Erwin Redl is a digital and new media artist and currently has an exhibit at Emerson College running through Nov. 30. Before the exhibit kicked off, we had a chance to chat with Erwin and gain an insight into his inspiration.

This past weekend I visited the Institute of Contemporary Art and saw the exhibition Street Level. Before seeing Street Level, street art to me was graffiti. However, Street Level shows that street art can be a collage assembling a sneaker, an installation of plenty used speakers, or a photograph sequence showing a skateboarder skating on a chalked-out half-pipe.

This is an interesting show and will be held until Oct. 19. Don’t miss it if you like street art.

There’s been plenty written about Bas Jan Ader in the past few years.  This may be due to the recent romantization of his career (due in part to his rebellion against the “high art” of his day, his unique combination of comedy and poetry, and most of all, his untimely demise), however, I am one to believe that he was a truly brilliant mind speaking to one specific commonality: the human being’s inability to relate with others and the inevitable isolation that follows.  Now more than ever, the delicacy of human interaction strikes true in our lives.  We spend more time communicating with others via the computer screen than we do face to face.

Today, I had the unique experience of touring the SMFA masters thesis studios and talking directly with the artists - face to face.  In doing so, I noticed a trend that many of the artists there (as pointed out by one artist, Andrea Evans, in specific) were attempting to grasp at the difficulties that we all face in relating with each other.  Or, in the terms of Ader (via The Coasters): we’ve all been “Searchin” for a way to break down that barrier and find a way to connect.  But what happens when we finally do?

Below, you will find a formal analysis of Jan Bas Ader’s 1971 work, “I’m Too Sad to Tell You” (arguably, his most famous piece).  In this, I’m not going to try to shove anything down your throat - because frankly, I want you to come to your own conclusions as to why Ader’s work has continued to be resonant nearly 40 years later.

When initially viewing a work of art, an observer takes into account its content, style, and how these together make the viewer feel.  However, the viewer must also take into account how items such as formal content and historical context affect (and possibly manipulate) their feelings toward the work.  Bas Jan Ader’s “I’m Too Sad to Tell You” is a short black and white film shot on 16mm.  The film begins with a handwritten title card, first telling the artist and the year made (1971), and then the title of the film.  The artist, shot in close-up with a grey backdrop, then proceeds to cry (or make himself cry) in front of the camera.  The film amounts to a length of 3 minutes and 34 seconds and as the time progresses, the artist’s sobs grow and diminish in waves.  When I first saw this piece, I was fascinated by the apparent honesty that Ader was exhibiting to his audience.  Obviously, he leaves many questions unanswered (namely: “Why the hell is he crying?”). Nonetheless, he exhibits his human qualities: his frailty and his willingness to express himself freely.  In this paper, I will examine “I’m Too Sad to Tell You” under opposite viewpoints in order to determine what I make of a work that intrigues me so much.

Ader, having lived in California since the early sixties, started becoming recognized for his work in the early 1970’s.  In 1970, he filmed his first in a series of “falls” (in which he filmed himself falling from various states and locations).  In early
1971, Ader took a break from his “fall” series to film “I’m Too Sad to Tell You.”  1971 was also the year that he completed his “fall” series beginning with “Broken Fall (Organic)” in which he hung from a tree branch about twenty-five feet above a shallow creek for approximately a minute and a half, and then proceeded to let go and fall into the creek below.  His piece “Nightfall,” the longest of the fall series at 4 minutes 16 seconds, consists of Ader, in a small room lit by two lights on the floor, lifting a large rock above his head and dropping it on first the right light and then the second light.  In the last of Ader’s “fall” series, “Broken Fall (Geometric),” Ader stood on a cobblestone road next to a police barricade and makes himself trip and fall into the barricade from a standing position.  After completing this series (and “I’m Too Sad to Tell You,” which is not a part of the series), Ader started work on a triptych that he hoped to complete titled “In Search of the Miraculous.”  This work was composed of photographs of Ader wandering L.A. with captions stating “Yeh I’ve been searchin’” (this is a reference to a Coasters song), a “sea shanty” choir performing the Henry Russell song “A Life on the Ocean Wave,” and Ader’s final voyage in a small sailboat from Cap Cod, MA to Falmouth, England.  Ader considered his performance voyage along with the choir performance as the second part of his triptych, but never completed his work.  In 1976, about a year after he had set sail, Ader’s boat was found in Ireland and he was “declared lost at sea.” (from Jan Verwoert’s 2006 book, Bas Jan Ader: In Search of the Miraculous).

Bas Jan Ader’s “I’m Too Sad to Tell You,” is a work of art made by a Conceptual artist in a time defined by artistic and cultural rebellion.  Ader’s piece contextually fits into the start of the seventies rebellion of the cultural norm.  The simplicity of the piece is derived from the fact that Ader “boil[s] the representation of grand emotion down to its most basic form, a picture of someone crying in closeup” (Verwoert 18).  The revolutionary and rebellious mindset of the seventies opened the door for Conceptual artists to freely express their minds, be it politically or existentially.  Ader, though his life and career were cut short, was a part of this mindset and can be easily categorized as such.  His abstract works were well received in the seventies and were highly influential in the development of Conceptual art.  Contextually, Bas Jan Ader was a product of his environment and in turn, his environment was heavily affected and influenced by his work.

It’s pointless to discuss why Ader is crying because frankly, he was too sad to tell us his intent.  However, when considering his work as a whole and within its context, it is still appropriate to question the implications of his tears.  When reviewing Ader’s works, it could be determined that he was a man driven mostly by romantic ideals.  His work could be an expression of his search for love (the miraculous), willingness to “fall” for love, and as expressed in “I’m Too Sad to Tell You,” his regret over love lost.   This may seem like a farfetched and unfounded claim, but due mostly to Ader’s untimely death, his body of works has been heavily romanticized.  As a result, Ader has been proclaimed as a “wandering tragic hero on a quest for the sublime” (Verwoert 3).  In this case, “I’m Too Sad to Tell You” could be an expression of Ader’s ability to express his femininity.

Ader’s works could also be easily read with a tongue and cheek sense of humor.  It’s safe to say that the components that make up the “fall” series are also the essence of slapstick comedy.  Also, I would like to point out that “Searchin’” by The Coasters is an extremely light hearted song and by using it as an inspiration for his abbreviated triptych, he had to have had some sense of humor (or at least some sense of hope in finding what he was searching for).  In this light, “I’m Too Sad to Tell You” aligns with its context in that it could be viewed as Ader’s humorous rebellion against the conceptual art world:
“According to his friend Bill Leavitt, Ader considered cool California hipster artists like Alan Ruppersberg or Jack Goldstein a bit of a joke, and was apparently quite prepared to make a bigger joke, at the considerable risk of blowing his own cool cover in the process.
For example, in one of his more famous pieces, I’m Too Sad To Tell You (1970), the handsome artist is crying in front of the camera, exhibiting an overt ‘femininity’ that we can readily appreciate today but which would have been wholly unacceptable in the macho artworld of California in the 1960s, had it not been for the implied irony of the piece.” (From Rene Daalder: http://www.contemporarymagazine.com/feature60.htm)
If this viewpoint is true, Ader’s willingness to rebel against his contemporaries and their ideals would strongly reflect the rebellious nature of the time period in which he produced his work.

Whenever I view the work, I find it to be not only fascinating, as I stated earlier, but also to be very calming and serene.  This is due mainly to its simplicity.  Bas Jan Ader, who I view to be simply curious as to what would happen if he were to cry in front of a camera, shot “I’m Too Sad to Tell You.”  However, when examined along with its context and related content, it surely would have been a jarring sight to see a man crying so accessibly to his audience.  “I’m Too Sad to Tell You” could be purely viewed as a beautiful action, but also as a tactful, well-addressed rebellion against gender roles and the “coolness” of masculinity.  Ader was willing to put himself in front of the camera to first be viewed in such a feminine and “uncool” way.  This requires a great sense of humor and awareness of the world around him.  What I originally made of Ader’s work and what I make of Ader’s work within its context are two very different things.  This variation in theories surrounding the piece also establishes a beauty of mystery in “I’m Too Sad to Tell You.”  As expressed by the title, there is no apparent answer to why Ader is crying, and thus there is no specific reason given to the audience.  All we can determine is that he is somehow crying, and it is up to the viewer to determine why (if they even choose to do so).  Due to the ambiguity of “I’m Too Sad to Tell You,” the duality of my interpretations can exist in Ader’s world because there is no right or wrong answer.

It’s supposed to be a good thing when art meets marketing, because marketing bridges the gap between a piece of art and those who appreciate it. However, it becomes almost nauseating when art actually is the marketing. An e-mail from the Kluger Agency, who represents Mariah Carey and Ludacris, proposed offering the owner of Double Happiness Jeans, a virtual sweatshop in Second Life, an opportunity to include Double Happiness Jeans, with the right price, in the lyrics of an upcoming Pussycat Dolls song. While Pussycat Dolls is not a band with too much integrity that will cause heart attacks to their fans, it’s still scary to imagine the possibility of other artists writing songs to advertise products and companies that pay them.

However, who is to blame? Digital music and file sharing have forced the musicians to scour for new revenue sources. Music itself has become less of a product, but more of marketing, branding, merchandising, and targeting rolled into one. This trend can be verified by the fact that more and more major artists such as Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails offer their music for free or whatever price people want to pay. Licensing deals, brand extensions, product lines, live events, movie and TV deals are where the money really is.

What about the contemporary art industry? The sales shows that an art piece is still the product, one that can sell for millions of dollars. Sotheby’s and Christie’s, the two main auction houses, together sold an eye-popping $12.5 billion in artwork last year—an annual increase of more than 40 percent. However, who determines the value of an art piece? Artists?  Buyers? Dealers? Or galleries? My answer is the marketing. Marketing stimulates demand, marketing creates a social status of ownership, and then marketing determines the value of an art piece. The success of some of the most popular artists throughout history is often due to their performance as businessmen. Damien Hirst, undeniably the most profitable artist alive, was once accused by The New York Times of being less of an artist than “the manager of the hedge fund of Damien Hirst’s art.” And as we all know, Andy Warhol once observed: “Good business is the best art.”

Art, when it meets marketing, sells.

Unfortunately museums in the United States aren’t quite as generous as those in London - most of whom open their doors for free to art patrons. However, this Saturday, September 27th is Museum Day across the country. Organized by the Smithsonian Magazine, Museum Day is a great opportunity to discover new venues that you would have otherwise put off. Visit the Museum Day website and use their interactive map to find a participating venue near you.

Towards the end of summer, I started learning Adobe Flash from scratch and after two months of learning, I built and launched my first Flash Web site a week ago.

Here is a little background of my Web design skill level before I started: I have experiences in using Photoshop, Dreamweaver, HTML, CSS and have built two Web sites. So I’m familiar with Adobe’s interface and Web design and development, but never used Flash before.

I found a plenty of online tutorials that are extremely helpful. And I selected and organized them into my top 5 tutorials for the very beginners (like me) to build a Flash Web site.

1. Adobe Video Workshop Adobe itself is a great source for learning its products and this video inventory is great for beginners. Select “Flash” in the top left column, choose “getting started” in the top right column, and double click the videos in the center column and the learning begins.
2. Tutvid.com This site provides video tutorials for specific applications commonly used in Web design such as drop down menu and photo gallery.
3. Good-Tutorials This is a tutorial aggregator that organizes tutorials into various topics such as “Animation” and “Interactivity”.
4. Latest Videos This another tutorial aggregator focuses on video tutorials.
5. Flash My Mind If you want to dig into ActionScript 3.0, this site has comprehensive tutorials elaborating the AS 3.0. They are very well organized and easy to navigate step by step.

There are a lot more out there but this should be a great set to start with.

Recently I met this artist Landon on Newbury St. in Boston, just right by the J.P. Licks. His dark, surreal kind of drawings caught my eye and I finally chose the one called “today’s dream is tomorrow’s nightmare,” which I really liked both the concept and the artwork. You can see his info and arts on his MySpace page or maybe on Newbury st. if you are lucky.

“All Eyes On My Morning Jacket” feat. the Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestra enlisted the help of the band and their fans to shoot footage of My Morning Jacket’s festival performance using digital cameras and cell phones from all angles.

My take on this video is that when people can see the differences they make and get credit for them, they are more than happy working for you. On the other hand, if people think their presence doesn’t make any difference, they would just wonder why they are even here.

Naturally for us, this applies to our fall round of intern recruitment.

5 months ago I started working at For Art’s Sake Media as an intern without having previous related working experiences. I was realistic enough to know where I stood and what I had to offer. Coming to work hearing people throwing around terms and stuff that made me wonder what they were, I knew I had to make a difference in myself before I can make a difference in the company. I did whatever responsibilities came to me and learned from everything, listened to people’s conversation, asked questions and read a bunch of stuff, trying to make myself more “web-savvy” and “in-the-know”. This is a good learning environment if you like entrepreneurship, Web 2.0, social media, Lil Wayne and Burning Man. The key is to be positive, proactive, and a little bit wild.

Good luck to the upcoming new blood.

Recently I had an opportunity to chat with Natalie Kocsis (aka Natty) regarding EndlessRoom. I came across her art after seeing an interview with her on Current TV.

She is a very talented artist in the Brooklyn area and will be featured in Contempt’s 10th Anniversary gala and art show. Keep an eye out for her work once we launch EndlessRoom.

The winner of the 2008 Next Star Artist Competition, Herb Williams, is currently having a solo exhibition of his work at the Monsoon Gallery in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. According to the Monsoon Gallery press release “The Monsoon show will include many flowers ­ a perfect subject choice due to the intense saturation of color the crayons give Williams ­ as well as several homages to great artists throughout history. Williams’ art can be enjoyed by all, but audiences with knowledge of art history will especially enjoy seeing his take on the work of artists such as Jim Dine, Alexander Calder, Paul Cezanne, and Albrecht Durer”

Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants
July 11 - September 3
Opening Friday, July 11

Location:
Monsoon Gallery
11 East 3rd Street
Bethlehem, PA 18015
610.866.6600
www.monsoongalleries.com

Press Reviews:

• According to Caroline
• Museum PR News
• Montgomery Newspapers

Image Source:
“Homage To Andre Serrano”
15? x 17? x 17?
mixed media
in artist collection
©Herb Williams

About the Author
Nicholas Forrest is an art market analyst, art critic and journalist based in Sydney, Australia. He is the founder of www.artmarketblog.com, writes the art column for the magazine Antiques and Collectibles for Pleasure and Profit and contributes to many other publications.