INTERCOURSE

Jaimie Hatfield

            The purpose of my artwork is to make the viewer consciously aware of his own presence and how his thoughts, opinions, and assumptions dictate the art piece.  The intent is to initiate in the viewer a second-guessing of his original thoughts and attitudes that he brought to the piece, forcing him to question why he thinks the way he does.  My work utilizes the taken-for-granted structures we encounter in everyday life, and transforms them with, text, sarcasm, humor and philosophy to super-impose the opinions of the viewer back onto himself.  Ultimately my art is an attempt to blur the line between art and viewer, merging the two as one and the same.

            When a person comes to a gallery or museum to view a work of art, he brings to it a set of predetermined guidelines as to what will make the art piece a “good” one.  Brimming with information from a lifestyle submerged in popular visual culture, this viewer will ultimately attach his own circumstances, experiences, memories, and prefabricated notions of art to the object he views.    As John Berger points out in Ways of Seeing, “The way we see things is affected by what we know or believe… We never look at just one thing; we are always looking at the relation between things and ourselves” (Berger 8).  It is this relationship that my work utilizes.  A gallery or museum setting allows the viewer a certain amount of separation from the art object he views.  But what happens when the object is something from our everyday lives?  What happens when we must interact in order to see the art?  And finally, if one is consciously aware of his presence in the art, might he view the art more carefully?  My work plays off the notion that soon after we see, we are instantly aware that we can be seen.  My interest is in making the viewer the object of surveillance, forcing him to move throughout the installation in a careful and self-critical way. 

            In order for this dialogue between viewer and art to be successful, the concepts and media I use are carefully chosen.  Any imagery, color, shape, surface and title used will inevitably allow the viewer to attach various meanings to the art.  Julia Kristeva’s writings on semiotics (the study of signs, particularly in language) articulate the idea that the word, the meaning of that word, the actual object it signifies, and the culturally placed value on that object/word all carry different implications.  The most heavily weighted of all of these is the value placed by our culture on a given word/object. (Kristina 24)  By using solely the object, word, or definition of the word, I call attention to the fact that none of these are sufficiently covering the value the viewer has placed on the piece, thus asking the viewer to re-evaluate his misplacement of that idea on the art. 

        An example of this lies in this paper.  There is no doubt that the title “Intercourse” tainted the initial expectations of this paper with sexual overtones.  This is because this word has been misconstrued to mean something entirely sexual in our culture.  The culturally placed value dictated how the word was perceived without ever questioning it.  In reality, the definition of the word “intercourse” is simply “communication or interaction between two or more people.”  This accurately summarizes the body of work I have presented.   I have given the reader nothing to suggest sexuality in my work.  And still, the reading was there--- the expectation was there.

        Joseph Kosuth is an artist who also applies the ideas of semiotics to his art.  His piece titled “One and Three Chairs” from 1965 was directly concerned with this way of signifying ideas.  This work consisted of a chair, a photograph of that chair, and a Photostat definition of the word chair. (Kosuth 55)  This was done in an attempt to question which form of representation was the best embodiment of the idea of “chair,” and to show that all of them were somehow inadequate. 

            Kosuth’s works evolved to using strictly text on clean, minimal surfaces to convey an idea.  He did this because he felt that textual language was the most concrete way to convey an idea.

I, too, deliberately negate any blatant imagery or pictorial representation.  In my work, The Self Portrait Series, I comment on this issue of representation.  This piece consists of ten square mirrors, hung at a general eye-level.  The first mirror has the definition of “self” placed over it, and each successive mirror offers one word, such as self-indulgence, self-obsession, self-conceit, self-denial, etc.  The constant re-focusing of one’s eyes to block out his image in order to read the text, becomes disorienting, and as each mirror is read the viewer becomes increasingly aware of himself and starts to become annoyed with his constant presence.  Because the words invoke negative character traits onto the viewer, he becomes more concerned with his image, and is thereby more cautious about how he thinks of the art piece. The picture becomes the viewer, and vice versa.

         The intent was to free my work from the notion of the artist’s interpretation, and to introduce the power of the viewer’s interpretation.  Pictorial representations are often accepted to be an artist’s direct interpretation of the subject.  Text becomes a means of escaping this obviousness of the artist’s rendering.  It has been my experience that text is not a more concrete way of conveying a message, it is only assumed to be.  The written word is often taken to be more authoritative a voice, due largely to the presence of books as a means of reference through out history.  In actuality, text becomes a more abstract way of conveying ideas, because it is less tainted by the culturally placed attitudes that pictures so often bring.  I therefore use text as a means of adopting an authoritative voice to abstract certain preconceived thoughts in an attempt to create a new meaning through a concrete language system.  I eliminate the obvious presence of my interpretation.   It becomes strictly about art and viewer.  That is not to say that I have negated my presence from my work.  In fact my presence is meant to be strongly felt throughout the course of viewing the art.  The painting and printing processes I use help to achieve this.

        I use a printing technique known as xerography to introduce a human presence.  Xerography is a contemporary form of lithography, in which the principal mechanism lies in the fact that water and oil do not mix.  Using a Xerox photocopy as the printing plate, gum arabic, water and oil-based inks are applied until the ink adheres only to the black photocopy powder.  This is then pressed or brayed on the desired surface.  The transfer of the ink is rarely perfect, and the broken and faded imperfections suggest a human presence--- the artist’s presence.  This presence alongside the feelings of surveillance, makes “the watchful eye” become my own, alluding to a private dialogue between artist and viewer. 

     Simultaneously, I choose to paint all of the objects white. Any other color would make the pieces more dynamic visually and allow the viewer to attach further unnecessary meanings to the art.  White is the color of a clean slate—a blank page, so to speak—and allows me a fresh new surface on which to build.  Also, white is the accepted color of the pedestal in art museums and galleries, and I intend these objects to be merely the pedestals that hold the art.  Using white allows less focus to be placed on the object, and more focus to be placed elsewhere. That is not to say that my works are colorless.  The inks applied to the surfaces are often various shades of subdued colors--- colors that won’t dominate the piece.  This is to introduce the slight presence of an emotion, the artist’s emotion, instead of adopting an entirely textbook black text/white page feeling. These subtle colors allow a glimpse of an attitude without dominating the white object beneath.

      The objects I use in my work are common household items.  They are things that are familiar to everyone.  This idea of using everyday objects is certainly not a new one.  The found object has been professed as art by countless others as a way of questioning the notion of fine art.  Perhaps the most influential of these artists is Marcel Duchamp.  His art piece known as “Fountain,” is probably the most notorious use of the everyday object.   

Duchamp submitted this piece to the New York Independents Exhibition in 1917, under the pretense that any artist who paid five dollars could exhibit their work.  Duchamp submitted, “Fountain,” which was a common urinal, and signed it R. Mutt. (Freeman 20)  (Richard Mott was the manufacturer of those specific urinals.  Duchamp changed the name to Mutt—after the popular comic Mutt and Jeff) The urinal, or “sculpture” as Duchamp called it, was to be turned on its side so as to mimic a fountain, hence the title.  Even though he had paid the necessary five dollars, this sculpture was rejected and subsequently disappeared. (Freeman 21)  Duchamp responded by a letter, in which he wrote:

Mr. Richard Mutt sent in a fountain.

Now Mr. Mutt’s fountain is not immoral—that is absurd—

no more than a bathtub is immoral.  It is a fixture that you see

everyday in plumbers’ show windows.  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, and created a new thought for that object.

                                                                                                (Freeman 21)

When it was revealed that it was Marcel Duchamp who had sent in the urinal, a frenzy of questions arose.  They were questions as broad as “What is art?” to more pointed inquiries of “Does the artist’s identity determine how we view the art?”  These questions are highly important in my work as well.  In fact, it is because of Duchamp that the entire art world must subject themselves to these very questions. 

            Duchamp called his found objects “ready-mades.”  His ready-mades often relied on their inscriptions or titles to re-contextualize them—to make them assume a new function.   He also placed them in different positions so as to remove the original function.  The objects I use, however, rely entirely on their original function.  There is no re-contextualizing of that sort in my work.  Just the replacement of these objects in an art setting allows them to be viewed differently.  The original function of the piece is a key element in guiding the viewer through the interaction.  When confronted by a chest of drawers, the viewer knows to open them.  When confronted with chairs, the viewer knows to sit.  They become an unspoken set of directions.

        A simple example of this is my piece titled “One nightstand.”  This piece is simply what the title states--- one nightstand (the piece of furniture).  Printed on the top of the nightstand is “ feel free to peek in my drawers.”   The nightstand has two drawers.   Upon opening the top drawer, the viewer is confronted with “You have entered one nightstand in which a brief experience will leave you repulsed by or longing for more of the very thing that has rejected you…”  The second drawer does not open.

       The function of this piece relies on the understanding that the viewer would instinctively know what to do with the furniture (and instinctively misread the title to mean something else). Such objects, then, become a device to guide the audience to do precisely what the art intends.  It becomes less about the function of the object and more about the function of the audience.  I define the objects I use then as “devices.”

        In a broader spectrum, the device-like character of my work does not lie solely in the object forms I choose.  The printed text is also carefully chosen to refer to the object and the viewer all at once.  I incorporate the definitions of the chosen words, to further heighten the duality of the implications.  I find it greatly beneficial that words always have a second definition—the “other” function of the word, the other thing it could embody.  I utilize this often in my work to call attention to the fact that sometimes we read the wrong meaning of something, and never stop to think of what the other meaning could be.  Are definitions signifiers of meaning?  Do definitions really “define” things?  We often assume that these two are one and the same, and accept definitions as the ultimate answer to what a something means.  I utilize this in my work as well.

            By using words that are reflexive—that apply to object and viewer—there becomes a confrontational aspect to each piece.  This confrontation of art versus viewer is necessary to the function of the idea in my work.  Adrian Piper is a contemporary artist who utilizes confrontational stances in order to address and even attack the audience.  While her art often deals with issues of racial and sexual discrimination, she often creates situations meant to accuse the viewer of his racial prejudices and assumptions he draws not only about her art, but also about the artist behind the art.  Her installation “Cornered,” from 1988 is an excellent example of this.

         In this piece, there is a television placed in the corner of the room, barricaded by an overturned table.  In that corner and directly above the television, hangs her birth certificate on each wall.  Both are exactly the same, except one states she is white, and the other states she is black. (Adrian Piper is a very light-skinned black woman)  There are chairs placed out in front, facing the corner and inviting an audience to gather.  On the screen, Adrian Piper is addressing her audience.    The first thing she says is “I’m black.  Now lets deal with this social fact, and the fact of my stating it together.”(Piper 157)   She then takes the viewer through a series of if/then propositions, each one drawing off of a supposed response from the proposition before, leaving the audience feeling very defensive whether or not they made those assumptions. This ultimately disorients the audience from their thoughts making them question their thinking on the matter in general. (Piper 157)  In writing about her work as an artist, Piper said:

My work addresses an audience that is diverse in ethnicity and

gender.  I am particularly interested in grappling with the ‘who me?’

syndrome that infects the highly select and sophisticated audience

that typically views my work. But the work functions differently

depending on the composition of the audience.  Different individuals

respond in different and unpredictable ways that cut across racial,

ethnic, and gender boundaries. Some people align themselves with

the standpoint from which I offer the critique.  Others identify

themselves as the target of the critique.  Yet others feel completely

alienated by the whole enterprise.  There is no way telling in advance

whether any particular individual is going to feel attacked by my work,

or affirmed, or alienated by it.  So people sometimes learn something

about who they are by viewing my work.  For me, this is proof

of success.                 

                                                                        (Patton 249)

      By invoking a need to question in the audience, Piper hopes to initiate a re-evaluation.  My intent is similar, although much less threatening.  In fact, Piper’s installations are often highly confrontational, putting the viewer on the defensive.  Instead of being accusational, I choose to use an exploitational approach.  By simply calling attention to his own thoughts, and making the viewer uncomfortable by shifting the attention onto him, I hope to slightly embarrass the viewer into questioning and second-guessing his actions.  My works are confrontational in that they do address the audience, and make the viewer the object of art, but they are not meant to accuse or offend.  I deliver my ideas in a gag-like or punch line fashion to draw the viewer in despite the uncomfortable situations of the objects.  I want the audience to smile, chuckle, and even look forward to the next piece.

      This makes it important to consider each art piece in relation to the next.  All of my works are meant to function in conjunction with the next.  By doing so there allows to be a certain snowball effect--- each one gaining momentum from the last.  Some of the pieces are meant to fool the viewer, to foil his thought process as he interacts with the piece.  Some of the pieces will be more reflective and merely suggest a pondering of the ideas presented.  This could only heighten the second-guessing of the viewer as he moves from piece to piece, wondering which voice will dictate the next.  By initiating this skepticism in the viewer, it is hoped that he will become skeptical of his own thought process as he experiences each piece. 

Joseph Kosuth once said:

I think to be an artist now means to question the nature of art--- that’s

What being ‘creative’ means to me because that includes the whole

Responsibility as an artist as a person:  the social and political as

Well as the cultural implications of his or her activity.  To say that

The artist only makes high-brow craft for a cottage industry’s

Specialized market might satisfy the needs of this society from the

Point of view of some people, but it’s an insult to the valued remains

Of an ‘avant-garde’ tradition, and a denial to artists of their historical

Role.  And unless artists re-conceptualize their activity to include

Responsibility for re-thinking art itself, then all that is of value in art

Will be subsumed by the market, because then we will have lost the

Moral tool to keep art from becoming just another high-class business.

In any case, what is more creative than creating a new idea of what art is? 

And hasn’t the best art of this century been concerned with just this task?

                                                                                                            (Kosuth 57)

      While I agree with the importance of an artist questioning the function of her own art, through my work I argue that it is time that the viewer own up to his own responsibility.  I propose that it is time for the viewer to re-conceptualize their activity to include the responsibility of re-thinking art itself.  An artist can capture the viewer’s attention to make them look, but the act of “seeing” can only happen inside the viewer.  As artists, we can only give the audience the tools to aid this “sight” to happen.  That pivotal moment of realization is out of our reach.  We can communicate, but one must be open to communication.  In a talk entitled “The Creative Act,” Marcel Duchamp said, “All in all, the creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications and thus adds his own contribution to the creative act.”  (Freeman 23)   By breaking down unspoken pretenses--- pretenses that pre-fabricated systems of thinking create, my work— whether it is through objects, words, language, or one’s own presence--- is an attempt to allow this re-conceptualization to occur.  It’s purpose is to make the viewer think about the way he thinks about art—to accept his responsibility in the art-making process.

Works cited

Berger, John.  Ways of Seeing.  London:  Penguin Books, 1972.

Freeman, Judi et al.  The Dada and Surrealist Word-image.

            Cambridge:  The MIT Press, 1989.

Guercio, Gabriele.  Joseph Kosuth: Art After Philosophy and After.

            Cambridge: The MIT Press, 1991.

Patton, Sharon F.  African-American Art.  Oxford:

            Oxford University Press, 1998.

Piper, Adrian.  Out of Order, Out of Sight, Vol. 1.  Cambridge:

            The MIT Press, 1996.