Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Transitive Implements







Making things out of metal is my physical inquiry into the nature of human existence. I choose commonplace objects, close to home, and extra ordinary. Ubiquitous as they are, eating utensils function in the intersection between self and not self, the magical moment where matter sustains the spirit.

This inquiry starts in a place of in between-ness. Is this a whole utensil in the process of disintegration or hundreds of silver granules on the way to becoming a utensil? The issue is not of utility versus (useless) art. Rather, these objects have a clearly designed use: to encourage us to think about life.

How different are the processes of coming together and falling apart? To make these Implements, I spent 3 months learning the ancient art of granulation. Failure loomed large as my deadlines approached and only two prototypes carried potential. While inspecting my work, a visiting artist dropped both pieces and the prototypes were mangled. Instead of failure, though, this produced a breakthrough. Following a technical suggestion from the artist who “ruined” my pieces, I produced a full set in three weeks.

Are dissolution and becoming distinct states or stages of a continuum? If one can’t identify the difference, is the distinction arbitrary? Regardless of what I think I know about the state/stage I am in, manufacturing multiple tenuous (but tenacious) connections is my human and artistic goal. Not knowing if this is the beginning (of the end) or the end (of what is beginning) is good. It could go either way.

Rebecca Scheer, 2004

Failure is Built In









Weakness
This series of modified flatware entitled, Weakness, transfers the frailty of human existence into the familiar shapes of knife, fork, spoon. Craft is not the showcase but the sleight of hand that reveals our ambivalent relationship with objects. We display our personality and taste through the language of objects; what might they say about us over time? Slight shifts in the configurations of these familiar forms suggest the complexities of the human psyche and the human form.

Precious
The process of making Weakness began with found silverware rather than raw material. Starting with objects that carry intrinsic personal, aesthetic, and economic value is a challenge of its own. A spoon engraved with a name (Eloise) and a date (1916) refers to a specific life. One may surmise that Eloise selected the flatware pattern herself (perhaps a wedding gift). She made a specific aesthetic choice (as have I), one that she lived with day by day, or perhaps for special occasions only. The objects held value for her once, of that I am sure. The fact that these pieces of silverware were purchased by me in the year 2002 based upon crude weight and the spot price of silver suggests that they no longer carried personal value to anyone in particular, having been traded for pure material value some time ago. But, the cargo of sentimental reference to a life passed imparts the objects with the preciousness of the individual human life. All modifications I made to the flatware were performed with this in mind. It is out of this respect that, to the best of my skill, I retained where found, engraving, dates, tarnish, and the marks of use/misuse (scratches, dents, nicks, etc.). These are the evidence of lives once lived. Nevertheless, my creative choice to modify the utensils demanded a simultaneous destruction of the integrity of the original objects.

Rebecca Scheer, 2002

Futensils: Using Craft to Deconstruct Craft









The Futensils arose as a critical inquiry loosely aligned with one method of literary criticism, deconstruction. The conceptual framework for the project stems less from interest in Derrida's endless chain of signifiers and signifieds than from the linguistic model of binary oppositions that he sought to reveal through the process of deconstruction. In a nutshell, Derrida contended that definitions of what is are always made in opposition to what is not. Definitions are therefore dependent upon an excluded and repressed binary opposite. The role of deconstruction is to call attention to the exclusion, note the necessity of the devalued term, and thereby give value to it.

The work consists of a series of deconstructed silverware which are variously hinged or mechanized to fail to perform their intended functions. The bottom falls out of a spoon. A knife droops rather than cuts. The tines of a fork flap ineffectually. All pieces are laboriously forged and constructed by hand.

Can an object be deconstructed to reveal the underlying oppositional hierarchy that defines it? I contend that a fork is a conceptual construct (no less than a word) that hinges (pun intended) upon the opposition of utility and uselessness. We expect a fork to perform a certain function (piercing, shoveling). If it fails, is it not a fork or just a bad one? The average fork would be considered a product of craft rather than art. Within the world of craft, the useful is valued but, in the world of art, utility is often suspect. In much post-modern art, a highly crafted object is archaic; it's the idea that matters. Why spend time perfecting form and finish (craft) if only the idea matters?

By these underlying definitions of art and craft, this body of work is designed to fail on both counts. The work interrogates the oppositions of art/craft, utility/uselessness, idea/matter, and success/failure, revealing the dependency of the privileged term on its "opposite." The Futensils are designed to align themselves with the devalued term, to fail in ways that subvert the meaning of success.

Nevertheless, one could starve on theory alone. Language and utensils are not essential for life but the act of eating is. Still, the body and mind I sustain through this process will eventually fail me. Failure is built in. The value of this existential trap (our construction and ultimate deconstruction) lies in the meaning we build. Elaborate construction of dysfunctional utensils points to both the futility and wonder of the process itself.

The goal of my deconstruction is not only to point out the lack of definable artistic or craft values but to cultivate awareness of the act of construction. To build (thoughts, words, homes, art) knowing the inevitability of deconstruction, is a heroic act; it points to freedom.

Rebecca Scheer, 2001