Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Thursday in 817


The Philosophers’ Ontological Party club (POPc) are throwing a party. 

As part of the System Project’s Presentation of A Night with Nelson Goodman, you are invited – over drinks and really fancy snacks – to be part of the discussion/argument/sharing of lingering thoughts.

DATE: NOVEMBER 29,  2012.              5:00-7:00 P.M.

PLACE:  University of the Arts.  333 Broad Street, 8th floor, Philadelphia,  PA 
Artist and philosopher Dena Shottenkirk brings to UArts an installation examining in visual terms the issues discussed in her book on the twentieth century analytic philosopher Nelson Goodman. (Nelson Goodman: Nominalism and Its Aftermath (Springer)). The book can be viewed at 

This event is not though just another art exhibition.*  It has a performative/party aspect, where local philosophers (real ones, though occasionally an honorary one gets slipped in) play the part of philosophers and answer questions from curious viewers.  In this instance, they will be Noel Carroll, David Post, and Lara Ostaric.  Questions can be drawn from a hat or viewers can just extemporaneously engage. The discussions are unscripted so range from the profound to the serene and back to the trivial.  It is afterall a party.

* If you’d like to see the version of it done in NYC last year you could go to the
website http://denashottenkirk.com/  and click on The System Project, (which is what this enterprise is called).

Monday, November 26, 2012

Saltz on the Richter Challenge




Saltz Challenges: Produce a Perfect Faux Gerhard Richter Painting, and I’ll Buy It

I love art, but I hate the astronomical prices it sells for. My skin crawls when I read about auctions, and every year they get grosser. Last month, a living-artist record was set when a 1994 abstract Gerhard Richter painting was sold for $34.2 million. Like a lot of these purchases, the sale was about a collector trying to make art history by spending money. Or big-dick-waving. Ugh.
I want to own art like this, but I’m not rich, and I also think it’s a conflict of interest for a critic to own work that he or she may write about. (Reviews can affect market value.) So, last winter, I put out a call on Facebook. I’d pay anyone $155 plus the cost of materials to make me a perfect fake by Richter, Ryman, Flavin, Fontana, Du­champ, Hirst, Guyton, or Agnes Martin. (Why $155? It’s enough money to me that the painting had to be worth it, and 55 is a funnier number than 50.)
You can’t just call up a guy and order an ersatz Hirst or Richter—unless you are seeking a flat-out forger, but those folks don’t work for $155 and their numbers aren’t listed. Besides, in the art world, noncriminal fakes aren’t news. We don’t even call them “fakes.” We prefer the term “appropriation,” whereby a new artwork incorporates or reproduces another. Copyists lie on a continuum: At one end, you have extremely original artists (Richard Prince, Elaine Sturtevant) who use the old to make something new. At the other, you have people deceiving buyers. In between, you have artists who merely make covers, trying to get attention; slipstream behind the famous; and offer simplistic observations. Plus some who are just goofing around.
A lot of those folks turned up, and three came through. Daniel Maidman made me a peppy, near-perfect Hirst spot painting. The artist Vincent Zambrano made me a pretty good Guyton. (Guyton produces his art on ink-jet printers, and Zambrano’s printer was too small to conjure the surfaces and scale-shifts of the real thing.) Then came Stanley Casselman, who asked, “Which Richters do you want?” Intrigued, I answered, “Any abstract from the past twenty years.” He vanished—then, months later, e-mailed images labeled “Your Richters.”
He hadn’t copied one painting: These were originals in the manner of Richter. All had nifty squeegee sluices of blurry paint, but they were either too pretty or illusionistic or atmospheric. I sent Stanley an e-mail saying they didn’t make the cut, and he disappeared again. In September, he sent new images—so close they freaked me out. We made a date and met at his Jersey City studio. It was clear that he knew this was a lark yet took it seriously. 
The examples of Stanley’s own art that I saw are nothing like Richter’s. They’re highly crafted abstract minimalist works. Not to my taste, but done impeccably. Which turns out to be key for copying: He is a practiced artist who knows how to handle paint.
When Stanley opened his door, I saw what looked like 50 large Gerhard Richters. I immediately had fantasies of getting rich, of opening a Fake Richter shop with him. Then I started looking more closely. All of the paintings seemed Richterian, but many had an Impressionistic, un-Richterian prettiness. Many looked too thought-out. Accidents looked intentional rather than discovered. His decisions stood out instead of taking me by surprise. Richter—who applies paint in scrims, in layers that emerge through one another—controls accident with a physical intelligence and subtle changes of direction and touch; his decisions are in an incredible call-and-response relationship to accidents. His abstract paintings look like photographs of abstract paintings. This creates glitches in your ­retinal-cerebral memory, so that you perceive this uncanny space between abstraction, accident, photography, process, the nature of paint, and painting. These didn’t.
Then, suddenly, one made my heart beat faster. Stanley grimaced. “That one’s not my best,” he said. “You’re wrong,” I told him. Then another struck me. He winced again, saying, “That’s a reject that had been cut out from another work.” Then I understood that only when Stanley stopped thinking he was making a Richter could he make one. We had a deal: Stanley signed his name prominently on the back of each, and I paid him, put them in my car, and drove home.
I don’t think Stanley understands that he could get pretty rich making these things. I suspect he could get $8,000 a pop. I’ll bet he won’t: Although artists say they want to make money and get attention, almost all of them only want those results from doing their own thing. Whereas I love living with my faux Richters, even if neither looks exactly like the real deal. Very close is close enough for me (and as close as I’m going to get). Maybe it’s better: I love that there’s no big-dick trophy-art baggage around them. Moreover, they trigger enough memory of actual Richters that they become real enough. I’m not making a comment about the market or smirking that some work can be reproduced. We’re not creating fake provenances or aging materials: Casselman signs his own name. These are knockoffs, flints that spark, reminders, whatever. If anyone worries that they will one day enter the market as the real thing, I’ll decree in my will that they should be burned.
The final thing I learned is embarrassing, given how much I hate market chatter: I’ve caught the collecting bug. I’ve arranged for more Richters by other artists. Ditto Guyton and Hirst. I’ve got a Kara Walker cutout on order. Calders, Duchamps, Rothkos are all on the way. My wife is worried. So am I. Oh my! I’ve got a case of little-dick art.         
Click through the slideshow to see how Casselman created a Richter in two hours.
*This article originally appeared in the December 3, 2012 issue of New York Magazine.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Peter Tyson on Brain Transplants

NQUIRY: AN OCCASIONAL COLUMN

The Future of Brain Transplants

  • By Peter Tyson
  • Posted 08.26.10
  • NOVA scienceNOW

Will we ever grow replacement brains or do whole-brain transplants?

Need a new body part? Tissue engineers are now growing human bladders, lungs, and other organs in the lab with the hope that, someday soon, such organs may replace diseased organs in people. Transplant surgeons, for their part, routinely place donated kidneys, hearts, and other organs into patients whose own organs are failing. They have transplanted hands, arms, even, famously, a face.
This has left me wondering, where does the brain come into all this? Will we someday grow replacement brains or do whole-brain transplants? Three questions leap to mind: Why would we? Could we? And should we?
A computer image of a brain being held in hands.
On bad days, we may feel we'd like a brain transplant, but what are the prospects realistically? Some experts have actually put their minds to it.EnlargePhoto credit: © Henrik Jonsson/iStockphoto
I must admit to feeling a bit squeamish with the whole idea, which you might agree has a sizeable "yuck" factor. And I felt a little sheepish when I called experts to ask them about it. Would they dismiss me out of hand, beseeching me not to waste their time with a subject best left to science-fiction writers? But with science and medicine advancing at a dizzying pace, and with questionable medical procedures of the past as cautionary tales, it seemed like a subject worth addressing, if only perhaps to reject it as untenable, unconscionable, or simply too ghastly to contemplate.

WHY WOULD WE?

First of all, why? What medical justification could exist for growing a new brain, or part of one, and placing it in someone whose own brain, or part of it, was removed?
"Certainly there are situations where people have tumors and have to have areas resected or situations where people are brain-dead," says Doris Taylor, whose tissue-engineering lab at the University of Minnesota's Stem Cell Institute is experimenting with growing entire replacement organs, including 70 livers last year alone. "Certainly there are situations where somebody has an accident that leaves their brain stem injured. Would it be nice to be able to regrow the appropriate regions? Absolutely. Talk to any paraplegic or quadriplegic out there. They would love to have new cervical neurons or brain-stem regions."
Other researchers echoed Taylor's sentiments—that the future of brain tissue engineering likely concerns small pieces, not the whole enchilada.
A computer image of neurons communicating.
Trying to make or reestablish tiny connections in the brain, even between single neurons, is closer to reality than growing whole brains, tissue engineers say.EnlargePhoto credit: © Sebastian Kualitzki/iStockphoto
"We're not going to make whole brains in a dish and then just transplant them," says Evan Snyder, head of Stem Cells and Regenerative Biology at the Sanford-Burnham Medical Research Institute in California. "But what people are playing with is, is it possible to do little bits of tissue engineering in a dish and then put these tissues into small areas [of the body] and see whether you can make some connections?" Perhaps help a patient with Parkinson's disease regain some lost neural functionality, say, or buy a quadriplegic another segment of spinal cord function such that she can breath a little better on her own or can now move her thumbs—that's the hope, Snyder says.
"Building a whole brain? That's kind of out there."
What about transplanting existing brains from one individual to another, like we do with donated hearts or kidneys? Under what scenario would we consider that? About a decade ago, Dr. Robert White, a neurosurgeon at Case Western Reserve University, received a burst of media attention by advocating what he called "whole-body transplants" for quadriplegics. (Because the brain can't function without the head's wiring and plumbing, White noted, a brain transplant, at least initially, would be a head transplant. And, perhaps because of the yuck factor, he preferred to call such an operation a whole-body transplant.)
Quadriplegics often die prematurely of multiple-organ failure, White said. If surgeons could transfer the healthy body of a donor, such as a brain-dead individual or someone who has just died of a brain disease, to the healthy head of a quadriplegic, they could prolong that patient's life. Brain-dead patients already serve as multiple-organ donors, so a whole-body transplant is not as macabre as it might at first sound, White argued.
An MRI of a human head.
Could surgeons detach a living human head (brain included) and place it on the living body of a donor? Robert White says it’s possible—and may be in our future. EnlargePhoto credit: © Luis Carlos Torres/iStockphoto
I tracked down Dr. White, who is now retired after 60 years as a brain surgeon but is still active as a writer and consultant. "I think this is an operation of the future," he told me on the phone. "But it is certainly out there, and under these circumstances [of quadriplegia], the concept of giving somebody who is important or quite young a new body is not beyond comprehension." And it should be discussed now, White feels, because it may well be coming. "We're still within just the first 100 years of transplantation," he said. "Who knows where we'll be after another 100 years?"

COULD WE GROW NEW BRAINS?

Let's say for the sake of argument that we had sound medical reasons for doing such procedures. Could we, technically speaking? Could we grow a whole human brain, or even part of one, in a laboratory?
"There is now data showing that if you put stem cells in an area of brain injury that the cells actually home into the injured brain area, and they can take up residence there and exhibit some sort of functionality," says Tony Atala, director of the Wake Forest Institute for Regenerative Medicine and head of one of the premier tissue-engineering labs in the country. "But building a whole brain? That's kind of out there." How about a single lobe? "That would be extremely complex to do," he said. "As a scientist, you never say never, because you never know what will be within the realm of possibility several centuries from now. But certainly to replace a lobe today, that would be science fiction with current technology."
Doris Taylor was more willing to speculate but was also cautious. "We can decellularize the brain," she told me, referring to her lab's technique to chemically strip all cells from donor organs, leaving a kind of cell-less scaffold that can be seeded with stem cells and "regrown." "But whether it's possible to restore brain cells appropriately, who knows?" She paused. "And in the case of the brain, how would you know? There's such a wide spectrum of behavior and functioning. I'm not sure we'd ever have an end point to know how to measure." She paused again. "I have no doubt that we can rebuild at least some neural pathways. The question is, will that rebuild a brain, including everything you need for mind-brain function, or even a piece thereof? I really don't know."
Taylor envisions more modest steps forward, such as rebuilding small parts of the brain to decrease the size or frequency of seizures in an epileptic or to help restore some functionality in a stroke victim who had suffered severe neurologic loss. "I could imagine considering growing regions of brains to graft in," she says. "But are we within five to ten years of that? That's hard to imagine."
A computer image of a human head and spinal cord.
While the focus of intensive research, successfully reconnecting the spinal cord to the brain following a serious spinal injury remains beyond current science. EnlargePhoto credit: © Mads Abildgaard/iStockphoto
Research with neural stem cells has shown that it's extremely hard to make even the simplest neuronal connections, much less regenerate neurons, as had been hoped early on. "The vision of the stem cell field 20 years ago was you have a patient in a wheelchair and you stick a stem cell into his brain or spinal cord, and he'll come bounding out of his wheelchair and run the Boston Marathon," Snyder says. "We know now that's not the way it's going to happen."

COULD WE TRANSPLANT EXISTING BRAINS?

What about a head transplant—or, if you prefer, a whole-body transplant? Doable? White thinks it is, even as he acknowledges that the financial costs would be prohibitive.
"Could you keep an isolated human head alive? That's creepy. Very creepy."
"I've had plenty of time to think about it, and the operation itself, although complex, really involves structures in and about the neck," White told me. "You're not cutting into the brain, and you're not cutting into the body, just severing everything at the neck. It's a very complex operation, because you have to make sure that the body's kept alive and the head's kept alive. But this has all been worked out in smaller animals."
Forty years ago, in studies that to some commentators smacked of Dr. Frankenstein, White and his team experimented with transplanting the newly detached head of a live rhesus monkey onto the body of another monkey that had just had its head removed. The longest-lived such hybrid, which reportedly showed unmistakable signs of consciousness, lasted eight days.
A computer image of a brain inside a human head.
All the surgery involved in a head transplant would take place in and around the neck, White says. While mind-numbingly complex, such an operation is conceivable, he argues.EnlargePhoto credit: © Max Delson Martins Santos/iStockphoto
"With the significant improvements in surgical techniques and postoperative management since then," White wrote in a 1999 Scientific American article, "it is now possible to consider adapting the head-transplant technique to humans." White acknowledges that a quadriplegic who got a new body today would remain paralyzed below the neck, because successfully reconnecting the brain to the spinal column remains beyond our reach.
"That's a very interesting scenario," Taylor said when I brought up White's idea. But would it work? "Well, technically, people can do almost anything," she said. "You can sew something the size of or smaller than a human hair, so technically I could imagine that working. But there are huge things we still don't know and have to learn. That doesn't mean that I can't imagine doing all of this. It does mean that I'm going to ask some difficult questions before I say it's ready for prime time or even clinical utility."
Snyder was also willing to consider possibilities, though for him the yuck factor loomed large. The first step, he felt, would have to be the ability to sustain a head independent of a body, even for a short period. "Could you keep an isolated human head alive such that it's thinking and talking and all we need to do is perfuse it with the right chemicals and the right nutrients and keep the acid-base balance fine?" he said. "That's creepy. Very creepy." Agreed, but how soon? "I can't say it's absolutely impossible," he said. "But I don't see that happening in the next 100 years."

SHOULD WE TRANSPLANT EXISTING BRAINS?

One expert who has given a lot of thought to the notion of head transplants—and was not a bit hesitant to talk about them—is Paul Root Wolpe, a bioethicist at the Emory Center for Ethics at Emory University. (In fact, he once debated White on the subject on radio.)
Computer image of one blue head among many gray.
"I'm always wary of the valuable-people argument," says Paul Root Wolpe, about the idea of singling out individuals for life-prolonging head transplants because of their "importance."EnlargePhoto credit: © ktsimage/iStockphoto
Wolpe has several problems with the concept, he told me. One concerns use of resources. Referring to a putative head transplant, he said, "The desperate attempt to keep individuals alive using more and more resources seems to me to be extraordinarily misguided when you're talking about a world where people are dying for lack of resources, very preventable kinds of diseases and issues like malnutrition." The idea that it could prolong the life of someone deemed important did not sit well with him. "I'm always wary of the valuable-people argument—'Forget keeping not-valuable people alive, that's kind of a waste, but what if we could keep valuable people alive?' I have a lot of trouble when I put the argument that way." Wolpe would consider a whole-body transplant, he says, "a fundamental ethical transgression."
Another concerns a person's bodily integrity. "You are talking about a fundamental kind of change whereby a body becomes simply a means of supporting a head, where your sense of what it means to be a whole human being has been compromised in a very new way," he says. Wolpe believes this change to be intrinsically different than that brought about by heart transplants, which, when such operations first started taking place, did raise a host of questions in people's minds about what it would mean for a recipient's sense of wholeness.
"Who do we grow a new brain for? I'm not sure of the medical problem that that solves."
One's very sense of selfhood would be at stake, Wolpe argues. In the West we tend to think of the brain as the locus of self, but culturally that is a very new idea, and it's still not shared in many cultures, he says. Consider Japan, where the locus of self is thoracic and abdominal. "That's why when you commit seppuku you disembowel yourself, you don't cut your head off, because you're attacking yourself at the seat of selfhood," he told me.
The notion that if you put his head on someone else's body that the resulting individual would be him and not the other person simply because the hybrid had his brain is, Wolpe says, "theory not fact, a philosophical position rather than a scientific reality. What you may end up finding is that when you transfer a brain from one body to another, the resulting organism is not solely what one would think of as the person whose brain it was but also has enormous components of the person into whose body it goes."
Altogether, the ethical issues surrounding head transplantation are insurmountable, Wolpe feels.
Computer image of a head with a padlock.
"Don't go there" would seem to be the position of most experts when it comes to contemplating the transplantation of human brains, either nature- or lab-born. EnlargePhoto credit: © ktsimage/iStockphoto

SHOULD WE GROW NEW BRAINS?

As for growing brains, Wolpe has a hard time seeing how you could justify it medically. "Who do we grow a new brain for? Do we grow it for someone with Alzheimer's? Do we grow it for someone with a severe brain tumor?" I didn't need to ask him to speculate. "Say you had a severe brain tumor, and I took a stem cell from you and I grew a new brain for you and got rid of your old brain and put in your new brain, none of you would be there. Your memories, your ideas, your thoughts, your thinking of your wife as your wife and your kids as your kids—it's all gone, unless we can also transfer all your memories, thoughts, and ideas to a new brain.
"So I'm not even sure what a brain transplant means in that context," he continued. "It means wiping the slate clean and now having a pre-birth-level brain in a 60-year-old person or whatever? I'm not sure of the medical problem that that solves."

A LOAD OFF

Wouldn't, couldn't, shouldn't—that seems to be the general consensus for both growing and transplanting human brains, at least for the forseeable future. That's a relief—my head hurts just thinking about them.

NOVA--on building bodies

Watch Replacing Body Parts on PBS. See more from NOVA scienceNOW.

Jeffrey Deitch for Flash Art on the "post-Human"

GIANCARLO POLITI/HELENA KONTOVA:
What is the point you’re making with “Post Human”?

Jeffrey Deitch: I have the sense that we are beginning
to experience an extraordinary revolution in the way human beings understand themselves. The convergence of rapid advances in biotechnology and computer science with society’s questioning of traditional social and sexual roles may be leading to nothing less than a redefinition of human life. It sounds a little too much like bad science fiction, but in fact powerful genetic engineering technologies that will allow people to choose their children’s or their own genetic recomposition are likely to be available during our own lifetimes.
Computer science is perhaps a decade or more away from producing computers that will havemore intellectual capacity and maybe even more creative intelligence than any human. In the essay, I wrote about the end of natural evolution and the beginning of artificial evolution. These developments will have an enormous impact on economics, politics, and on virtually every aspect of life. As we turn toward the 21st century we are likely to be experiencing a wave of new technologies and accompanying social changes that will possibly be even more important than the changes that were part of the development of the industrial revolution and of modernism. The point of “Post Human” is to begin looking at how these new technologies and new social attitudes will intersect with art. It fascinates me to think about how many creative and even artistic decisions will have to be made in the application of the new bio and computer technologies. I am not particularly involved with the latest developments in genetics and computer science, getting most of my information from journalists rather than from primary sources. I was therefore quite amazed when the artist Paul McCarthy and his wife gave me an article by the leading geneticist Leroy Hood entitled “Notes on Future Humans” inwhich he actually uses the term “post human.” Coming from the direction of art criticism, I was actually much closer to current theory in advanced genetics than I had ever realized.

GP/HK: You recently suggested an idea for a show at the 1993 Venice Biennale Aperto whose theme would be “Can Art Still Change the World?” Could “Post Human” actually be thisvery exhibition?

JD: “Post Human” is certainly about the intersection of art and social changes, but the focus is very different. In “Post Human” I am trying to identify and interpret a new type of figurative art that is emerging in Europe, America and JapanI do very much believe that art can still change the world and would point to the potent example of Andy Warhol. There are very few individuals who had more impact than Warhol on the culture and society of his times. I believe that some of the artists whom we are presenting in “Post Human” will have an important impact on the shaping of new social attitudes and on the development of a new visual language that will articulate to a larger public the changes that are occurring.

GP/HK: Wouldn’t you say that an advertising campaign such as Oliviero Toscani’s for Benetton has very high aesthetic merit and could have an impact on the art world and society at large which no work of art or movement could ever have?

JD: Toscani’s Benetton campaign shows the powerful new communication channels that are now available to artists. The Benetton ad campaign is certainly aesthetically interesting, but I do not consider it to be art. It is an excellent example of the new category of ‘meta-art,’a mixture of fine art and advertising, or art and entertainment.  Madonna’s videos and performances are another example of ‘meta-art.’ They use elements of performance art, but not in a really profound way. Yet even though the Benetton campaign is not art the way Barbara Kruger’s work is art, or Madonna’s videos are not art the way Dara Birnbaum’s videos are art, both are communicating in an aggressive way and expanding the boundaries of public taste. We will be seeing a tremendous expansion in this category of ‘meta-art’ in the advertising, marketing,  intertainment and publishing industries. Artists are alreadyparticipating in it. Good examples are the magazine covers designed by Barbara Kruger and the collaboration on a U2 music video by Jeff Koons. I see companies like Benetton pushing this kind of ‘meta-art’ further towards real art and certain artists pushing their art closer to advertising and entertainment in order to increase their ability to communicate broadly.
Ultimately it is the power of the imagery and of the mind behind it that gives art its impact. I believe that if a great artist were to use the kind of public media that Benetton is so good at exploiting, it would have a much stronger and more lasting impact than the Toscani campaign.

GP/HK: Do you feel that science or ethics might have a more direct influence on the world rather than art, as you hypothesize?

JD: If we look back on the last 150 years of art, science and philosophy, it is very impressive to see the kind of impact that art has had on defining how we perceive the world. The new physics was, in an abstract way, articulated by artists like Picasso and Kandinsky; the new psychology by artists like Schiele and Kokoschka. The exploration of the unconscious was articulated by the surrealists. One can understand existentialism by experiencing the postwar work of Giacometti. I am always fascinated to see how artists parallel the most advanced thinking in science and philosophy, and then crystallize and communicate it. It is through art as much as through anything else that we can understand the world view of the Renaissance. Two hundred years from now I think that people will still be looking at art for a better understanding on the world view of the late 20th century.

GP/HK: Do you think that art today can have more of an impact on reality than in the ’80s, and if so, what do you think art is becoming?

JD: I think that art had a very large impact on society in the ’80s. Art does not have to be socially or politically oriented to have a social impact. The ever-growing importance of the communications industries, which will be absorbing more and more from art, will be giving artists increasing opportunities to make an impact. In the ’90s, I think we see a continuation of the trend that I have tried to explore in “Post Human,” a return to a direct confrontation with social issues and humanistic concerns. The most interesting art, however, will continue to be conceptual in its foundations and somewhat abstract in its form, along with being psychologically and emotionally oriented in its content.
 
GP/HK: Do you think that virtual reality may be a solution? How might art compete with virtual reality’s potential?

JD: Virtual reality technology is like the introduction of video technology in the late ’60s.Virtual reality technology is itself not necessarily artistically interesting, but it of course presents tremendous new opportunities for the artist. I suspect that numerous
artists will begin to make virtual reality works that are not particularly inspiring as happenedwhen video was first introduced to the art world. But a few artists who have special insight into how to exploit this new medium will, I am sure, make extraordinary things.When the new medium of film was being developed,  there were critics who wondered how art could possibly compete with this powerful new medium. In fact art has competed, coexisted, and contributed to film with remarkable strength. Ultimately, virtual reality will enhance the importance of artists rather than trivializing them. These
powerful new communications technologies will more than ever need powerful creative minds to create the imagery that they will be carrying.

GP/HK: It seemed to us that the first installation of the show in Lausanne was much more intense and dramatic than the version in Turin. The rooms in Turin, which already have such character to them, somehow softened the impact of the show
with respect to the neutral spaces in Switzerland. What did you think?

JD: It is extraordinary how a different architectural or cultural context can change the way a work of art is perceived. I was quite pleased with both versions of the exhibition even though they were quite different. I actually prefer the Turin version because the dramatic spaces of the Castello di Rivoli give the artworks an aura that they did not have in the more conventional contemporary spaces in Lausanne. I also appreciated the juxtaposition of the 18th century and contemporary sensibilities in the Castello di Rivoli’s galleries. The juxtaposition between the Paul McCarthy sculpture and the grand neoclassical architecture of the room was amazing. Even really aggressive works of art like the McCarthy can have a kind of poetry and I like to see how a special space can bring that out. The exhibition will also travel to Greece and Germany, and it will be very interesting to see how the different spaces and cultural contexts will again change how the exhibition is perceived.

GP/HK: Do you think of “Post Human” as a major return to figurative art? What is the difference between this type of figuration and Pop art or hyperrealism?

JD: Yes, I do think we are seeing a significant movement toward figurative art. I see it as more of a reinvention of figurative art, however, rather than a return to figuration. I feel that we are seeing a rebirth of figurative art that is coinciding with these changes in the social and technological environment. This new figurative art is coming from
someplace very different from the figurative tradition of Picasso and Matisse. A new type of figurative art is developing that instead is heir to the conceptual tradition of Duchamp and Warhol. Through the “Post Human” exhibition and its accompanying
book, I wanted to examine this new approach to figurative art, and begin to get people
thinking about the role of artists in interpreting and perhaps even shaping our coming “Post Human” world. The new figurative art of Charles Ray or Jeff Koons, for example, owes something to Pop and to hyperrealism, but its conception is very different. The new figurative art is very much in the tradition of Conceptual art. It is more in the tradition of Vito Acconci and Bruce Nauman than Duane Hanson or Roy Lichtenstein. The heritage of performance art is particularly strong in this new work. Andy Warhol, who was as much a conceptual artist asa pop artist, is certainly one of the strongest influences on this new direction, as is Jasper Johns. The best new art usually encompasses a broad historical tradition, redefining it in the context of contemporary thought. Pop art and hyperrealism are two of the recent figurative traditions that
have been assimilated into the new work.

BBC on Second Life

Second Life