The day of the presentation,
I set up four different easels, displaying the final
products from each of the locations. The easels stood
next to a computer monitor, where the footage of soliciting
people to paint and their processes of painting played
in real time. My fellow ActLabbies were encouraged
to walk around the space, viewing both the final art
pieces and the video that tracked their creation.
Observations
I
noticed a few peculiar trends during this quasi-sociological
experiment.
Nearly
90% of the time, if there was a woman walking with
a man, the woman would always defer to her companion
and encourage him to participate before she did.
People
are interested in money. Several Austinites asked
if they had to pay to paint. One gentlemen on 6th
St. demanded that I pay him money to paint. I paid
him a few bucks, and he painted Jesus. When I asked
if he minded being videotaped, he requested $20. I
went elsewhere.
People
tended to respect others' space. Surprisingly, people
were careful not to paint or draw over someone else's
work, even though they had no contact with the previous
artists. Perhaps everyone is familiar with the unspoken
codes of artists' courtesy.
An ACC cinematography
student paints a Rose while we're stationed on 6th
St. and San Jacinto. We attract a crowd, and people
are dressed up for Halloween. She and her friend,
after chatting with my roommate and me, invite us
to spend Halloween evening with them by watching Shaun
of the Dead and making cupcakes. Unsure if they are
serious about the offer, my roommate and I change
the subject.
The
Case of the Greyhound
I
began this project hoping I would get a varied sample
of people. I went to the Greyhound staion, believing
I would involve those other than the predominately
white, upper-middle class, college-educated demographic
I had encountered in the other three locations.
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My
Mission
I
travelled to four different locales in Austin
with a canvas, an easel, paints, and various
other art supplies, and asked people walking
around to do essentially what we do in the
ActLab: make stuff. I set up my mobile art
station downtown on 6th St., on campus, in
the Redbud dog park, and at the Greyhound
bus station on Koenig and I-35.
Generally
speaking, this was probably one of the most
interesting activities I've completed during
my time at UT. Most people I spoke with found
my request strange. Talking to unfamiliar
people in odd circumstances is fun, but unsettling
at times. I got a lot of awkward stares and
was rejected plenty of times. But several
people reported loving getting a chance to
simply paint.
London SW7 58D
My
wonderfully helpful roommate, Kevin Cloud,
assembles the easel at our first destination,
the Six-pack.
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The
Theory
In
this project, I wanted to explore ways of thinking
about the spaces we inhabit differently than we usually
do. Going to different places in Austin allowed me
to think of the city in terms of variations of artistic
expression, rather than their geographic location.
This
project was largely inspired by the essay written
by Roland Barthes in the late sixties, "The Death
of the Author." In the article, he argues against
looking at biographical information of the author
as a way to access the works he/she produces. Not
too long after Barthes's essay was published, Michel
Foucault continued Barthes's idea, and called into
question the extent to which we can assume an individual
author, or auteur.
In
doing an exercise like this, I deprivilege myself
as an author of any art. I am not responsible for
the paintings; they are instead the labor of many
random people. And the extent to which they can even
lay claim to some kind of authorship is debateable
since we all borrow from each other knowingly, or
unknowingly.
The
work in progress at Red Bud dog park. A pack of dogs
nearly knocked down the easel. And about an hour into
the session, we realized we were stationed near a
huge pile of dog shit.
I
left the Greyhound station with a zero success rate
and a blank canvas. This led me to think about how
certain groups of people are often made invisible—not
necessarily intentionally so—and how we might
be able to correct for that. This is certainly a central
question for art and theory that we should keep working
on.
IIf
I had had more time to work on the project, and if
I had a vehicle, I would have gone to several more
locations. I'm hopeful that there will be a part two
some time.
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