Daz and Chip, Perfect Lovers
As you know, our otter friends in New Zealand, together for 15 years in the delicious waters of New Zealand, died within an hour of each other. What you may not realize is that Daz and Chip were essentially recreating "Untitled (Perfect Lovers)," a minimalist lump-in-your-throat-when-you-realize-what-it's-about work of art by Cuban-American conceptualist Felix Gonzalez-Torres.
The work consists of two standard commercial clocks positioned side by side; together their black plastic frames form the symbol for infinity. The implication of the piece is that, even if you have the good fortune of making a deep and lasting connection with another person here on Earth, eventually the two of you will fall out of sync, one of you will die, and one of you will be left behind. Also: We all die alone.
Gozalez-Torres made the piece in the late '80s, during the height of the AIDS crisis. Another of his works, also untitled, consisted of an installation, on 24 billboards scattered throughout New York City, of a black-and-white photograph of an empty bed. He created that work in 1991 after the death of his boyfriend to AIDS. Gonzalez-Torres himself died of AIDS in 1996.
His work is currently on display in Brussels as part of a major retrospective, "Felix Gonzalez-Torres: Specific Objects without Specific Form," that will travel to Basel next month and Frankfurt next year-and you can catch him on the side of the road in San Antonio.
Simon Dumenco has a few other interests than Justin Bieber.
Also Pyrrha and Deucalion from Greek mythology and Old Dan and Little Ann from Where the Red Fern Grows.
Mary Tyler Moore and America.
A few of the bed billboards are up in NY. There's one at the Silver Towers near NYU.
Lindsay, it's uncanny that you just mentioned "Where the Red Fern Grows," because yesterday afternoon, when my colleague Sheila and I were talking about Daz and Chip, I told her that the first time I remember truly SOBBING as a kid was when I finished that book. (To those who haven't read it, it's about a boy and his dogs.) I remember having to put the book down in the last few pages because I was literally heaving with sobs. I couldn't breathe!
Same exact experience. Read it in middle school and it was one of those rare occasions where everyone could agree no one was a pussy (or whatever derogatory term currently used in middle school) for crying. Everyone seemed affected by it. And if you weren't you are probably a serial killer.
Also, can I say how happy I am that you have more interests than just Bieber?
The pieces he made out of piles of multicolored candy are really amazing as well.
Was wondering if that was him as well. One of those was on display at the Art Institute of Chicago my junior year of high school. I took this highbrow interrelated arts class that had us going there every other month. We had to look at that piece toward the tail end of one of those trips. Even though we were all smart kids, we were still kids, and were like "Hey! Free Candy!" When we got on the bus, our teacher asked us how many of us had taken the candy, and about 90% of us raised our hands. He said, "Congratulations, you just contributed to diminishing the ideal body weight of an AIDS patient."
My wonderful cousin had died of AIDS about 4 years earlier, and I remember spitting out what was left of the candy and feeling physically nauseous with guilt for about 45 minutes. Now that's art that makes you think!
I was close personal friends with Féliz González-Torres's lover (the preferred term), Ross Laycock, and babysat the latter's cats for six months. Félix was a bit of a hypochondriac but, like so many other conceptual artists, was also actually the nicest person, easiest to get along with and fun to be around for everyday things like going shopping, you'd want to meet.
Now, Ross was a piece of work. This was why I liked him.
Because I am a loser, I will self-link to a piece I wrote a couple years ago defending contemporary art by talking about Gonzalez-Torres's piece "A Portrait of Ross," a work I love with my whole heart.
loved what you wrote so much, perhaps mostly because it enlightened me to "A Portrait of Ross", but also because I agreed with your desire for consideration of all conceptual art within the art canon.
Thanks very much.
"Untitled" (the billboards) is not only a poignant work, but also subversive. I too will link to my own piece on "Untitled" called "The Absent Body":
http://www.thegreatwithin.org/2009/11/absent-body-felix-gonzalez-torres-aids.html
Cheers.