People who live in their heads are in danger of early eviction. Their body sends a rent overdue notice: You’re flabby. You’re winded. You lack the stamina to hold Heidegger in your hands. From Chris Burden to Carolee Schneerman, performance artists in the early 1970s addressed the peril of ignoring flesh to concentrate on mind, which is, after all, another kind of flesh.
Our bodies, ourselves: In the 21st century, the legacy of 1970s
performance continues to flourish. Take Jason Hirata. Making abstract
art is hard work.
For his current exhibit at the James Harris Gallery, Hirata (left) asked Harris (right) to join him in a storage facility rented for the purpose. They jump roped, sat up, pushed up and ran in the hallway to produce the sweat the artist and dealer collected from their foreheads, backs and necks.
Hirata mixed the liquid in each container with raw Prussian blue pigment to make paired drawings – one using his own liquid as a base and the other using his dealer’s. Although Hirata says he hopes that the quality of the line is not the focus of the work’s attraction, it is the line that makes the project work. Ghostly, vulnerable, his drawings show up to the best of their exhausted ability, leaving an impression that’s barely there but won’t go away.
diamond(Hirata), 2010 Sweat and pigment on paper 11 3/8″ x 14 1/2″
diamond(Harris), 2010 Sweat and pigment on paper 11 3/8″ x 14 1/2″
Through March 27.
ewwwww not hot
26 crops of sweat between the two of em. One deop per circle, Workin hard, or hardly workin. Either way, it doesnt work for me.
Ha ha ha. Note to self: File this for another piece of art satire.