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.

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.

There I was standing among all of these people I didn’t know looking up two stories at this vision of a woman and a man next to each other. People were dressed to impress. The energy was intense. The decor was Amazing! Was it Vegas? NYC? L.A.? People laughing, chatting, mingling - I had to pinch myself to see if I was awake or asleep - Ouch! I was awake. It was real and it was Indianapolis.

There I was gazing at my artwork - 4 pieces side by side standing 22 feet tall. Wow! What a feeling to see my art hanging in such an amazing restaurant in the heart of the Indianapolis Art District.

Kerry & Lyle Feigenbaum contacted me in November and told me their vision of their remodeled restaurant - that was all I needed to hear - I wanted to be a part of this artistic creation. It was going to be a visual masterpiece and my art was going to be a part of it.

The look is “Sexy and Intimate” - SI. We chose two images that displayed that feeling - Jade and Roux. One image of a woman scantily clad in a green colored drape and a man outstretched seeing his bare back in a red cloth. The interesting thing is when you see the two images together there is a subtly of their shape in the shape of “S” and “I”…….or maybe it was planned that way - must have been Kerry’s idea.

It doesn’t stop there - new technology and new media come together to create a multimedia presentation that is spectacular as images of Female Art Form and Male Art Form float across the high-tech screens in the restaurant, bar and waiting area. One of the large tables in the bar has a projection lamp above the ceiling that projects onto the table and displays the art as people sit on the sofas and enjoy their drinks.

My favorite room is upstairs. There you will find a “Community Table”. The tables were custom made - and they have lights built into them that allow you to change the colors of the lights depending upon the mood you are in - It is surrounded by intimate booths blocked off by sheer drapes.

I found myself on Friday night at the Community Table and met a lot of people -Race Car Drivers, Doctors, a Fashion Designer, an Accountant, an Architect, a Personal Trainer, a Restaurateur, many Presidents and Vice Presidents of different companies and many others who had ties to Scottsdale. It was great to sit on this long table and share a gourmet meal with all of these people - so many conversations going and I just floated from one to another.

And, oh yeah - my artwork is projected onto the marble wall above the fireplace. That was definitely a conversation piece - I sat back and listened to people’s comments and was quite pleased.

The VIP Party was great - fabulous appetizers and drinks - there is even a drink named the “Jade Garden”….and of course I had to have one of those - it was very tasty. I met a lot of interesting people who had come to celebrate with the Feigenbaum’s. BTW - Lyle and Kerry are the real deal - original. I could tell from the interactions they had with their customers that they had a great relationship with them that they had earned. Everyone I talked with had nothing but nice things to say about them. And, having worked with them over the past few months I must agree.

Lyle and Kerry approached Rowland Design to remodel the restaurant….and who better - after all it was Rowland Design who designed the restaurant the first time 5 years ago. Sarah Schwartzkopf and Randy Veatch listened and came up with a vision. And when you walk in the restaurant it will take your breath away….it did mine. Every little detail has been taken care of - from custom made tables, chairs and benches to the columns that are lit from within.

I was fortunate to sit with the Rowland Design team as we had only communicated via email or phone up to this point. They told me about all of the little details that went into the design of the restaurant.

The food was phenomenal! The Fillet was the best I have ever eaten. There was an array of flavors with the sauce and other seasonings that I am still dreaming about. And the Chocolate Ganache is so tasty but with fresh blueberries was incredible. Chef Jake (I think they call him “Jacques” in Paris) has created a new menu and I tried a number of selections and was impressed with all of them - I do have to go back and have the duck!

This was my first trip to Indianapolis and to be honest I only knew about Hoosiers from the movie and that is about it - but I want to thank all of you for rolling out the red carpet for me - or maybe that is just your Indy style.

Thanks to Kerry and Lyle for choosing my artwork to adorn your walls, to Sarah and Randy for being great to work with, to Brad Carlson for staying in touch and working so closely with me, to all of my new friends in Indy - I’ll see you again soon - I hope. And a big thank you to everyone at the restaurant from Jay, Amanda, Marla, Jake, Alex and my many bartenders and others that I met - It was great meeting all of you, conversing with you, hearing your thoughts on life, politics, and not to mention my art!

Thank you for your support.

Click on any image to see it in full size

There is bad art, good art, and even great art, but most of it isn’t interesting art. If you go through any of the large art museums, you will find some rooms crowded and most rooms empty. I believe that the art that draws the crowds is the interesting art, and that is what I aim for.

Most of my current pictures start with a digital photograph. I work on these images without a definite plan, experimenting until I produce an interesting image. Sometimes I know what I’m looking for when I begin. Sometimes I trust to fortune. I’ve developed many techniques, but I try to remain open to new tools and techniques that lead down unexplored paths. Most photographs strive for total accuracy and realism and this makes them less interesting. There is too much information. The Impressionists discovered the secret of removing some of the information from a picture. Each viewer recreates a different view of the artist’s vision and this makes the picture more personal.There are many things that can be done to an image, once it is in the computer, to achieve a more interesting look. You can use retouching to remove defects, and you can correct the color or the contrast. The most interesting thing you can do is to remove some of the information from the image so that it is more like a painting.

At one end of the spectrum is total realism. At the other end is total abstraction. I try to place my images into this spectrum at the point where it is the most interesting. I also try to vary the techniques I use, just like Picasso and Man Ray. I think that these artists got bored with a technique and moved on to new things. There is always the danger that an artist will develop a style and then be forever typed by that style.I try to keep my images both strong and simple. I try to invent new techniques, not just for variation, but to open new ways of seeing an image. I believe that this is a new form of art. It is a combination of photography, computers, new materials, and traditional methods. I have created an impressionist art movement for the 21st century.

Portrait in shades of brown

Abstraction and Classicism. Gestural motions and realism. Pop art and Greek mythology. For Nora Lehmann, whose solo exhibition “Nora Lehmann: Corpora Nova” was recently on view at the Boston University Sherman Gallery, the artistic styles are not separate entities, but blend together onto the same canvas. She creates not only “new bodies” (influenced by Ovid’s Metamorphoses) but a new way of looking at the historic styles of art.

In Summer Wedding Diptych, two large vertical canvases hang side by side. Bright flesh tones of perfectly sculpted bodies morph into complete abstraction, consuming the linen canvases with color – pinks, greens, browns, grays – as black cartoon outlines of spatters evoke Pop art. (The spatters could also be teardrops or leaves, the latter suggesting Adam and Eve.) The left canvas depicts a man’s feet and legs against a hazy blue-and-green background with realism turning into abstraction above his phallus. The right canvas shows a woman’s torso, her arms embracing her body, her hands covering her large, sagging breasts. A mysterious arm (blurred into ambiguity at the elbow) comes from her left side to cover her genitals with its veiny hand, one finger slyly tucked between her closed legs. A few inches below, her body disappears behind the same colors as in its counterpart.

In another large work, Atalanta (a reference to the female athlete in Greek mythology), Lehmann uses a thick brush for a mix of large, sweeping brushstrokes and short, jagged strokes that cohere into a mass of unnatural and organic colors. Two arms break free from behind the mass of color – hugging or fighting the paint? – and a foot sticks out near the bottom of the canvas on an area of green paint. Elsewhere, the limbs are surrounded by black paint, emphasizing their sculptural quality and their separation from abstraction and realism.

Lehmann uses black paint similarly in other works, such as in Me Plus You. Against a black background, Lehmann has painted the middle section of a woman – from her mid-thighs to her waste, including her pubic area – pink from a fresh shave – but black paint smears against the bottom of the canvas. The black smear travels through her closed inner thighs as a thick outline. The left outline of her vaginal region morphs into a sloppily drawn phallus, with a light burgundy and splashes of red – blood? – shooting from it onto the background.

Overall, Lehmann offers a variety of viewing experiences – some more exciting then others – but she has the most success by mixing these styles, blending two ends of the artistic spectrum into one work, stimulating curiosity, wonderment, and anticipation for her next postmodern twist on the classics.

Nora Lehmann: Corpora Nova was on view at the Sherman Gallery (775 Commonwealth Avenue, second floor, Boston, MA 02215) October 30 to December 14, 2007. Nora Lehmann is an artist-in-residence at the School of Visual Arts at Boston University.