From Cory Arcangel’s Working on My Novel.
I wonder whether there will ever be enough tranquility under modern circumstances to allow our contemporary Wordsworth to recollect anything. I feel that art has something to do with the achievement of stillness in the midst of chaos. A stillness that characterizes prayer, too, and the eye of the storm. I think that art has something to do with an arrest of attention in the midst of distraction. —Saul Bellow, the Art of Fiction No. 37, 1966
Cory Arcangel’s new book, Working on My Novel—based on the Twitter feed of the same name—is a compilation of tweets from people who are putatively at work on novels. No more, no less. On Twitter, this concept feels merely clever; printed and bound as a novel would be, though, it becomes a vexed look at novels’ position in the culture, and a sad monument to distraction.
War Bride by Clarence Holbrook Carter, 1940 © Estate of Clarence Carter. Photo Credit: Richard Stoner.
Things said infrequently to the Curator of Fine Arts: “We need to talk about marriage.”
As we begin Art Tracks, one of the first tasks is identifying each person, or party, who was involved in the transfer, movement, and custody of an artwork before it came to Carnegie Museum of Art.
Then we have to build a timeline of each party’s movements over their lifetime, and associate a distinct location identifier for each movement. Currently, we’re using Geonames as our authority, though the Getty Thesaurus of Geographic Names (TGN) just became linked-open-data. Using an authority helps us be explicit that we’re talking about the Paris in France, and not Paris, Ontario, Paris, Texas, or Paris, Togo. Continue reading
What is your official title, and what are some of your general responsibilities?
Multimedia Producer. I plan, shoot, and edit videos that can be found in and around CMOA’s exhibitions and on the museum’s Vimeo channel. These videos include event documentation and original works like the Hillman Photography Initiative’s Invisible Photograph series. I also work closely with my supervisor Jeff Inscho to help organize and archive the museum’s digital assets.
What were you doing before joining us at CMOA?
In May I graduated from the Filmmaking Intensive at Pittsburgh Filmmakers. I’ve since been freelancing and was fortunate enough to intern with CMOA’s Multimedia Department. I’ve also spent the last two years working in a photo lab. Yes, people still shoot on film. Yes, people take ‘selfies’ with disposable cameras. Continue reading
Inside the digital media lab of Carnegie Museum of Art. Click to enlarge image. Photo: Jeffrey Inscho.
The Digital Media Lab at Carnegie Museum of Art is attempting to structure provenance and exhibition history data so curators, scholars, and software developers can create dynamic visualizations that answer impossible questions—and we’ve assembled a talented team to do it. But of course that’s a fairly simplified explanation of the project. To better understand exactly what we are looking to accomplish, I need to delve deeper.
For instance, have you ever wondered how artworks arrive at a museum? I’m not talking about the physical logistics of art object transportation, but rather the journey over time and space that artworks make to arrive at a particular museum at a particular moment in time? Continue reading
A selection from Nick Marshall’s _e_scapes series.
How will people share photographs with their grandchildren in the 2060s?
Assuming we still have eyes and hands in the 2060s, this question might be important. Perhaps we’ll be sharing imagery straight to each other’s optic nerves. Or maybe millennials will be clutching faded mini lab prints, trudging across a post-apocalyptic landscape. I’m exaggerating of course, but the possibility exists that “sharing” a “photograph” is not a perennial human activity. It’s all about definitions.
Consider this: our histories, personal or otherwise, are affected by how we transmit them. At the risk of sounding paranoid, I think the conversion of physical things to binary numbers is worth investigating—because we might not fully appreciate the benefits and costs. In fact, when talking about photographs, I don’t think it’s useful to divide them along the fault lines of “analog versus digital” anymore. Instead, I’d like to suggest something more meaningful. Tactile and non-tactile. Isn’t that more relevant to what’s happening around us? It certainly opens up more intellectually fertile areas; a new way to shuffle an old deck of cards.