#portland2016bca

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie. Works by Heidi Schwegler.

-q

[reedienews]

#Repost @prudencefenwick ・・・ The cases in the Reed College library hold Rick Silva's 3D printed sculptures from "The Silva Guide to Birds of a Parallel Future.' A lovely installation in a very beautiful library. #portland2016bcaroadtrip #portland2016bca #wayoutwest #exploreoregon #upperleftusa #westcoastisthebestcoast #iloveart #iloveportland #reedcollege

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie. Works by Heidi Schwegler.

-h

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie. Works by Heidi Schwegler.

-q

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

A quick video recording of Heidi Schwegler's Do Not Do audio piece in the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie, OR for the PORTLAND2016 Biennial of Contemporary Art.

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie. Works by Heidi Schwegler.

-q

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie. Works by Heidi Schwegler.

-h

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie. Works by Heidi Schwegler.

-q

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Hazen Hardware Building, Clatskanie. Works by Heidi Schwegler.

-h

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

A short video of Avantika Bawa’s installation in the Astor Hotel Lobby, Astoria.

Bawa creates a clamorous, yet calm, environment with her construction recordings of her metal scaffolding on display. The soundtrack exposes possible hidden memories of the building’s creation but, also allows room for the silence within the shadows created both by the golden structure and the decaying grandeur of the historic hotel. 

-h

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Art-o-motive transportation

Art is by nature automotive. Though a simple or, perhaps more accurately, colloquial definition of “automotive” is “that which relates to automobiles” the word itself actually means “self-propelled.” This distinction is important because: it effectively demonstrates how the meanings of words can change—in this case due to our automobile-centric proclivities; it also is important because, in my limited experience, much that is accomplished in the art world seems to be due to individuals who propel themselves—that is, individuals who drive themselves toward something; moreover, it also relates to the Portland 2016 Biennial of Contemporary Art.

As already discussed in A note on biennials, and the Portland 2016 Biennial of Contemporary Art In Particular, curator Michelle Grabner intentionally sought to design a biennial that literally forced people to drive themselves great distances—should they wish to experience the event in its entirety. But why is this important? Well, for starters it is a challenge to the typical paradigm of an art experience. Art often hangs on a wall or sits on a pedestal. These walls and pedestals are usually found in galleries or museums, though sometimes in public spaces. Art can also be found in places of commerce—cafes, restaurants, hotels, bars. In more rare instances, art exists in more marginal or fringe settings, such as a garage or in a closet. But let’s get back to museums and galleries. These institutions often cluster together, which leads to the emergence of an “arts district” in a city where art-goers can count on multiple locales in which to experience various types of art and exhibitions. So what does it mean when that paradigm is subverted?

This road trip across Oregon that Hannah and I are currently on has been interesting. Compared to the limited number of openings and exhibitions that we have experienced, either mutually or individually, this one has been and still is a stretch. It is a stretch for our schedules, it certainly is a stretch for our finances, it constitutes a very long stretch of driving spread throughout nearly two weeks, and it is a stretch for us insofar as what an art experience can be. This last point is very important to us.

Just as words can change so that they represent a reductive part of their original or true meanings, experiences that do not deviate far from a normalized set of expectations can stunt the growth of those seeking variety and holism. Of course this is not to say that norms are in some way inherently bad or evil—that should go without saying; what it is to say is that we need deviance from norms almost as much as we need norms. The two cannot exist without each other. Without straying too far into epistemic paradigms—that is, how knowledge and meaning are constructed—we should be able to agree that when one defines what a thing is, one is also defining what that thing is not. If automotive (colloquially) means “that which relates to cars”, then there is little space for automotive (holistically) to mean “self-propelled.”

To bring this back to the road trip that is this year’s Portland Biennial, this deviance from the norm means a break of cycle. At least for me and Hannah. It is important to acknowledge that such an ambitious and lengthy trip for the sake of art experiencing—or “arting” as we like to call it—is a privilege. Compared to the typical biennial which often is contained to a city, if not one specific venue, this edition has concomitant contingencies that make it a challenge for the average art-goer. The need for automotive transportation is a must. As one contingency begets another, the need for automotive transport necessitates fuel. Fuel comes at a price—dollars per gallon for automobiles, buses, trains, etc., or carbs per mile for a cyclist or walker. If one would like the independence to travel at one’s will (at a fast pace) then an automobile really is necessary. If one does not have access to an automobile then a bicycle—or walking—will have to suffice, but will aso greatly increase the necessary number of days to physically travel across the land. Should one wish to travel faster, but does not have access to an automobile, then the complex challenge of linking up public transportation across the many venues of the state is a nightmare if not outright impossible. But I digress.

Here’s the thing—automotive transportation tends to thrive on routes that facilitate automotive transportation. Though the idea of “self-propelling” is romantic, typically it happens along routes created for the express purpose of movement. It might be easy to fall trap to an idea of independence when auto-moting, after all, one is travelling through space and time under one’s own volition; but this travel is along routes already laid by other people so that we may travel along them. Stop and think about that for a moment. Though we may think we are forging our own route, we are still traveling down pathways built by others, for others.

This brings up something fantastically important to us: though we often feel as though we are making our own decisions, especially when transporting ourselves via whatever form of automotive transportation we have access to (or when making art?!), we really are often following the paths cut by others. To return to the transportation metaphor, buses can really only travel on roadways. Perhaps one might venture off an established roadway, but the apparatus of the bus then begins to fall apart due to the new and unintended terrain upon which it is now being steered across. And although it certainly is possible to travel through or across seemingly uncharted and unexplored land, the going is often tedious if not downright treacherous. The point here is not necessarily to advocate for only cutting new paths, nor is the point to reinforce travel along pre-established routes. The point is to be intentional and aware of where we are going, how, and why.

To bring it all back, it can be easy to fall into routine behavior via pre-established routes/modes of working/ideologies masquerading as individual agency. Words fall into this category, as does transportation. My point, however, is that breaks in these cycles are so vitally important. Afterall, if one does not even know that the word “automotive” can mean more than just “relating to automobiles” then where is their agency in this world and in their life? If we were not forced to experience art in the form of a two week road trip, complete with visits to family and friends, camping along rivers and in forests, meeting new people from across the entire state, then what would our conception of art and the art world be? I do not know because here I am with Hannah. Smack dab in the middle of just such a trip. Similarly, had we not received the education in arts that we already have, had we not grew up in the communities that we did, perhaps we would not be here now.

Options. Agency. Deviance. Norms.

Ending questions, which are both wide open but also directly related to the above writing:

Where are we and why?

What tools have been given to us? Left for us to find? Left for us to use?

What tools can we choose to seek out?

What paths will we go?

Why?

How often do we get to fall asleep in a tent after seeing numerous art exhibitions?

What does it mean to go from a fancy art space to a camp-cooked meal and stars overhead?

What does it mean when arting necessitates multiple beds slept in but none our own, a limited diet focused more on function than flavour, lack of wi-fi?  

Why aren’t more art experiences like this? Art on.

-q

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Really enjoyed Julia Oldham and Jack Featherly’s work at the Royal Nebeker Center of the Arts at Clatsop Community College in Astoria. 

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from the Royal Nebeker Art Gallery at Clatsop Community College, Astoria. Works by Jack Featherly and Julia Oldham.

- h

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from Avantika Bawa’s installation in the Astor Hotel Lobby, Astoria. 

- h

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Photos from Avantika Bawa’s installation in the Astor Hotel lobby in Astoria. Write-up to come! 

-q

[cascadiacultureblog-blog]

Day 3 Photos, “Eugene to Astoria” - h + q