Musicians, filmmakers and performing artists all invest a lot of time and money into writing, rehearsal, design, and sometimes character development and technology innovation. This investment can include hard costs and the time of dozens, or even hundreds, of people. For musicians and filmmakers, the fruits of their investment live on. The films and music can be copied and distributed, allowing their work to spread and even earn them a living. If the work is innovative or challenging, the places an audience can find it grow even narrower.

For performing artists, whose investments in time and money are similar, the art only lasts until the end of the show. You have to physically be there with the artists to experience it, and it’s not easily copied. This severely limits who can see the art – usually to sizable cities with performance venues. It also limits the artists ability to earn a living, or even recoup the investment they’ve made in creating the work.

On the Boards in Seattle has presented contemporary performance artists from around the world for over 30 years. Last week, it launched OnTheBoards.tv to present contemporary performances to wherever the audience might be. This is the first site of it’s kind to present complete, sometimes challenging, contemporary performances.

A trailer for Transition by Reggie Watts and Tommy Smith

Several years ago, On the Boards began documenting work in HD using five cameras. The final edit is performed with the cooperation of the artists. These HD videos are available for $5 rental (for 48 hours), or $15 to buy. There are also several subscription packages for the site, starting at $50 for a year of unlimited streaming, up to the educational subscription, allowing an entire institution unlimited streaming for $250. The earnings are split 50/50 with the artists. This is not as generous as other online splits (Apple’s is 30/70 in favor of artists), but On the Boards has been footing the $10,000 bill required to film and edit each performance. Having their shows professionally documented is also a huge benefit to artists. They can provide the online video as worksamples to other venues and funders, without the expense of filming, editing and producing DVDs.

So far there are eight artists represented at OnTheBoards.tv. Seven artists have full performances available, and one artist, Michelle Ellsworth, is delivering video directly online during a one year residency. On the Boards hopes to add 7-8 artists per year, and also hopes to partner with other organizations. PS-122 in New York is already a partner.

Alaska by Diana Szeinblums, shot at PS-122 in New York.

Documentation of many contemporary performances exists only in arts org archives and libraries with very restricted access. Even professional researchers and scholars have trouble accessing these videos and recordings. Especially for well-known and historically significant artists (e.g., Meridith Monk, John Cage, Laurie Anderson), opening this material up to a much wider audience is another goal of OnTheBoards.tv.

The site is new, so currently has a small sampling of work. Hopefully On the Boards will attract funding and partners to add more than 8 artists a year. Music rights remain a tricky obstacle to adding more work, as they are for many online video projects. Artists may clear rights for performances, but don’t have rights for online distribution. On the Boards has to clear music for each production, or the work can’t be included on the site. The bios, performance credits and other artist information is provided in PDF, which is helpful but would be better as a fully integrated part of the site.

Hi There by Melissa Ellsworth, a piece made available directly through the site, part of an OnTheBoards.tv artist in residence.

The basics behind this idea aren’t new. Similar projects have been tried, using DVD and VHS as distribution, and for other types of performance. The cheaper costs of internet delivery and it’s easier access for audiences now makes the idea much more feasible.

Many performing artists believe their art should only exist in the moment, that it’s somehow cheapened or made worse by capturing it, and creating the definitive performance of record. But audiences of the world will get more and more of their art on demand. TV, film and music all move this direction, and audiences will likely not go back. Expanding their audiences, and being able to earn a living so they can continue making work, is a new, amazing opportunity for artists. It doesn’t diminish the power of seeing the artist and the work in person. It just exponentially expands the possibility that someone will be able to see an artist’s work at all. Cumulatively, efforts like this will also give us a historical memory of contemporary performances, that all to often fade away completely.

The site was created with funding from the Wallace Foundation and Dance USA, to test new successful models for sustainably expanding audiences.

Artists on the Site

• Troubleyn | Jan Fabre
• Tanja Liedtke
• Young Jean Lee’s Theater Company
• Temporary Distortion
• Diana Szeinblum
• Reggie Watts | Tommy Smith
• Allen Johnson
• Michelle Ellsworth

Learn more

• OnTheBoards.tv
• Recording Staged Works for All the World to See – The New York Times
• PS-122
• Digital Theatre
• Metropolitan Opera, Live in HD

I’ve had friends who collected Star Wars toys and kept them in the original packaging to protect their value. This certainly protects the monetary value, but doesn’t it deprive you of getting everything out of that toy it was created for? If you want to spark your imagination, have a fun afternoon, and play with your friends, you need to rip open that package and start shooting storm troopers and levitating x-wings. It’s almost impossible to experience all the joy, fun, creativity and bonding with friends those toy-makers intended if you leave the toys in their package.

For much of the art in the world, you can look at it or listen to it and get everything the artist intended. It doesn’t matter if most paintings are behind glass, you can still see it just fine and get the full effect. Like a baseball card collector who keeps his cards in plastic sleeves, you can still see the cards just fine and enjoy them to their full effect. Their monetary value is still protected too.

But more and more contemporary art is created by artists who intend you to play with it. The full meaning and experience of the work requires you to interact, contributing your ideas and sometimes even physically building what the work becomes. This work needs to be touched for it to have any significant form, emotion and meaning.

Most museums and galleries are the stewards of the art in their collections. All objects are treated as historic artifacts, and must be maintained, restored, protected and studied. Museums must also protect all the money they’ve invested in building and maintaining the collection. Insurers, donors and the community, also understandably want to protect their own investments. Insurance rates may go up if art isn’t thoroughly protected from accidents, wear and theft. Many museums and galleries sometimes borrow work from other organizations. Obviously they want to return any work leant to them in the same condition it arrived, and want the same for their own work that’s been let out into the world.

Unfortunately, for that growing collection of contemporary artwork that gets its primary meaning, emotion and significance from interacting with it, keeping it locked behind glass isn’t good enough. Most museums and galleries have not caught up to this idea, even though this type of work has existed for almost a hundred years. All objects, regardless of the artist’s intent, are treated the same.

I first noticed this when I attended a Yoko Ono retrospective in the ’90s. In most of her work, Yoko gives direct instructions to be completed, sometimes completely in the reader’s imagination, other times interacting with objects she’s made. In this exhibition, though, there were guards and watchers in each room who would stop anyone from touching anything, even when Yoko’s instructions told you to. One example is Play It By Trust, a long table with 10 completely white chessboards. In Montreal, 2009, it happened as it should:

Yoko Ono’s idea of license, the setting up of a situation where others could complete a work of art instead of the artist, was a radical departure from the existing concept of the role of the artist. – Jon Hendricks

Yoko Ono’s work continues to cause interaction problems for museums. In August of this year, the Seattle Art Museum fired a security guard who interacted with Painting to Hammer a Nail In, a piece which asks you to hammer a nail into the painting. On the wall next to the painting was this text placed by the museum, along with a box of nails:

Museum visitors are invited to pound a nail into this painting. Like so
much of the work in this exhibition, while the idea might at first seem a
destructive, physically aggressive act against the accepted traditions of
painting and museums in general, in the end the concept opens up new
potentials for painting, and for bringing others besides the artist into
the creative act.

Yoko Ono herself poetically states her intentions.

What I’m trying to do is make something happen by throwing a pebble into the water and creating ripples…I don’t want to control the ripples. – Yoko Ono

In 1957, Paris, a group of “reactionary nihilist intellectuals” stormed a Dada exhibition and grabbed Man Ray’s piece titled Object to Destroy. They threw it on the ground and shot it with a pistol before police arrived and arrested them for doing just as the title commanded. Time Magazine wrote about the incident at the time in The Theater: Battle of the Nihilists.

How do we know what’s allowed and what isn’t? Should we do what the artist tells us or follow the rules of a museum? Who gets to decide? A simple, direct solution is presented by The Onion in Struggling Museum Now Allowing Patrons To Touch Paintings:

“Though it contains more than two million pieces and represents a profound legacy of artistic achievement, most people remain completely indifferent to our museum,” Met director Thomas P. Campbell said. “So we decided to try something a little different and give visitors a chance to experience our timeless works of art up close and personal.”

“You can’t grasp the brilliance of a great painting just by looking at it,” said Phil Brehm, 32, who acknowledged that he hadn’t set foot inside a museum since a mandatory field trip in high school. “To truly appreciate fine art, you need to be able to run your fingers over its surface and explore its range of textures.”

“Or just rub your face all over it, like I do,” Brehm added.

Of course, In the real world, I hope for a middle ground. Museums need to determine which pieces derive a large part of their meaning and significance from interaction. For these pieces, the museum’s primary purpose should no longer be to simply protect their objects. They must protect the full artistic experience, so that people can feel for themselves the art’s purpose and meaning.

One museum that gets this is the Tate Modern. I visited several years ago and found the five-story swirly-slide by artist Carsten Höller. Laughter echoed around the large room as people slid down the tubes.

In 1971, the Tate exhibited a very interactive artwork, Bodyspacemotionthings, by artist Robert Morris. After only four days, and many splinters and bruises, the artwork was broken by all the interaction and then closed. Last May, a new version of the work was exhibited, and this is what it looked like:

Even knowing the potential for destruction, possibly higher insurance rates and injured patrons, Tate did it anyway.

So what’s the answer? And why should we care?

I forgot to mention that I had lots of Star Wars toys when I was growing up. I played with them all the time. They ended up with broken arms, unrecognizable dog-chewed heads, peeling paint and caked-in mud. Every dent and scrape added more to their made-up history in my imagination, making them even more fun and interesting. Today, I no longer have them. If I did, I certainly couldn’t sell them for any money. No one would want them.

I don’t want irreplaceable, important parts of our history destroyed. But in the museum’s Star Wars collector zeal, preserving every piece of art behind plastic and glass, we lose the art’s spirit, we lose it’s importance, the very reason it’s worth collecting to begin with. And the people visiting this work are disconnected from it. They don’t get it, shrug and move on. This is the very work that has the most potential to deeply connect with people in our modern world.

I think there must be a middle way.
Maybe museums can have artists build two copies of each work. One to protect for value and history, the other to take out of the box, to get dirty and broken. That’s what the most passionate toy collectors do.

Read more:

• Time Magazine, The Theater: Battle of the Nihilists, April 1957
• Yoko Ono’s Official Site
• More about Man Ray
• What is Conceptual Art?
• The Seattle Art Museum
• The Stranger Slog, Dear Yoko: This is an Intervention
• Tate Modern, Bodyspacemotionthings
• BBC, What Closed Tate’s 1971 Art Show?
• Artists Robert Morris and Carsten Höller

Buy stuff:

• Yoko Ono
• Man Ray
• Dadaism and Dada
• Carsten Höller
• the Tate Modern
• Star Wars toys

Related posts:

1. Zoom Into Every Brush Stroke of Art History’s Masterpieces
2. Artist Astronauts, Artist Cosmonauts, Artists in Space
3. Every Art Museum Needs a Five Story Swirly-Slide

Conceptual Art relies on ideas (concepts) and audience participation for it’s effectiveness, where many other kinds of art rely more on the object, and the skill the artist used to create it.

The New York Times asks Has Conceptual Art Jumped the Shark?

…conceptual art after Duchamp reminds me of paging through old New Yorker cartoons. Jokes about Cadillac tailfins and early fax machines were once amusing, and the same can be said of conceptual works like Piero Manzoni’s 1962 declaration that Earth was his art work, Joseph Kosuth’s 1965 “One and Three Chairs” (a chair, a photo of the chair and a definition of “chair”) or Mr. Hirst’s medicine cabinets. Future generations, no longer engaged by our art “concepts” and unable to divine any special skill or emotional expression in the work, may lose interest in it as a medium for financial speculation and relegate it to the realm of historical curiosity.

I think the premise of the story – that conceptual art doesn’t have good resale value – is sound. It’s hard to determine a piece’s monetary value when the object itself isn’t where the value lies. Because the artistic merit of something as etheral as an idea is very subjective and changes through time, how will you have any idea what it’s worth? This is in contrast to an object, good idea or not, that is created with a great deal of skill and effort. Even if the idea is a bad one, or whose merit fades over time, the high level of craft will likely still be appreciated.

This really raises the question – how should conceptual artists make a living? Those New Yorker cartoonists still get paid to create cartoons, even though the cartoons might not have the same impact 20 years from now. I’m sure some are understood to have a cultural lifespan. Yet their current value is still understood, and artists are paid. If this is true, that some conceptual art has concepts which have a lifespan, how can artists pay for their livelihood and efforts just like those cartoonists?

I have some ideas, but what do you think?

Books on conceptual art.

Related posts:

1. “Please Don’t Touch the (Touchable) Art.”
2. Mechanical Turk, Mechanical Art, Mechanical People

In a series of short flashes, either by flashlight or hand signals or other means, Yoko Ono would like you to flash in this sequence: 1 flash. 2 flashes. 3 flashes. Which now means I Love You. Flash it from rooftops, from ships at sea, at parties and clubs, across a shop, to people on the street from a bus, spread love to all the people you encounter.

i.
ii.
iii.
I.
Love.
You.

Get the work of Yoko Ono.

Visit her official site.

Related posts:

1. Learning to Love You More – Miranda July, Harrell Fletcher and The Oliver Family

The Computer Chronicles series ran for 20 years, covering the new and ever-changing world of computers for a broad audience.

In 1987, they presented a show titled Computers and the Arts.

Related posts:

1. United States Candidates – positions on The Arts

As with Parkour, Yamakasi and Freerunning, here is another endeavor that blurs the line between performance art and sport.

New suits that give the wearers the aerodynamics of sugar-gliders or flying squirrels allow people to do flying feats never seen before. Currently people must tackle landing with a parachute, but flyer and basejumper Jeb Corliss is trying to change that. Watch this incredible video.

Flying:

Jeb Corliss basejumping:

Read the related story from the New York Times.

I have all kinds of crazy dreams. I’ve had one of them for a long time, and I’ve never told anyone about it until now. Even for me it’s a nutty one. My secret dream was to be the first artist in space.

I had such a strong desire for this, I think, because all of our missions to space are so technical or militaristic. Yet if you’ve ever known anyone working in space travel (like NASA), you know how poetic they can be. My dream to be an artist in space is nowhere near as crazy as actually trying to get anyone into space at all. There is a certain long term humanity, a looking back on ourselves as a whole, a historic something that runs through these spaceborne intentions — from astronauts and engineers alike. Somehow though, that all gets lost. This is exactly the kind of thing artists explore. For much the same reasons artists are sent into combat, they should be sent into space. (And if you’re asking why do we go at all, isn’t there something better to spend money on? the answer in the short term is always yes. But long term, our planet’s species, including our own, have a much higher chance of surviving if we become interplanetary. This is covered in The Drake Equation.)

My heart skipped a beat when first hearing Laurie Anderson had been chosen as the first artist in residence for NASA. She’s the perfect candidate for this. Unfortunately when she asked “Do I get to go up?!” the answer was “No.” Sadly, she was the first and last NASA artist in residence. Representative Chris Chocola introduced and passed a bill specifically prohibiting NASA from having an artist in residence.

Little did I know that the first artists in space had already travelled long ago. The first was Russian cosmonaut Alexey Leonov in 1965 and the second was United States astronaut Alan Bean in 1969. Up until writing this post, I didn’t know that a small tile artwork titled The Moon Museum by Andy Warhol, Robert Rauschenberg, Claus Oldenberg and John Chamerlain was left on the moon by the crew of Apollo 12. There have been many other artist cosmonauts since then, of many nationalities, and many pieces of art flown into space.

This is in fact such a frequently pondered idea that there are several non-profits in existence solely to get artists into space programs throughout the world and get artists creating work for the context of space travel.

And Tate Modern, one of the top museums in the world, has plans in motion to create it’s next museum location in Earth orbit.

Organizations exploring art and artists in space: The MIR Network, The OURS Foundation at Ars Astronautica, and Tate Modern Space.

A great list of artwork taken to or created in space.

Artist-Astronaut: What the Future Told Us, a project by artist Debra Solomon.

Two blogs by on duty combat artists: Fire and Ice and Sketchpad Warrior.

In the Press: The Globe and Mail – Greetings, art lovers. We come in peace and The Times UK – Blast off: artistic adventures in time and space.

Buy related work: In the Stream of Stars: The Soviet-American Space Art Book (by Alexey Leonov and others), Apollo : An Eyewitness Account By Astronaut/Explorer Artist/Moonwalker by Alan Bean, Baghdad Journal: An Artist in Occupied Iraq, by combat artist Steve Mumford, They Drew Fire – a documentary about combat artists in World War II; and work by Laurie Anderson.

Travel to space on Virgin Galactic or Space Adventures.

Related posts:

1. Update on Art and Artists in Space
2. City Hostel, Seattle – Every Room by a Different Artist
3. OnTheBoards.tv – Performance Art On-Demand

In the late ’80s, Czechoslovakia became a democratic state, and in 1993 peacefully separated into two countries – the Czech Republic and Slovakia. With democracy came capitalism and advertising, and with capitalism and advertising came The Hypermarket. Hypermarkets are the world’s superstores, selling shoes and spinach, pipe wrenches and pumpkins, all you would need to buy under one roof. Compared to the scarcity of goods in the pre-capitalist Czechoslovakia, this abundance was a big change.

Just like people in other countries had become critical of rampant consumerism and advertising eroding their culture, many Czechs felt the same way.

Two filmmakers created a fake advertising campaign, including radio, tv, sales flyers, posters and a web site, to promote the new hypermarket named Czech Dream – Cesky Sen. They announced a location and an opening day; built a huge fake storefront in a field, made of a tarp and scaffolding; and 3,000 people showed up. They filmed the whole thing, from inception, ad design, recording the theme song, filming the commercials, to the day 3,000 people standing in front of them found out they had been lied to.

The film is well made, but like many odd art events, the real art happened in the field that morning with those 3,000 people. The film just documents creating that art.

Controversy about the film and the ad campaign stretched all the way to the Czech Parliament and Prime Minister. Government arts funding had been used to make the film (and the fake ad campaigns), which outraged a lot of people. Supporters of the film argued this was no different than the government’s expenses for the huge “join the European Union” ad campaign. Both were advertising an ideology, it was better to also show a contrary view. (Joining the European Union, because of easier trade with other EU nations, was thought by many Czechs to be a huge unwanted step towards materialism and consumerism.)

Like Adbusters, The Yes Men, and some Michael Moore films, the artists set up circumstances that most clearly show the point they want to make. The set up is what usually gets people really riled up, because people feel manipulated, and the films no longer retain an illusion of neutrality. (Documentaries are rarely neutral. How up front a film is about its bias varies.) They’re big, social, political practical jokes.

Lessons of the film: 1. Advertising is bad. 2. Buying things won’t make you happy. 3. Standing outside in a field on a sunny day is much better than going to a mall.

Buy something about anti-consumerism:
Czech Dream (US DVD release date December 4, 2007)
Words by Adbusters and founder Kalle Lasn
Work by Michael Moore