internet slut.
BGK on tumblr:
http://babygirlkriegbaum.tumblr.com/
(shits and giggles)
BGK featured via MILK/J.T. on vimeo:
MILK II from Jordan Taylor on Vimeo.
(one of many)
End of Term (First Year Exhibition)
"BGK Makes and Installation I --or-- OMFG A MUTHERFUCKING METAPHOR"
Mixed-media installation, Baby Girl Kriegbaum 2011
Hanna Umin
Second Term Evaluative Report
Seeing my year's work, most of it at least, in a single place, and as a single substance, is something which I feel has been a huge benefit. The "willy-nilly" approach mentioned in my last evaluation has, in a way, been a series of ongoing experiments to find a way to place every facet, every goal of my work into a single canvas or frame, which is an ambition I now can let go of.
Baby Girl Kriegbaum, a pseudonym deriving from a hospital's formula for legally filing an unnamed baby, is an expression of the transient nature of character; a label and a logo, as well as a hidden stamp referring to the esoteric, personal nature behind an otherwise thick-skinned body of work. As someone who has not only moved place, but also family, and life, multiple times over the course of a short(and young) existence, I've found R.B. Kitaj's Diasporist Manifesto extremely relatable. Living off manna yet buying myself root-vegetables, Kitaj's explanation of the artist-nomad's adaptive yet discomforted qualities, of the tension underneath his dried paint, has perhaps given me a degree of insight regarding the interchangable nature of my pieces, and their dependancies upon one another: nothing is precious, but all is collected. I doubt my work will ever be polished in the "gallery-ready", professional sense--my attitudes considering cleanliness and stability are permanently defeatist-- but what I can do is learn to utilize my mess. Instead of marketing an object, I am marketing a name and an aesthetic which is slowly but surely accumulating, and my "nook" feels like the first experiment with and manifestation of this phenomenon.
Submission is a form of dominance; the self-deprecating joke hints at an awareness and control which forces the user up in the social hierarchy of a conversation. Therefore, it is also an act of desperation. An installation is an art-world gimmick.
By sectioning off my work, I am not following in the political footsteps of the installation's original purpose, to more "actively involve" the viewer in a piece. My work is as two-dimensional as it ever was. I am also quite obviously not attempting to close it off from a gallery context or claim some form of autonomy from contemporary culture. It is merely an attempt to saturate the viewer in an aesthetic, to create a hot-house of conflicts and similarities, an environment damp and dirty enough to support an ecosystem. I am literally and figuratively creating a niche, pushing a style.
With love,
Baby Girl Kriegbaum.
Details:
Details:
dead bird studies
a couple of A4 studies for a later painting(yet to be photographed). Currently/indefinitely untitled. Acrylics, PVA, xerox, tinfoil. Baby Girl Kriegbaum.
anxiety!
EW EW EW going to have to break in a new sketchbook soon. Hate hate hate hate doing that, gives ya the wrongfingers, you know, when you're drawing and you feel like you have the wrongfingers?
Anyway, here's a nice comforting Dadaist quote to wipe the tears away:
"The Dadaist exploits the psychological possibilities inherent in his faculty for flinging out his personality as one flings a lasso or lets a cloak flutter in the wind. He is not he same man today as tomorrow, the day after tomorrow he will perhaps be 'nothing at all' and then he may become everything. He is entirely devoted to the movement of life, he accepts its angularity--but he never loses his distance to phenomena, because at the same time he preserves his creative indifference, as Friedlaender-Myona calls it. It seems scarcely credible that anyone could be at the same time active and at rest, that he should be devoted, yet maintain an attitude of rejection; and yet it is in this anomaly that life consists, naive, obvious life, with its indifference toward happiness and death, joy and misery. The Dadaist is naive. The thing he is after is obvious, undifferentiated, unintellectual life. For him a table is not a mousetrap and an umbrella is definitely not to pick your teeth with. In such a life art is no less than a psychological problem. In relation to the masses it is a phenomenon of public morality" Richard Huelsenbeck, Dada Forward
Anyway, here's a nice comforting Dadaist quote to wipe the tears away:
"The Dadaist exploits the psychological possibilities inherent in his faculty for flinging out his personality as one flings a lasso or lets a cloak flutter in the wind. He is not he same man today as tomorrow, the day after tomorrow he will perhaps be 'nothing at all' and then he may become everything. He is entirely devoted to the movement of life, he accepts its angularity--but he never loses his distance to phenomena, because at the same time he preserves his creative indifference, as Friedlaender-Myona calls it. It seems scarcely credible that anyone could be at the same time active and at rest, that he should be devoted, yet maintain an attitude of rejection; and yet it is in this anomaly that life consists, naive, obvious life, with its indifference toward happiness and death, joy and misery. The Dadaist is naive. The thing he is after is obvious, undifferentiated, unintellectual life. For him a table is not a mousetrap and an umbrella is definitely not to pick your teeth with. In such a life art is no less than a psychological problem. In relation to the masses it is a phenomenon of public morality" Richard Huelsenbeck, Dada Forward
CUBE!!
- A-la wikiquotes:
- Worth: Holloway, you don't get it.
- Holloway: Then help me, please. I need to know.
- Worth: This may be hard for you to understand, but there is no conspiracy. Nobody is in charge. It's a headless blunder operating under the illusion of a master plan. Can you grasp that? Big Brother is not watching you.
Massive fan of this film.
- Quentin: Why put people in it?
- Worth: Because it's here. You have to use it, or you admit it's pointless.
- Quentin: But it is pointless!
- Worth: Quentin, that's my point.
glasspane push shoot-- 2010
Hot chicks with existential issues.
Thanks to me models Helen and Alex("shorts")
Paul Klee is a wizard.
"Art is like Creation: it hold good on the last day as on the first.
What my art probably lacks is a kind of passionate humanity. I don't love animals and every sort of creature with an earthly warmth. I don't descend to them or raise them to myself. I tend rather to dissolve into the whole of creation and am then on a footing of brotherliness to my neighbor, to all things earthly. I possess. The earth-idea gives way to the world-idea. My love is distant and religious.
Everything Faustian is alien to me. I place myself at a remote starting-point of creation, whence I state a priori formulas for men, beasts, plants, stones, and the elements, and for all the whirling forces. A thousand questions subside as if they had been solved. Neither orthodoxies nor heresies exist there. The possibilities are too endless, and the belief in them is all that lives creatively in me.
Do I radiate warmth? Coolness?? There is no talk of such things when you have got beyond white heat. And since not too many people reach that state, few will be touched by me. There is no sensuous relationship, not even the noblest, between myself and the many. In my work I do not belong to the species, but I am a cosmic point of reference. My earthly eye is too farsighted and sees through and beyond the most beautiful things. 'Why, he doesn't even see the most beautiful things,' people then say about me.
Art imitates creation. And neither did God especially bother about nonessentials"-- Diary entry 958(1915), Paul Klee
he continues: "...SHAZAAM, BITCHES!"
counterpoint:
"Believe it or Not I am Exceptionally Capable of Empathy" Acrylics, PVA, teabags. BGK.
What my art probably lacks is a kind of passionate humanity. I don't love animals and every sort of creature with an earthly warmth. I don't descend to them or raise them to myself. I tend rather to dissolve into the whole of creation and am then on a footing of brotherliness to my neighbor, to all things earthly. I possess. The earth-idea gives way to the world-idea. My love is distant and religious.
Everything Faustian is alien to me. I place myself at a remote starting-point of creation, whence I state a priori formulas for men, beasts, plants, stones, and the elements, and for all the whirling forces. A thousand questions subside as if they had been solved. Neither orthodoxies nor heresies exist there. The possibilities are too endless, and the belief in them is all that lives creatively in me.
Do I radiate warmth? Coolness?? There is no talk of such things when you have got beyond white heat. And since not too many people reach that state, few will be touched by me. There is no sensuous relationship, not even the noblest, between myself and the many. In my work I do not belong to the species, but I am a cosmic point of reference. My earthly eye is too farsighted and sees through and beyond the most beautiful things. 'Why, he doesn't even see the most beautiful things,' people then say about me.
Art imitates creation. And neither did God especially bother about nonessentials"-- Diary entry 958(1915), Paul Klee
he continues: "...SHAZAAM, BITCHES!"
counterpoint:
 |
| (I apologize for the photo quality) |
"Believe it or Not I am Exceptionally Capable of Empathy" Acrylics, PVA, teabags. BGK.
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