form, and as the white solid absorbs the black liquid, it crumbles and pools in the platter. He describes the form of the white cube as "the core symbol of art, of the space of art, of the institution." Drenched in oil and rendered black, the structure evokes the Kaaba, the Islamic holy site circled by pilgrims on their annual Hajj to Mecca. Once dissolved by oil, it calls to mind the ongoing destruction and violence sparked by religious and political difference and competition for fossil fuel resources in the Middle East.

A Subtlety or the Marvelous Sugar Baby

Kara Walker, 2010s an Homage to the unpaid and overworked Artisans who have refined our Sweet tastes from the cane fields to the Kitchens of the New World on the Occasion of the demolition of the Domino Sugar Refining Plant Exhibited at the decaying Domino Sugar Factory in Brooklyn from May to July 2014, Walker's monumental installation, organized on the occasion of the demolition of the Refining Plant,7 is dedicated to "the unpaid and overworked artisans who have refined our sweet tastes from the cane fields to the kitchens of the New World." The exhibit consists of a gigantic West Indian, African, or African American mammy-sphinx, who could evoke any part of the global plantation South, made out of eight tons of confectionery sugar coated over a foam structure, and of life-size sculptures made out of molasses-covered resin.

Falling Water Bear Run, Penn. Frank Lloyd Wright 1930s.

Kaufmann let Wright know that he had several civic architectural projects in mind for him. this delicate synthesis of nature and the built environment probably counts as the main reason why Fallingwater is such a well-loved work. The contouring of the house into cantilevered ledges responds so sympathetically to the rock strata of the stream banks that it does make Bear Run a more wondrous landscape than it had been before. Wright further emphasizes the connection with nature by liberal use of glass; the house has no walls facing the falls, only a central stone core for the fireplaces and stone columns. This provides elongated vistas leading the eye out to the horizon and the woods. Vincent Scully has pointed out that this reflects "an image of Modern man caught up in constant change and flow, holding on...to whatever seems solid but no longer regarding himself as the center of the world." Wright is famous for pushing the architectural envelope for dramatic effect. At Fallingwater, he appears to be more concerned with responding to the European Modernist design that he had in part inspired—but that had since eclipsed him. In effect, he set out to beat the Europeans at their own game, using elements of their idiom.

Decorative Char

Kenojuak Ashevak, 2000s, Stone cut with stencil Kenojuak Ashevak was a celebrated Canadian Inuit artist. Her drawings and prints, comprised of simple, stylized motifs and coded symbols of Inuit culture and folklore, brought her international acclaim. "There is no word for art," she once said. "We say it is to transfer something from the real to the unreal. I am an owl, and I am a happy owl. I like to make people happy and everything happy. I am the light of happiness and I am a dancing owl." In addition to her best-known works, she also maintained a diverse practice which included soapstone carving, textiles, and design. Born on October 3, 1927 in the Inuit camp of Ikirasaq in Northwest Canada, Ashevak became regarded as a notable pioneer of Modern Inuit art, with her art becoming diffused into Canadian culture through its reproductions on postage stamps, currency, and exhibits in national museums. She was inducted in Canada's Walk of Fame in 2001 before her death on January 8, 2013 on Dorset Island, Canada at the age of 85. Established in 1959, West Baffin Eskimo Cooperative has enjoyed an international reputation for the exquisite prints, drawings and carvings created by its Inuit artist members. In addition to operation of the Kinngait Studios in Cape Dorset, the cooperative maintains a Toronto office, Dorset Fine Arts, which is responsible for interfacing with galleries, museums, cultural professionals, Inuit art enthusiasts and the art market globally. The role of West Baffin Eskimo Cooperative has significantly expanded to include communications, promotion, advocacy, government relations and special projects as related to the Inuit art of Cape Dorset. The cooperative is equally engaged with the business of art sales as it is with functioning as a resource centre and archive while at the same time developing meaningful and ongoing relationships with a variety of organizations across Canada, the United States and Europe.

DMZ, 1980

Kim Yongtae, 朝鲜半岛一分为二，慰安妇。 照片里面是美国大兵和他们和韩国慰安妇的孩子。 During their research the two artists came across propaganda flyers created by the two Koreas on a visit to the DMZ Museum in Goseong, Gyeonggi Province. The museum provided pictures of the flyers to them and the artists then reprinted them and formed a collage in the shape of the Korean Peninsula. During the Korean War, between 50 million and 80 million political propaganda flyers were distributed every month from South to North and vice versa. According to Defense Ministry statistics, the number is about 4 billion. In the collage the artists placed North Korea's flyers to the south of the 38th parallel and South Korea's to the north. The same prints will be used for theBiennale this year but the shape of the collage has changed to the letters DMZ, which are nine meters long in total. Similar to the 2011 version, the letters are divided into two parts and South Korea's flyers are placed on the upper half and North Korea's on the lower half. With the DMZ—the symbol of the ideological conflict— in the middle, audiences might hear the echo of the unilateral voices of two Koreas. Inter-Korean tensions are now r more heightened than ever, just as if we were walking on the thin ice. The regime in the North keeps making threatening remarks about nuclear tests and missile launches. This only confirms the notion in the international society that Korea is a volatile region where South and North are at loggerheads. The only divided country in the world, Korea remains precarious in the state of armistice. Korea is a country with a demarcation line. It is a country divided by the line called the "demilitarized zone (DMZ)," which stretches 155 miles (248km) from Gimpo to Gosung; in other words, a country where the DMZ is a reality; a country where an enormous amount of money is appropriated for defense spending so that we can point guns at each other; and a country on the brink of war because of this demarcation line.

Xango Priestess & Altar

Late 20th in Brazil

The High Court

Le Corbusier, from Oeuvre Complete， 1960 e High Court is a linear block with the main facade toward the piazza. It has a rhythmic arcade created by a parasol-like roof, which shades the entire building. Keeping in view the special dignity of the judges, Le Corbusier created a special entrance for them through a high portico resting on three giant pylons painted in bright colours.Very much in the tradition of the Buland Darwaza of Fatehpur-Sikri, this grand entrance with its awesome scale, is intended to manifest the Majesty of the Law to all who enter. Juxtaposed between the main courtroom of the Chief Justice and eight smaller courts, is a great entrance hall. Its scale--especially the height -- is experienced most intensely while walking up the ramp. The symbolism of providing an "umbrella of shelter" of law to the ordinary citizen is most vividly manifested here. The continuity of the concrete piazza running into this space establishes a unique site and structural unity of the structure with the ground plane.The massive concrete pylons representing again the "Majesty of Law" are painted in bright primary colours and visually punctuate the otherwise rhythmic facade of the High Court. The rear side of this ceremonial entrance for the judges is a working entrance and a large car park at a sunken level. The massive piers and the blank end walls have interesting cut-outs and niches, to establish a playful connection with the human scale. Having visited India for the first time, Le Corbusier was greatly discouraged by the local climate and dirt. He agreed to come twice a year and perform general management over construction. A particular feature of Le Corbusier's style is the use of concrete and reinforced con-crete. This material was gaining popularity in the early 20 th century. Note that concrete and cement were expensive in India and thus, many buildings in Chandigarh had to be built of brick, despite Le Corbusier's plan.

Bicho

Lygia Clark, 1960s, aluminum she devised her first "proposition" for an "act" to be carried out by a "participant. The work is meant to be handled and held. To led the audience discover its texture, sharpness, space, and line. Breaks free from the plane, hinges, fold, flatten In 1951, abstract art took on new meaning and form in Brazil, largely through the impact of a retrospective of the Bauhaus-trained artist Max Bill in São Paulo and the first São Paulo biennale. Throughout the 1950s, Bill's influence in Brazil led to the development of concrete art, a kind of abstract art, which championed universal subjects like order and rationality, founded on objectivity and science.Together with Helio Oiticica and other artists from Rio de Janeiro, however, Clark articulated her ideas about this kind of abstraction in the 1959 "Neo-Concrete Manifesto." In it, the artists declared their break from the tenets of concrete art with its systematic approach to abstraction. Clark, on the other hand, sought a freer and more organic interpretation of geometric abstraction, effectively eliminating the demarcation between two-dimensional and three-dimensional form. Whereas traditional sculpture hides its structural support, Clark instead focuses on it, by drawing attention to the hinges that bind the work together, and to the empty spaces created in between these folded spaces. As seen in Bicho, the straight-edged and round shapes recall skeletal forms while the hinges function as spinal columns. Even the name, Critter, recalls natural life, as if the work were a living creature meant to be animated - or better yet mutated—by the participant. Clark made these sculptures to be participatory, and therefore variable. Created as a series, there are around seventy Bichos in total. She challenged not only the idea that sculpture is fixed, but also that there is only one way to view or experience it. The sculptures are fundamentally unstable—both literally and metaphorically. They have no front or back, no inside or outside, no left or right. In this way, they have no author, since each participant creates a different experience of Bicho. Different from performance art however, these sculptures do not create spectacle, but rather invite participation.

Walking

Lygia Clark, 1960s, scissors and paper Mobius strip is an enclosed surface with only one loop. Walking(Caminhando) is a pivotal work for Clark, suggesting the dematerialization of the art object and the turn towards an art based in process and participation. The artist invited participants to cut a Möbius strip along its length to the thinnest width possible without breaking it. She invited viewers to construct their own Möbius strip out of paper and glue, then keep cutting along its length until the band narrowed to nothing. This arts-and-crafts project seemed like a reasonable starting point for a life in art. At first glance, Lygia Clark's relationship to performance seems a simple matter: when she moved from painting and sculpture to what she called her participatory "proposições" (propositions) of the mid-1960s, and when she started her "corpo coletivo" (collective body) experiments in the 1970s，she adamantly refused to allow these works to be called performance art. Others besides Clark differentiated her work from performance and body art. Her singularity in using propositions to assemble and mobilize bodies, participants, and live action, her "unprecedented orientation for the issues of her time," were obvious to those following the development of her practices. Please use the sharing tools found via the share button at the top or side of articles. "'Caminhando' has all the possibilities connected to action itself. It allows choice, the unpredictable, and the transformation of a virtual into a concrete event." That "choice" presents itself as a series of limited decisions: to cut down the centre, or at the side, or gradually guide the scissors left to right?

Fountain

Marcel Duchamp, 1910s, Dada Readymade Whether Mr Mutt with his own hands made the fountain or not has no importance. He CHOSE it. He took an ordinary article of life, placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view—created a new thought for that object." Wood, who had followed Duchamp's work closely, recognized the groundbreaking power of the work. Fountain is Duchamp's most notorious Readymade which he presented for exhibition to the 1917 Society of Independent Artists under the pseudonym R. Mutt. Despite its ordinary, functional and mundane appearance, Fountain has been described as one of the most influential art works of the 20th century. Arturo Schwarz suggests that the creation of a Readymade is more complex than just choosing and signing an everyday object (Schwarz, 2008, p.125). He states that the objects were decontextualized and displaced by changing the angle from which they are viewed and by isolating, divorcing or removing them from their normal surroundings. The addition of a title or renaming is crucial, 'displacement from the ordinary logical context was achieved by renaming the object, the new title having no obvious relationship to the object as ordinarily understood', (Schwarz, 2008, p.125). There are a set of manoeuvres that separate and distinguish the everyday object from its art counterpart. Duchamp purchased the urinal from a plumbing supplier at 118 Fifth Avenue, New York (J.L. Mott Ironwork Company). By turning it on its side and placing it on a pedestal, he altered the viewer's perception of this familiar manufactured object. With his signature, he undermined traditional notions of craftsmanship and authorship, and distorted conventional rules regarding the value and definition of art. He also challenged the way art galleries and institutions deemed it their prerogative to decide what art was and was not. Duchamp was a founder and promoter of the newly established Society of Independent Artists. The constitution stipulated that they were bound to accept all members' submitted artworks, however they made an exception for Fountain, believing it to be indecent and unable to be considered art. Duchamp purposely wanted to test people's beliefs about art, choosing a urinal to deliberately stir controversy and outrage 'For Duchamp, the artist cannot be responsible for what becomes of the artwork - how it may be interpreted or understood, whether it is appreciated or not - once it is sent out into the world, not unlike the idea that a medium such as paint or marble is not responsible for a painting or sculpture produced out of its materials he also reveals the importance of the viewer's role in the function of conceptual artwork

The Bowery in Two Inadequate Descriptive Systems

Martha Rosler, 1974-75 By addressing questions of how to represent dimensions of social class yet refusing the visual and verbal tropes of vagrancy and poverty, this work points to the tendency of documentary photography to generalize, criminalize, or victimize. By showing us a doorway that a homeless person may have adopted for shelter or an empty whiskey bottle paired with a series of vernacular terms related to alcoholism, Rosler highlights what she calls the "poverty of representation" offered by the "two inadequate descriptive systems" of the work's title. The images are of the open and shuttered stores, bank façades, doss houses, artists' lofts, and debris of the Bowery, which was, at the time, an infamous haunt of alcoholics and vagrants. The accompanying photos of texts group together words associated with drunkenness in playful and poetic ways. By installing these panels together, Rosler questioned the role of representation in documentary photography, focusing instead on dichotomies of image and text, absence and emptiness, as well as on the political dimensions of both photography and habitation.

Appliances

Michele de Lucchi, 1970s, lacquered wood prototypes produced for the Triennial di Milano He organized Produzione Privada around seven workshops. Five workshops are dedicated to a specific material: glass, wood, metal, marble, ceramics, and porcelain. And two workshops are dedicated to De Lucchi's two design concepts: Ready Made-an approach that states that contemporary design does not invent, but assembles; and Minimal Machine-a design approach in which the process of creation and production happen simultaneously. De Lucchi began his design revolution in 1980 by creating common appliances--toasters, coffee grinders, teapots, mixers, hair dryers, lamps--in wild shapes and colors. With these experiments, he explained, he attempted to ''see if it was possible to mix up-to-date technological objects with nontechnical images, to manipulate form and colors with a freedom we don`t have. ''What I`m trying to do is show that product design can be more aggressive and avant-garde than painting, sculpture and other academic art. ''I`m trying to create those images representing the `80s. And to create images able to give a view of the future.

Sierra Leone Landscape

Pascale Marthine tayou 2010 Appropriate Malevich's Blacksquare 批判了发达国家在获取可可豆时用了和奴隶制无异的对黑人(童工)的剥削，(通常是人贩子手下的)孩子们需要冒着生命危险爬几米高的可可树，用刀具把果实劈下来，同时无法获得任何形式补偿(没有薪水、没有生存保障) "it elicits the notorious working conditions long documented on regional cacao plantations, which depend on child labor (illegally procured through child trafficking) and coerced and indentured forms of labor indistinguishable from slavery" - reading 材料：木板、可可粉、咖啡粉 可可豆采收行业被称为 "modern slavery" Pascale Marthine Tayou的作品被指出神似法国公司" Lu: Le Petit Écolier"的巧克力饼干。 " Like the white milkiness of Swiss alpine cows and cowgirls, Lu's "innocent" schoolboy represents the whiting out of chocolate—a "refinement" of the raw material and its raw past." -reading "Whiting out of chocolate"：即 将原材料加工至可以食用，同时掩盖掉该原材料(可可豆)采摘时花费的人力 该饼干公司创立于法国当时的奴隶制中心。Marthine Tayou在他的作品Sierra Leone Landscape中为了讽刺白人尝试把非洲工人的血汗经历从他们的饼干(享受饼干的过程)中抹去的行为，所以把画框做成了图中饼干的样子。

Le Corbusier and Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru

Photo, India, 1955 Construction of a new capital of Punjab, the city of the future, was initiated by Jawaha-rlal Nehru, the prime minister, who invited the major architect of modernity, Le Corbusier (Charles-Édouard Jeanneret-Gris) to implement this architectural miracle. As Nehru said, "in a country like India... we hold fast to traditions... but no tradition which makes you a prisoner of your mind or body is ever good" Nehru viewed the future independent India as a modern socialist state that assimilat-ed the best from its own past and the past of other countries, first and foremost — Europe-an countries, and at the same time, abandoned all past mistakes and sins, such as national and religious discord, caste system and untouchability.

Case Study House #21/ The Bailey House

Pierre Koening, 1950s. Koenig worked for several years on the steel house prototype. The challenge was to find a means of using steel that was both standardized enough to be economical, and at the same time of the quality and finish that would be desirable in a luxury family home. The Bailey House represents the culmination of this research. From the deceptively simple geometry to the perfect detailing of joints, the house was a kind of manifesto for modern living. The ambience of the finished house is defined by water, which surrounds it more like a close fitting garment than a defensive moat. Koenig's design introduces a new concept of water as both a structural and a landscape element, linking the house to the landscape rather than separating it. The water reflects and amplifies the clean lines of the structure while adding serenity and aesthetic beauty. A house built for man? The designer said woman is part of the ornament.

Seattle Public Library, OMA, 2000, Seattle, Washington

Rem Koolhaas and OMA Modern but also a form of erasion and even denial of colonial history through spaceless building. Non-site specific, can be placed whenever you want Although the library is an unusual shape from the outside, the architects' philosophy was to let the building's required functions dictate what it should look like, rather than imposing a structure and making the functions conform to that. Instead of its current ambiguous flexibility, the library could cultivate a more refined approach by organizing itself into spatial compartments, each dedicated to, and equipped for, specific duties. Tailored flexibility remains possible within each compartment, but without the threat of one section hindering the others. Our first operation was to "comb" and consolidate the library's apparently ungovernable proliferation of programs and media. By combining like with like, we identified programmatic clusters: five of stability and four of instability.

"Lagos" in Mutation

Rem Koolhaas, 2000, He founded oMA in 1975. Both present the marginal voices within the nation-state that didn't, or couldn't, participate in its visions of a collective future. People that are working towards a future they have no idea constructing, people that are erased. Anyways, development is also an erasion. Erasion of colonial history, even people who were building them, erasion of exploitation and extraction that still exist nowadays.

A Home Owners' Loan Corporation, 1936 "security map" of Philadelphia

Researchers have consistently argued that HOLC caused redlining and disinvestment in U.S. cities by sharing its color-coded maps. Geographic information systems and spatial statistical models were used to analyze address-level mortgage data from Philadelphia to determine if areas with worse grades actually had less access to residential mortgage credit as a result. Findings indicate that the grades on HOLC's map do not explain differences in lending patterns with the exception of interest rates, which were higher in areas colored red. Archival material and journal articles from the 1930s also reveal that lenders were avoiding areas colored red before HOLC made its maps, that HOLC's maps were not widely distributed, and that lenders had other sources of information about real estate risk levels.

After Walker Evans

Sherrie Levine, 1980s In the late 1970s and early 1980s, a group of artists including Cindy Sherman, Richard Prince, and Sherrie Levine—at the time dubbed the "Pictures" generation—began using photography to examine the strategies and codes of representation. In reshooting Marlboro advertisements, B-movie stills, and even classics of Modernist photography, these artists adopted dual roles as director and spectator. In their manipulated appropriations, these artists were not only exposing and dissembling mass-media fictions, but enacting more complicated scenarios of desire, identification, and loss.In 1981, Levine photographed reproductions of Depression-era photographs by Walker Evans, such as this famous portrait of Allie Mae Burroughs, the wife of an Alabama sharecropper. The series, entitled After Walker Evans, became a landmark of postmodernism, both praised and attacked as a feminist hijacking of patriarchal authority, a critique of the commodification of art, and an elegy on the death of modernism. Far from a high-concept cheap shot, Levine's works from this series tell the story of our perpetually dashed hopes to create meaning, the inability to recapture the past, and our own lost illusions.

Just What Is It That Makes Today's Homes So Different, So Appealing?

Richard Hamilton, 1950s, collage As part of his contribution to the exhibition catalogue Hamilton made a collage called Just what is it that makes today's home's so different, so appealing? (Kunsthalle Tübingen, Zundel Collection) that was also made into a poster. In planning the collage, Hamilton typed a list of categories he planned to incorporate: 'Man, Woman, Food, History, Newpapers, Cinema, Domestic Appliances, Cars, Space, Comics, TV, Telephone, Information' (quoted in Richard Hamilton, 1992, p.149). Imagery that fitted into Hamilton's categories were sourced from a stash of American magazines that McHale had brought back from the United States. He found the work's title in a caption to an illustration in the cast-off trimmings from the magazines. The finished collage presents all the multiple ways of communicating information available at that time, reflecting Hamilton's ironic interest in popular culture and modern technology. It shows a domestic interior complete with armchairs, coffee tables, pot plants and lamps. Such domestic appliances as a hoover, a television showing a woman talking on the phone on its screen, and a tape recorder that would have been considered state of the art in the 1950s now appear extremely out-dated. A framed comic strip on the wall, sandwiched between a traditional nineteenth century portrait and a window onto a movie theatre, also belongs to a passed era. Prophetically in the centre of the work, a crowned FORD motorcar logo alludes to cars; it is a similar size to the head of the muscular man, standing in a body-builder's pose next to it. He holds a giant lollipop bearing the word 'POP' at the level of his groin, pointing towards the semi-naked woman sitting in a ridiculously artificial pose on the sofa opposite. was to throw into the cramped space of a living room some representation of all the objects and ideas crowding into our post-war consciousness: my 'home' would have been incomplete without its token life-force so Adam and Eve struck a pose along with the rest of the gadgetry. The collage had a didactic role in the context of a didactic exhibition, This is Tomorrow, in that it attempted to summarize the various influences that were beginning to shape post-war Britian. We seemed to be taking a course towards a rosy future and our changing, Hi-Tech, world was embraced with a starry-eyed confidence; a surge of optimism which took us into the 1960s. Though clearly an 'interior' there are complications that cause us to doubt the categorisation. The ceiling of the room is a space-age view of Earth. The carpet is a distant view of people on a beach. It is an allegory rather than a representation of a room.

Lovell Health House

Richard Neutra, 1920s Austrian-American modernist Richard Neutra (1892-1970) articulated a peculiar type of therapeutic architecture. Influenced by developments in modern psychology he insisted his designs could cure his clients from neuroses. His vision became popular on the American west coast and particularly within Hollywood, caught as it was in the slipstream of Freud's psychoanalysis. Although slightly silly at times, and failing miserably at curing neuroses, Neutra's eclectic modernism offers important insights into the relationship between architecture and psychology. The house was called Lovell Health House for a reason. It contains an open-air fitness suite, rooms for sunbathing and sleeping out in the open, and various dietary and therapeutic services. Upon its completion an organized tour attracted a huge crowd. Around 15.000 visitors made their way through the house to marvel at the modernity of it all. Yet most of them were unable to see how anyone could actually live in it. After the First World War, there was a growing sentiment that the ways of the past had failed the general public in the most egregious way. This sentiment manifested itself in the arts by a complete departure from the time-specific and location-specific styles of the past and the creation of the new International Style. In this new style, there are no ties to history and an emphasis on technology. But I find the implications for health to be especially compelling. Whether 'miasma' or germs or general clutter, many believed cities and the urban way of life to be the root of disease and other health issues. As a result, the International Style aspired towards one-family homes set far away from the hustle and bustle, with no built-in storage for clutter to accumulate, huge windows to maximize light in the interior-their response to all the ills of historical architecture. Many European architects brought some of this ideology to the United States, one such designer being Richard Neutra. Neutra worked briefly with Frank Lloyd Wright before establishing his career in Southern California, working for "Bohemian" patrons concerned with the connection between their health and living spaces before it was in the mainstream consciousness.

Kaufmann House

Richard Neutra, 1940s. 10 years after the design of Fallingwater by Frank Lloyd Wright in Bear Run, Pennsylvania, the Kaufmann's were looking for a residence that could be used to escape the cold winters of the northeast, which would primarily be used during January. Neutra employed a more modernist and international style approach using glass, steel, and some stone in the design. The design of the house is quite simplistic; at the center of the house is the living room and the dining room that is the heart of the house and the family activity. The rest of the house branches out like a pinwheel in each of the cardinal directions. From the center of the house each wing that branches out has its own specific function; however, the most important aspects of the house are oriented east/west while the supporting features are oriented north/south. Swimming pool created balance. The flow from interior to exterior space is not simply a spatial condition rather it is an issue of materiality that creates the sinuous experience. The glass and steel make the house light, airy, and open, but it is the use of stone that solidifies the houses contextual relationship. The light colored, dry set stone, what Neutra calls "Utah buff," brings out the qualities of the glass and steel, but it also blends into the earthy tones of the surrounding landscape of the stone, mountains, and trees.

Chuey House

Richard Neutra, 1950s. The International-style home was designed for poet Josephine Ain Chuey and features floor-to-ceiling glazing with expansive views of both the canyon and the Los Angeles basin. "I would say that in reality space is not all abstract. Indeed, it is vibrating life itself. Were this not so, it wouldn't stimulate all our senses."

Factum I and Factum II

Robert Rauschenberg, 1957 Abstract Expressionism Kitsch: art in pretentious bad taste Rauschenberg believed that painting related to "both art and life. Neither can be made." Following from this belief, he created artworks that move between these realms in constant dialogue with the viewers and the surrounding world, as well as with art history. Preferring to leave the interpretation of the works to his viewers, Rauschenberg allowed chance to determine the placement and combination of the different found images and objects in his artwork such that there were no predetermined arrangements or meanings embedded within the works. TheFactum paintings are members of the Combines, that family of works through which Rauschenberg renovated the enterprise of 'collage' and made it solely his own. Engaged in questioning the definition of a work of art and the role of the artist, Rauschenberg shifted from a conceptual outlook where the authentic mark of the brushstroke described the artist's inner world towards a reflection on the contemporary world, where an interaction with popular media and mass-produced goods reflected a unique artistic vision. Rauschenberg merged the realms of kitsch and fine art, employing both traditional media and found objects within his "combines" by inserting appropriated photographs and urban detritus amidst standard wall paintings. The twocanvases were painted simultaneously, with Rauschenberg attend-ing to one and then to the other. We should note, however, that hedid not replicate his actions and materials in order to make thesame painting, or even really to make two different paintings; rather,Rauschenberg seems to have painted the works simultaneously so as to render difference itself, to render difference as an inescapable,indeed necessary, goal of creation, artistic or otherwise. Getting at this difference takes time. We might even say that time is the medium of difference. The burnishing stroke separates the image from itself; it cleaves it in two and peels the image away from itself. Thus rendered is a mirror, an image doubled both in space (but not as model to copy) and in time. A prolific innovator of techniques and mediums, he used unconventional art materials ranging from dirt and house paint to umbrellas and car tires. In the early 1950s, Rauschenberg was already gaining a reputation as the art world's enfant terrible with works such as Erased de Kooning Drawing(1953), for which he requested a drawing (as well as permission) from Willem de Kooning, and proceeded to rub away the image until only ghostly marks remained on the paper. By 1954, Rauschenberg completed his first three-dimensional collage paintings—he called them Combines—in which he incorporated discarded materials and mundane objects to explore the intersection of art and life. "I think a picture is more like the real world when it's made out of the real world," he said. In 1964 he became the first American to win the International Grand Prize in Painting at the Venice Biennale. The 1/4 Mile or Two Furlong Piece (1981-98), a cumulative artwork, embodies his spirit of eclecticism, comprising a retrospective overview of his many discrete periods, including painting, fabric collage, sculptural components made from cardboard and scrap metal, as well as a variety of image transfer and printing method.

Trading Series

Ruth Cuthand, 2000s Glass seed beads, fabric Beads and viruses go hand-in-hand; new diseases and goods that traders brought to the Americas. Trading is a series of 12 images of viruses brought by the Europeans and new disease that was brought back to Europe. The new diseases consisted of influenza, bubonic plague, measles, smallpox, typhus, cholera, scarlet fever, diphtheria, chicken pox, yellow fever and whooping cough. The disease that was taken back toEurope was syphilis; this image is in quillwork. Beads are a visual reference to colonization; valuable furs were traded for inexpensive beads. On the plains beads were a valuable trade item, they replaced the method of using porcupine quills. Preparing the quills for decorating clothing was a long process that consisted of sorting the quills, preparing vegetal dyes and flattening the quill to sew down in patterns. Obviously beads were quicker to use, covered large areas and came in a wide variety of colours. Trading examines both sides of European trade. Trade brought new items that revolutionized Native life. The iron pot made boiling food easier to digest, new trapping methods and the introduction of the horse: are only a few. The downside was the decimation of many tribes through disease. Diseases quickly spread, arriving even before Europeans.

Shango's Avatar

Santa Barbara Shango is an Orisha, a divine entity whose attributes invoke thunder, the drums and dance. In Yorubaland, now Nigeria, Sàngó was an historic King of the Oyo empire, became a revered ancestor, and later part of the divine. When slaves were brought to the New World in massive numbers, they brought their belief systems with them. Over the centuries since the end of the slave trade, those beliefs have not only survived, but have flourished, often hidden behind a mask of Catholicism or practiced in conjunction with other faiths. Even harsh persecution has failed to extinguish the reverence for Orisha. There are now more Orisha practitioners in the New World than there are in Yorubaland, and if we add to those numbers those who practice related or syncretic systems of Vodoun, espiritisimo and Umbanda the figures could be as high as 50 million here in the West. Exact numbers are difficult to tally, since due to persecution many respondents to surveys simply state they are Catholic.These artists worked studiously to incorporate an international racial and cultural legacy into an African-based aesthetic which could serve as a unifying link for Africans in the Diaspora. Saint Barbara is often portrayed with a crown, miniature chains, swords and a tower. Santa Barbara continues to be a popular saint in modern times, perhaps best known as the patron saint of armorer, artillerymen, military engineers, miners and others who work with explosives, because of her legend's association with lightning and fire. In Cuba, December 4th is the feast day of Santa Barbara. It is a great party for all who believe in her. People also associate Chango, an orisha deity that slaves adored, with this day. The celebrations involve parties and dancing into the night. In the Afro-Cuban religion of Santeria, Santa Barbara is syncretized with Chango — the deity of fire, lightning and thunder. Cuban tradition dictates offerings to her of apples, roses, cigars and rum.

Insertions into Ideological Circuits: Coca-Cola Project

The Insertions into Ideological Circuits arose out of the need to create a system for the circulation and exchange of information that did not depend on any kind of centralized control. This would be a form of language, a system essentially opposed to the media of press, radio and television - typical examples of media that actually reach an enormous audience, but in the circulation systems of which there is always a degree of control and channelling of the information inserted ... The way I conceived it, the Insertions would only exist to the extent that they ceased to be the work of just one person. The work only exists to the extent that other people participate in it. What also arises is the need for anonymity. By extension, the question of anonymity involves the question of ownership. When the object of art becomes a practice, it becomes something over which you can have no control or ownership.Cildo Meireles, 1970s, screenprint on Coca-Cola Bottles explore the notion of circulation and exchange of goods, wealth and information as manifestations of the dominant ideology. For the Coca-Cola Project Meireles removed Coca-Cola bottles from normal circulation and modified them by adding critical political statements, or instructions for turning the bottle into a Molotov cocktail, before returning them to the circuit of exchange. On the bottles, such messages as 'Yankees Go Home' are followed by the work's title and the artist's statement of purpose: 'To register informations and critical opinions on bottles and return them to circulation'. The Coca-Cola bottle is an everyday object of mass circulation; in 1970 in Brazil it was a symbol of US imperialism and it has become, globally, a symbol of capitalist consumerism. As the bottle progressively empties of dark brown liquid, the statement printed in white letters on a transparent label adhering to its side becomes increasingly invisible, only to reappear when the bottle is refilled for recirculation. The Currency Project followed a similar structure, with texts containing information and critical messages being stamped onto banknotes that were then returned to circulation. In both projects, the messages are in a mixture of English and Portuguese. Meireles has commented:

Neo-Concrete

The neo-concrete movement was a splinter group of the 1950s Brazilian concrete art movement, calling for a greater sensuality, colour and poetic feeling in concrete art。 With the construction of the country's new utopian capital, Brasilia and the formation of the São Paulo Biennial, young Brazilian artists were inspired to create art that drew on contemporary theories of cybernetics, gestalt psychology and the optical experiments of international artists like Bridget Riley and Victor Vasarely. Lygia Clark, Lygia Pape, Am'lcar de Castro, Franz Weissmann, Reynaldo Jardim, Sergio de Camargo, Theon Spanudis and Ferreira Gullar were unhappy with the dogmatic approach of the concrete group, so published the neo-concrete manifesto in 1959. In 1960 Hélio Oiticicajoined the group and his groundbreaking series of red and yellow painted hanging wood constructions effectively liberated colour into three-dimensional space. The modernization of Brazil would translate into the end of underdevelopment and a structure of dependency put in place with colonialism. Neo-Concrete Art was established in response to Concrete Art, which emphasized the use of planes and colors to convey objective scientific principles. The Swiss artist Max Bill, a major exponent of Concrete Art, had significant exhibitions in São Paulo, Brazil in the early 1950s, inspiring a younger generation of artists there. In 1959, the Neo-Concrete Manifesto was written by a group of artists in Rio de Janeiro—including Lygia Clark, Hélio Oiticica, and Lygia Pape—who shared a similar interest in abstract forms and the use of color but wanted to insert poetic, and sometimes political, meaning and a greater sense of freedom and flexibility into their work. The merging of art and life was crucial: painting was to be removed from its frame, sculpture taken down from its pedestal, and the work constantly subject to re-invention by its viewers. This led to developments in participatory and immersive art, as exemplified by Oiticica's penetrable environments and wearable sculptures or Pape's envisioning of a world without words in Book of Creation. The critic Ronaldo Brito called Neo-Concrete Art a "rupture" in Brazilian art history, one that would inspire later generations of artists in Brazil, including those practicing under the repressive military dictatorship between 1964 and 1985.