by E. Tage Larsen

Welcome. Placement was a website that turned a critical eye on culture, with an emphasis on the importance of integrity in process over product. It published frequently from March 28th, 2005 through February 18th, 2006. In its eleven months of activity, Placement provided original content by independent voices – something the internet is particularly good offering but which blogs don’t seem to be very good at maintaining. Please take a moment to take a look within our archives.

I would like to thank to the many readers that have found their way to Placement over this past year. I’d also like to thank the writers and technicians that have helped bring additional color to this site.

In closing, I would specifically like to thank the following people whose support has been very vocal and often more important than they are aware: Lauren Cerand, Lorenzo Ciacci and Alyson Dykes, Geoff Manaugh, Andy Rutledge, Benjamin Schicker, Rob Shields and Anne Galloway, Mark Hurst, Michael and Tamara Surtees, Alex Trevi, Kathleen Tyler and Gary Couillard, and Edward Winkleman.

Very sincerely,

E. Tage Larsen


Designers Designing Design

by E. Tage Larsen

Would it be too strong to say that I hate the AIGA's message? I don't think so. The national office's necrotic preening has resulted in a corpulent haze and professional hijacking-upholding its mantra of ‘90s styled loose dynamism and a voice steeped in slippery frippery. Recently it scuttled its own honest acronym of "AIGA: American Institute of Graphic Arts," into the now arbitrary "AIGA: the professional association for design." All hail "PAD."

Browsing the current issue of "W," I was rewarded by a sentiment similar to my own expressed by backspace author Louise J. Esterhazy. In her list of concerns for the new year, Ms. Esterhazy notes that her portion of the design world is also steeped in a heady tea of career-aggrandizement. "Fashion Designers: Do they want to be designers or something else? Social butterflies? Bankers? TV stars? What happened to just making beautiful clothes that women want to wear?"

By extrapolation, what’s wrong with Graphic Arts?

In a recent essay, Andy Rutledge discusses the need to simplify the messy inner-life of the designer/client relationship with an argument towards selling your product, rather than your drama. It's an argument which is symptomatic of the confusion foisted on design-at-large. From Rutledge’s Design Process he states,”[The] client is not purchasing process. They’re purchasing the expertise and successful track record of an individual or team. They’re purchasing your attention, education and ability. They’re purchasing the result, not the journey. And that’s how it must be. No use agonizing over the fact that the awesomely perfect something came to mind twenty minutes after your meeting – or, for that matter, after 84 hours of mind-numbing, excruciating design work.”


In Appreciation of Saul Leiter

by E. Tage Larsen

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T, Saul Leiter, 1959

I could not have greater love for the Saul Leiter show that opens tonight in the Fuller Building. The exhibition is online at Howard Greenberg Gallery. Leiter is an Ab-Ex painter that gave up the brush for photography. The images not only show a New York now long gone but one with a composure and zeal that will never be replaced.

While in Miami, I had the good fortune to discuss the show with Karen Marks, of the gallery. If you stop in, please say "hi" for me. She's a doll.


Decking the Halls with Bouts of Folly

by E. Tage Larsen

So you're going to be in New York in 2006, nothing to do, and you need to look at some "young" anti-war, pornographic, Canadian or Los Angelino art work that may mostly be either photography or video when it's not occasionally audio, sculpture, and at times begrudgingly painting - then you're going to need to catch the 6 train and head uptown because the Whitney Biennial is the place for you.

Already names are being called, and hair has been pulled, over who will be who next year. The Whitney has just announced the list of artists to be represented in the coming collection. To follow, we're offering you an early look at what's to come.

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Whereism

by E. Tage Larsen

I was out sailing on the Long Island Sound about a month ago. It was cold and blustery in anticipation of Hurricane Wilma which was at that time pasting Florida and skipping its way into the Atlantic. At two points my novice self and crew were in difficulty. Gusting winds of 25+ knots buffeted the 21 foot boat in a frothy sea under too much sail.

Once, the boat was caught between a buoy and the leeward shore as it heeled over hard then stalled--as we rounded into irons, or dead into the wind with no momentum to get ourselves out. The second time was on the far side of Hart Island where, for hours, we were tacking into the wind in order to get back to our mooring. We were being blown into a shipping lane with 45,000 ton tankers gently strolling behind us. At one point, in frustration I looked off the stern of the boat and noticed a seagull floating easily in our wake.

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Sixty Days at the End of the World

by E. Tage Larsen

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“Think of a fast-moving, highly contagious disease that wipes out 5% of the world population (950 million people). Half a million of them in the U.S. …bodies pile up in the streets. There aren’t enough morticians to bury the dead. Nor are there enough doctors and nurses to tend to the sick. The churches close, the schools shut. Telecommunications and transportation grind to a halt. The public succumbs to hysteria and panic. Police protection fails. Order decays. Productivity dives.’

“Sounds like a scene from a science fiction film, doesn’t it? But what if I told you, it already happened? What if I told you it was the pandemic flu that swept across America and around the globe in 1918? Or, if I told you that this glimpse into the past might be a preview to our future. An avian flu pandemic is no longer a question of if, but a question of when.” – Sen. Majority Leader Bill Frist, M.D., Address at Princeton University, 11-18-05


Perhaps it’s because of good fortune and alacrity that we collectively dodged the SARS bullet a few years ago and also why the present hew and cry about the H5N1 virus seems like some distant concern, or worse - media frenzy… so “Summer-of-the-Shark”. The world audience is still nursing its wounds and replaying the real-life disaster films from this past year.

Officially the death toll for H5N1 is still short of 100, with only a few human-to-human transmissions. Unofficially, investigators speculate that the cost in rural China alone is past 300.


Cathy: Mitch, why are they doing this, the birds?
Mitch: We don't know, honey.
Cathy: Why are they trying to kill people?
Mitch: I wish I could say.

- from Alfred Hitchock’s “The Birds”, 1963.


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23:56:07

by E. Tage Larsen

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My friend (and former colleague) Kevin Lo has just released issue seven of his online magazine, Four Minutes to Midnight. Lo and his partners believe strongly in activism on a personal scale via the arts. This publication continues to investigate art, design, typography, photography and the place of self in a global tide.

The current release also marks the beginning of their publishing empire as number seven begins Four Minutes to Midnight as a printed entity. I believe they are open to submissions. You may download the entire issue at 11:56:07. It's best enjoyed printed.


Nowhere in Particular

by E. Tage Larsen

“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to see a movie?”
“OK.”
“Which movie would you like to see: there are four playing now.”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you just prefer to go home?”
“OK.”

A scene not unlike the hallmark footage from the Ernest Borgnine movie “Marty” where two barflies trade rehearsed pleasantries, however this particular exchange was a variant on many which played similarly over this past weekend when my step-brother came for a visit. Aside, from being an exceptionally bright boy, I imagine he is a pretty typical fourteen-year-old: scruffy, attracted to skateboarding, and a natural but unholy obsession with acquiring an “I “heart” NY” thong for his Baptist girlfriend.

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Letters 10.5.05

by E. Tage Larsen

&bullJuse: …a statement against Nike. &bull Harry : Honestly no one, not even the NY Times, put it into such perfect context as you. &bull Geoff Manaugh: of BldgBlog recommends additional mining sites.

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Somebody Else's Hiatus

by E. Tage Larsen

Presently caught between three things in addition to this writing. First, Salander-O'Reilly Galleries (my primary employer) has finally launched its new location for old master painting and sculpture. Roger Kimball of the "New Criterion" lovingly writes up the new space in today's Wall Street Journal. Leigh Morse and I will continue to represent Modernism at our original location at 79th street. It's been a taxing month. Secondly, Jury Duty has kept me firmly away from anything amusing during the day time. I appreciate that this task will be over shortly. Finally, My nights are colored with a last minute packaging job for a beverage company in Los Angeles.

Please expect things to return to a greater semblance of normalcy next week – that of course being highly subjective.


Places of Everyday Suffering

by E. Tage Larsen

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A few years ago, I wrote a memoriam of my experiences on 9/11, in an attempt to meet head-on my anger and melancholy. This fourth anniversary reminds me of that history: the days of confusion; months of sorrow; and years of daily life that are so close to normalcy but never again the same. I’m no more secure in my uneasiness of that day and the little trauma that is brought to my doorstep early each September since.

New York is as home as anywhere I’ve lived in the past. At thirty-five years of age, I’ve probably moved over forty times. My New York experience has always been devoid of any suburban outlet. By that I mean that the tall, tight, urban lifestyle defines so much of the activity without any expansive miles of monotonous housing developments or middleclass glades. The different communities here are as quickly divided by intersections as they are by subway stops and rivers. I’ve been fortunate enough to live in a number of different local communities. Presently, I reside in Harlem.

I wanted to bring attention to memorials and shared experiences.

“It was a reminder for everyone. Something happened here. Somebody gave a life here.” - Aliina Granholm, from Deborah Sharp’s “Battles Over Roadside Shrines More Common” in the USA Today.

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One Hundred Years Towards Hell

by E. Tage Larsen

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At two and a half miles wide and three-quarters of a mile deep, the Bingham Copper Mine is an extraordinary hole. It is so large, in fact, that it is one of only a few manmade objects viewable from the Shuttle in orbit. Presently its bottom rests at 4,600 feet above sea level. If consumption of excavated material maintains its historical average, the Bingham site will continue to be mined down to 100 feet above sea level, or at least another hundred and fifty years, resulting in at least 10 billion tons of additional material removed.

I had two reasons for visiting: taking an obvious look at the relationship of man, nature and industry; secondly, reflecting on place against a now familiar position that place is the location of site and sentimentality.

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Robert Smithson's Boiling Curve

by E. Tage Larsen

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“Through the vaporous abstraction of Box Elder County Utah, I beheld a wide expanse of lake whose waters were so bloody a hue as to bring to mind a landscape of unspeakable carnage. Yet at the same time a voluptuous calm prevailed. A voluminous languor coupled with a foreboding sense of menace produced a gyratory dimension.” – Robert Smithson,

The words above belong to a notebook on spirals written by Robert Smithson now at the Archives of American Art. His curves are made famous in the artist’s later work, but Smithson’s “Spiral Jetty” is the grand inheritor of that particular arc. “Spiral Jetty” is one of the most recognizable and celebrated markers of late 20th century art.

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Less Cities, More Moving People

by E. Tage Larsen

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In the shadow of major architectural landmarks is a brilliant, artificial strip of sand. This little mirage will shimmer for a month: built as an easement for weekenders loitering between Central Park’s Summer Stage and PS1’s dance parties. At the tail-end of a parking lot in industrial Queens, a couple of businessmen came together with an idea to create a mid-city beach. Add 400 tons of white sand and two-dollar Pabst Blue Ribbons, a volleyball net and umbrellas (for those shirking violets) and you have the Water Taxi Beach.

New York is slowly trying to promote more of its waterfront property for public usage. What with real estate here being so expensive, the goal remains delectable pabulum for local politicians and far less sating for the constituents. Most of the city dwellers have to commute to the extremes of the boroughs in order to touch something resembling a beach.

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Pen v. Sword: NYPD

by E. Tage Larsen

The ex-Libertarian in me recognizes pangs at the intrusions illustrated in headlines and on the evening news of transit cops conducting bag checks. Random searches are part of the new New York experience. Looking beyond that, the NYPD are doing what they can to shore up a porous system, balancing immediate response against inconveniencing a majority of the commuters.

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The cold truth is that the police are always profiling – it is a reductive process of ferreting out criminals via analytical reasoning, usually based on non-verbal cues. And, it’s a tenuous line amplified by the ACLU as a discriminatory practice. People make assumptions about paintings all the time, without stopping to fully appreciate the works. In fine art, people tend to be the most finicky about portraiture as the human form and scale is something of which we are all innately hyper-aware.


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Misses and Near Mrs.

by E. Tage Larsen

Mariana had a wayward Mediterranean beauty. She was one of the most stunning women I’ve known, yet bent by a midland-California upbringing and gawky, boyish length. Leigh was mechanical but alive. She held herself within a coat of plaster, corrosive under a frozen mantle. Emily was the last in a series of magnificent daughters. Her ample beauty and puckish cruelty enlisted my teenage devotion. Deborah was unlike the others – less aware of her remove and quite giving. She hid behind soft features, with nervous golden eyes and a complicated anger.

The artist and the muse is a quaint practice now somewhat shunned for gender politics and pictorial vogue. You could argue that the muse is no more. But then, if I’ve had mine mustn’t you have yours? Perfection and adoration are universal aspirations (though neither are considered healthy from a therapeutic perspective.) Marketing offers models which are supposed to replace our personal desires, yet alienate from a script they believe to be sublime. Even if there is as much latent desire in your Blahniks or Carrera there isn’t a reciprocal relationship. They haven’t been able to replace the other yet.

Is there still room in this world for that discreet object of inspiration?

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Mr. Oasis

by E. Tage Larsen

Is Steve Wynn an unconscionable huckster or a design genius? Nobody since perhaps Bugsy Siegel has had the type of impact on Las Vegas as Steve Wynn. His portfolio has included the Golden Nugget, Treasure Island, The Mirage and Bellagio. Wynn brought his ambition to the people, and the people repaid him in kind – making Las Vegas a family vacation destination.

His new resort, Wynn Las Vegas, opened with enormous fanfare and scrutiny. Ten thousand visitors its opening day. This newest vision offers something much more conservative from his previous ventures. Wynn Las Vegas is the less-More of the Less-is-More debate. Expecting the lavish excess of a next Bellagio, the major newspapers have been unkind at this plain, boxy venture.

Steve Wynn in a recent, rare, two-part interview on the Charlie Rose Show answers important questions about the role of the businessman in the life of aesthetics. To follow are some lessons learned from the “design billionaire.”

“The businessman part is easy. The art part is hard.”

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On Oskar Karlin

by E. Tage Larsen

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Normally, We reserve this space for longer essays but Oskar Karlin’s project sort of speaks for itself. Every day he maps out his travels, over time patterns appear. Under projects, check out the series “The Never Ending Drawing.”

Reminds us a Bob Mould song, “All the time, you wore a hole/ The same place tacked over and over/ And I never go there, I never go there.”

But then, We’re probably projecting. There’s little to say other than how exquisitely beautiful somebody’s else’s wandering can appear.


Fucking in Public Places

by E. Tage Larsen

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“Those glasses make you look ugly.”
“I want to look ugly.”
“Those glasses make you look stupid.”
“I want to look stupid.”

Salacious euphemisms won’t sate the honest ambition of Michael Winterbottom’s “9 Songs.” Descriptives such as “erotic” and “making love” seem like coy colloquialisms, as antiquated and emancipated as Marlo Thomas or as minted as Mae West’s lure. Can the 20th century really be so distant? “9 Songs” is a window into the often meaningless and habitual interaction of many cosmopolitan relationships: made all the more real for it’s ad lib dialogue, actual concert footage, and explicit hardcore sex.

Set for theatrical release in the next few weeks, barring certain distribution difficulties, “9 Songs” is the love story of Matt and Lisa, who meet at a concert and spend a summer together. The movie is told through a rapid series of vignettes intended to reveal a relationship Matt remembers: great music, endless sex, quiet moments of inane conversation and rising spats. It’s because of this blasé vérité that it might be the best date movie of the year.

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Portrait of the Artist as Correspondent

by E. Tage Larsen

The Summer issue of "Art on Paper" (presently at the newsstand) displays the fruit of a simple experiment. A young staffer (either real or fictive) sends a letter to a bunch of artists explaining the problem of being young and new to New York, with many of the problems that come to bear on that condition with the added issue of being a young artist. A number of letters are sent out and they publish a dozen of them.

“My advice? Don’t go into art for fame and fortune. Do it because you cannot not do it. Being an artist is a combination of talent and obsession. Live in New York, L.A., Koln, or London.” – John Baldessari

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Robert Smithson, Intl.

by E. Tage Larsen

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Robert Smithson, "Terminal Area Concepts," Tibbets, Abbot, McCarthy, and Stratton, c.1966

Robert Smithson’s distant, mythic, Spiral Jetty is his most familiar artwork. However, it was nearly eclipsed by an earlier and far more commercial proposal to develop the “Dallas Fort Worth Regional Airport” as a landscape that integrated a public space with land art.

From 1966-67, Smithson was retained by Tibbets, Abbott, McCarthy, and Stratton (TAMS) as an “artist-consultant.” Smithson’s heavy interest in French films and structuralism saw a number TAMS related works based on maps, aerial art, and with a different perspective.

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Right of Way / Way of Life?

by E. Tage Larsen

“Italian mothers tell their children that it’s bad manners to eat or drink anywhere but the table.” – Deborah Ball, WSJ “Italian Challenge: Water everywhere But Not on the Go”

I could find no mention of eating in public in Emily Post’s etiquette book. The Italian deference on this just seems like good taste and proper manners. Italians drink more bottled water than the rest of the world – about three times more bottled water than Americans consume – and nearly entirely behind closed doors. Nestle SA is aggressively trying to change those social practices with a marketing campaign designed to subvert the cultural norm: in this case “good taste.”

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Relevant, Authentic and Intimate

by E. Tage Larsen

Despite the marvelous technology that colors our lives, we persist in perpetuating an anachronistic mindset. According to Ron Pompei we might as well be living in the 19th Century. Our growth is subsumed by a culture that privileges an ever-narrowing worldview. Ron Pompei is the principal at Pompei A.D. What comes across from his recent talk is a desire to connect with the client in better ways, emphasizing empathy and authenticity.

That our culture hasn’t reconciled with the industrial age confuses our best efforts to digest and portray the information age. Instead we are the inheritors to a blind enlightenment. For Pompei, we are still hobbled by that history. To that end he offers, “In that period of time we limited our definition of our selves because we have to fit in with the machines that we were creating.”

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Making Light

by E. Tage Larsen

Though you can draw a diagram for the different axis’s that humor works on, you can’t really sit down and tell somebody what “funny” is. Humor is contextual, inexplicable and personal. Bob Mankoff has been working on a research project with the University of Michigan psychology department to find out how people process humor: how your eyes track and when your pupils dilate.

As the Cartoon Editor for The New Yorker magazine, Mankoff is in the fortunate position to pursue this question as he looks at a thousand cartoons a week. His recent book tour took him to a lengthy discussion at the New York Historical Society and Good Experience Live 2005.

“Cartoons and humor are not for the good times. They’re for all the bad frustrations, annoyances, and things bordering on the horrible that happen to us. And they’re even for the horrible things happen to other people - it’s a certain little anesthesia of the heart which is necessary.” – Bob Mankoff

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Letters 6.10.05

by E. Tage Larsen

&bullBen Schicker : It's strange to me the different people I've met online & how their stories overlap my own. How their essays tell me about my life. &bullJim Sheehan : Colbert's eye owes something to Godfrey Reggio, but his heart is all Norman Rockwell -- and his soul (if his photography could afford him one), belongs to Hugh Hefner. &bullDana Fisher: So many times, things that seem so profound from the outside ...are really just done for convenience.

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A Practicable Reform

by E. Tage Larsen

D4458351x.jpgThe image you see here is from a manuscript auction a few months back. It's been resting in limbo because I keep thinking it’s from a Sotheby’s sale in March, and that i'll find the source material. No matter how many times I go back to the Cosmatos catalogue, it’s not there.

The story goes, as I remember, that an English printing press was on its last legs, taken over by a new owner in the 19th Century and they issued this preface before a short-run publication. This story could all be fiction with as poor as my memory serves me at times. [I challenge anyone to find this auction lot, $50 to the first person to send me the correct link.] No real matter, because truly, the story the document tells is why it’s here.

I’ve been thinking about the past recently. Mostly about my grandparent’s generation who went through World War II, some of which were children of the Great Depression. Those people not only lived through trying times but they all struggled for the comfort we now benefit from. They knew enough to be thankful, and to work hard.

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Headlines to Waistlines

by Jennifer Hamm

“Every waking moment of our lives, we swim in an ocean of advertising, all of it telling us the same thing: consume, consume. And then consume some more. The epidemic of over-consumption begins with the things we put in our mouths.”

So writes Morgan Spurlock in his newly released Don’t Eat This Book. Having slimmed down after making “Super Size Me,” Spurlock has been working the morning talk show circuit to promote his book and talk about the factors that have made the United States the fattest nation on the planet.

Spurlock’s “epidemic of over-consumption” took a surreal turn recently with the release of Paris Hilton’s newest soft-porn – an advertisement for Carl’s Jr.' Spicy BBQ Six Dollar Burger.

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Deliverance

by E. Tage Larsen

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Suffering from Comparison

by E. Tage Larsen

Now grossly over-magnified, marketing is pivotal in exaggerating choice in western culture. It’s a tired refrain to remind that branders and advertisers gorge you on implausible and improbable variants of things you already own or likely never needed — a buffet of attrition culminating in economic bulimia. Wealth does what it does. More choice among goods and services serves more to detract us from the type of quality decisions that improve our lives. Too many choices distract and sap our energy, trapping us in an ever-yawning entropy of consumption.

Should you “choose” to look past Determinism and be welcomed into this complicated and godless waste of modernism — for we are all truly its heirs and byproduct, regardless of your theistic ascription — then you can’t escape the numbing preponderance of consumptive mass. For the past few hundred years, choice has been a battle cry of freedom. Now, the “too-muchness” of it may ultimately be a schism between free will and freedom.

Barry Schwartz, author of “The Paradox of Choice,” recently spoke about this at length, at the GEL 2005 conference (included within, is a transcript of his talk). Schwartz opened with a brief voice-over by Carrie from HBO’s “Sex in the City”:

“I thought about choices. Since birth, modern women have been told they can do and be anything we want – be an astronaut, be a head of a company, a stay-at-home mom. There aren’t any rules anymore. And the choices are endless. And apparently they can all be delivered right to your door. But is it possible that we’ve gotten so spoiled by choices that we’ve become unable to make one? That a part of us knows that once you choose something, one man, one grade of carpet, one amazing job, another option goes away. Are we a generation of women who can’t choose just one from column A? Did we all have too much to handle? Or was Samantha right? Can we have it all?”

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Tim Hawkinson: Art, Artifice and Artificial

by Cherie Louise Turner

The work of Los Angeles–based artist Tim Hawkinson is currently featured in a two-decade retrospective at the Whitney Museum of American Art. This, and indeed all of his shows, has met with enthusiasm by both art critics and the public. There is no doubt that Hawkinson is an artist deserving of accreditation for he is imbued with requisite inventiveness, talent, and passion. He is prolific in meticulous ways. Because Tim Hawkinson is obsessed with exploring the very meaning of life. And it is evident in his abundance that the specter of time is always at his heels, pushing him to find a satisfactory, awe-inspiring resolution; which hasn’t yet come, for the viewer or the artist. Unedited and self-indulgent, the work often doesn’t go further than Hawkinson and his (and by extension, our) everyday world.

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