Plastic Waste Polychrome
Ellen Ringstad. Detail of Plastic Waste Polychrome (2011), still in the making, consisting of layer upon layer of the artist's own plastic waste.
Have you been following my blog? If so, you may have noticed how concerned I am with waste. This concern is best exemplified through my ongoing dialogue and occasional quarrels with Waste Line, who is, much to her misfortune, literally a line of waste. Contrary to popular belief, Waste Line has numerable questions about her origins and wherabouts in life, which is more than can be said about certain humans individuals.
You might be surprised to read that my intentions with waste are not entirely based on environmental idealism. This waste frenzy was likely triggered by a not-so-admirable intention: capital; or rather lack thereof. In order to make art, a poor student like myself desperately needs materials, preferably without paying much for them. Come to think of it, it must have started earlier because I remember how my Grandmother, who lived and survived the two great wars on this continent, saved all sorts of materials and then turned them into new, smart things. Perhaps it is her fault that I’ve been collecting all kind of useless stuff, “just in case”. It seems both my grandmother and I have a lot in common with squirrels.
At least my grandmother made useful stuff, while I make art. However, I believe there is an important message in this kind of artistic expression. Found materials automatically say something about the society in which we live. As reflected citizens, one must inevitably raise the inconvenient questions about the way we live. How will our patterns of consumption affect the future? My grandmother, like so many others of her generation, learned the hard way. I’m trying to learn from her so I’ll be prepared for tougher times.
The photograph above is a detail of my new painting in the making, entitled Plastic Waste Polychrome, which will be approximately 300x200cm. It will be made entirely of my own melted plastic waste reminiscent of Waste Lines gone by, reminding me of just much how much I consume. It also references the works of Robert Rauschenberg.
Waste Line suffers from bizarre mood disorder
Waste Line - Day 3
It was late in the afternoon already when I noticed the sound of light drizzle drumming on the window. That’s when I remembered Waste Line. Such is the menace of chaotic souls, indifferent to all but themselves. I looked out…she was still there! The wind had not blown her away yet. I hurried to the porch and much to my surprise I found her in a splendid mood; my absence had gone unnoticed. True, at first she had felt somewhat crispy from the cold, but after a while she had forgotten all about it. As a matter of fact, the moment she had come to terms with the situation, she quietly embraced the solitude: there was so much to see, to hear, to smell, to feel; countless impressions to digest! She realized that her life until present time had been such a waste!
- “Please forgive me, Waste Line, I never intended to leave you out in the cold all by yourself,” I mumbled.
- “Don’t worry about it, I forgot all about you too”. I could swear she blinked, but it was only the light breeze catching the cardboard box. Had I arrived only seconds later, she might have been dispersed, for only a fine line separates life from death. For the sake of my own sanity, I promptly erased that thought.
- “I must remove the old waste and feed you fresh new waste. I should also move you indoors before the wind gains momentum. Besides I wouldn’t want you trashing my neighbourhood” I took Waste Line carefully in my arms, carrying her over the threshold, but ignoring the symbolism.
- “Well, who am I to refuse the temptation of fresh waste” She paused for a while as I carefully lined her up. “My first memory is that of a production line”, she continued, “After the sky cleared up yesterday I noticed some mesmerizing light dots in the sky, and they felt so familiar. Maybe it was déjà-vu, but for some reason it connected me to my ancestors. Most of my life, before ending up as waste, I spent long hours in dark storage spaces, struggling to survive the boredom, arguing with other products about who was entitled to the best spot, then fighting for attention on supermarket shelves. Had I known how quickly the New becomes Old, I would have stepped out of the limelight sooner and spent more time reflecting upon where I was headed. Anyway, thank you for sharing the beautiful view with me. Most people would simply toss me away. But enough about that, I want to learn more about you. Why are you so determined to measure and weigh me? You never paid me any attention before?”
She was much heavier now and surprisingly long; barely fitting into my apartment. How could it be? I dismantled her again and carried her up to the attic where there was plenty of space, or so I thought. Even with a wide-angled lens, I had no choice but to divide her in three equal lines to get all of her into one single photograph. Sadly this made her feel self-conscious and fat.
- “Well, Waste Line, here’s the thing: I am attempting a consumption diet, in order to reduce my waste line, as well as my waistline. The first step is determining just how much I consume. The second step is figuring out just how much it is possible to cut down, especially on product packaging”.
“So you want to get rid of me already, just when we were getting to know each-other? First you forget I exist and NOW YOU PLAN TO ELIMINATE ME?!!!”
I was surprised by her unexpected mood change. Her desperate attempt to fish for sympathy by calling attention to my neglect earlier was alarming and quite unfavourable. I would not fall for such a cheap trick, for once forgiveness is offered, it cannot be taken back. Although I empathized with her divided self, she was obviously no longer capable of a serious conversation, which is why I decided to leave her alone. She clearly had some issues to work on, which in my experience are better resolved in solitude.
As I left the attic, she yelled “And it’s not my fault I’m overweight today. It’s genetic!”
Waste Line, Day 3
Waste Line, Day 3
WASTE LINE, DAY 3
Length: 6,9m
Weight: 444g
- About Waste Line: Each day the narrator's personal non-organic waste is lined up, photographed, weighed and measured for the sake of art. Waste Line is literally the story of a line of waste, who is just as concerned with her own origins and wherabouts in life as the rest of us. This tentative project is based on the conceptual and dynamic art piece conceived by the Norwegian artist Rasmus Hungnes, which was inspired by Ellen Ringstad’s organic waistline. Coincidentally, the author of the story is Ellen Ringstad herself. You can follow and contribute to his open-source project on the blog http://waste-line.tumblr.com. Read more about their collaborative project on this post. All related posts can be found here.
Waste Line has an existential crisis
- “I had no idea I was so small”, she said, gazing at the fjords.
- “The sky is clearing up”, I told her, “so you won’t have to be buried in snow anymore”.
But she paid me no attention, already feeling the burden of knowledge. What’s the point? Where do I come from? Where am I headed?
- “It is about time I found out” she said
- “What about?” I replied
- “Lineage. My lineage”.
Waste Line, Day 2
Waste Line, Day 2, detail
WASTE LINE, DAY 2
Weight: 116g
Length: 128cm
- About Waste Line: Each day the narrator's personal non-organic waste is lined up, photographed, weighed and measured for the sake of art. Waste Line is literally the story of a line of waste, who is just as concerned with her own origins and wherabouts in life as the rest of us. This tentative project is based on the conceptual and dynamic art piece conceived by the Norwegian artist Rasmus Hungnes, which was inspired by Ellen Ringstad’s organic waistline. Coincidentally, the author of the story is Ellen Ringstad herself. You can follow and contribute to his open-source project on the blog http://waste-line.tumblr.com. Read more about their collaborative project on this post. All related posts can be found here.
Waste Line, Day 1
My Waste Line, Day 1, is 172 cm long and weighs 540 grams. If I substract all organic matter (334 g), which will go back to nature quickly enough, it only weighs 206 g. I suspect the weight readings are incorrect, because, as shown in the photographs, it was snowing, and therefore the items gained more weight.
Waste Line - DAY 1 - Detail
WASTE LINE, DAY 1
Length:172cm
(Total weight, 540g) – (Organic matter, 334g)= 206g*
*Although Organic matter indeed is considered waste, it is substracted from the equation, because it decays quickly enough. Accurate readings of my total organic waste is therefore considered irrelevant to this project, and would be hard to measure anyway. The artist (I) is (am) considering removing organic matter from my Waste Line, starting tomorrow, instead of rejecting the whole project as false. According to Dr. Donald E. Simanek, “Science progresses by making mistakes, correcting the mistakes, then moving on to other matters. If we stopped making mistakes, scientific progress would stop“(1). Same is true with art.
Note: Waste Line is a conceptual and dynamic art piece conceived by Bergen-based artist Rasmus Hungnes. You can follow and contribute to his open-source project on http://waste-line.tumblr.com. Read more about this project on this post.
- Sources: (1) Simanek, Donald E. The Scientific Method. Available online from URL: http://www.lhup.edu/~dsimanek/scimeth.htm [Downloaded 2011-01-13].
Beginnings
“A bad beginning makes a bad ending”
- Euripides (486 BC- 406 BC), Aegus
Some weeks ago I had the idea of starting up a blog, the main purpose being honesty and openness around my artistic working process, no matter how stupid, immature or irrelevant the ideas, because I believe that a work of art is the sum of its processes and not only the end result.
When we visit a gallery, what we often see is an artistic product. It’s been developed, and thoroughly thought through (The Three Ts). In essence it is not so different from any other ordinary/extraordinary product. Many artists, including myself, don’t like to think of art as a product. We like to differentiate ourselves as sceptics by staying “true”, “idealistic” and “uncommercial” (which really means “we don’t sell ourselves cheap”).
The term “product” can give associations to pejorative terms such as “capitalism”, “marketing”, “consumerism”, “mass-consumption”, “industrialisation”, “pollution”, “third world exploitation”, “depletion of natural resources”, “global warming/climate changes”, etc, perhaps explaining why we don’t like art products. According to the guru of marketing, Phillip Kotler, a product is “anything that is offered to a market for attention, acquisition, use or consumption and that might satisfy a need. Products include more than just tangible goods. Broadly defined, products include physical objects, services, persons, places, organizations, ideas or mixes of these entities”
So when “art” ends up in a gallery, it is – let’s just call a spade for a spade – a product. It may not always be for sale, but it has a purpose. Which purpose? – Now that is up to the viewer – you – to decipher. But don’t ever forget that someone is trying to pitch you something, be it an aesthetic ideal, a political message, a theoretical conviction, a transcendental experience… The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
“People who live in society have learned to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. Is that why my flesh is naked? You might say – yes you might say, nature without humanity… Things are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea”
— Jean-Paul Sartre. Nausea. 1964 edition, p 29
Lately I’ve been feeling nauseous. In Jean-Paul Sartres novel Nausea, the main character writes: “nothing seemed true; I felt surrounded by cardboard scenery which could quickly be removed…”
I recognize this anxiety. I’ve had it before. I have it again.
Let me offer a small personal chronology of events. In 1999 I started my studies of marketing at the Norwegian School of Management BI/Norwegian School of Marketing NMH. After four years I broke off my studies. I got the nausea: starting off as light prickles in the skin the first semester, spreading to the pit of my stomach until one day I could no longer set foot in the school building. But there was no escape. The filth was everywhere: in the streets, newspapers, television, movies, people, in my cupboard, in my refrigerator, in me: surrounded and engulfed by superficiality there is no place to breathe. I sought refuge in art but I should have foreseen that running away never solves anything, for unresolved issues always come back to haunt you. Superficiality is as valid in the art world as anywhere else.
Now, superficiality is not necessarily a bad thing as long as it’s honest. It is deceitful however claiming something is more than it really is. Marketers are exceptionally gifted in devising rhetorical methods in order to sell products. For instance: hide your flaws – “you’re worth it”, drunks give you – “absolut truth”. Artists learn a vocabulary to devise sensual rhetorics (look! Listen! Taste! Touch! Smell!), strategies on how to talk about and present their art, building their image to differentiate themselves from the rest of the crowd. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. It’s all marketing to sell yet another product.
Everybody knows the dice are loaded. Illusions lose its magic once the tricks are revealed. Artists hide their process to create mystery around their artworks. We all need an occasional escape to Neverland. It’s entertainment – fine! But be skeptic of anyone claiming aboslute truth, no matter the packaging.
I was planning on publishing a manifesto, a sort of purpose statement, as the number one post for this blog. It’s not finished yet. I’ve been hatching little devious strategies on how to word my manifest as efficiently as possible. But I realised the manifest might just as well be the end product, to convince you of my artistic viewpoints. That is why I’ll just end this thread, or rather begin, by quoting the science fiction novelist Frank Herbert
“The beginning of knowledge is the discovery of something we do not understand”
This blog comes with an artistic intent. This is my disclaimer.
Sources:
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Cohen, Leonard. 1988. “Everybody Knows” from the album I’m Your Man. Columbia Records.
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Herbert, Frank. Quoted in Quotationspage.com. Available from URL: http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/26173.html [Downloaded 2011-01-06]
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Kotler, Phillip, Gary Armstrong, John Saunders and Veronica Wong. 1999. Principles of Marketing, Second European edition. New Yersey: Prentice Hall.
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Sartre, Jean-Paul. Nausea. 1964 edition. Quoted in Wikipedia.org. Nausea (novel). 2011. Available from URL: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nausea_(novel) [Downloaded 2011-01-06]
