The Chromatic Typewriter Everyday Art of Empires

Art, Larry Rivers, and People With More Money Than Brains.

The Chromatic Typewriter by Tyree Callahan

Recently the Google+ Art circle I have received art related notices, and so we have been discussing art at times, at length on which I commented. In comments which in kind were responded to by many other people of varied opinions. Commenting not that I consider myself any great authority on matters of art, nor any great financial success as an artist, but in that I recognize I have and am of a mind to state by valid means of conjecture, a restatement of facts. As reason can be used to produce a rational understanding, without neither relying solely on emotions in a strict sense, nor indulging in apathy, nihilism or a cabal of other derogatory methodologies, producing an objective materialist perspective on art, which  can be derived from what commonly passes as chit chat, and banter, that otherwise remaining outside university and the intellectual circles of some very pretentious publication is considered rather academic at best.

One counter-comment came from Michael Romeo La Flamme who describes himself as:

“an avid writer (write drunk, revise sober), voracious reader (so many books so little time), blessed husband (rock on you awesome lady who rocks my world), yorkie fanatic (they’re not my dogs, they’re my children), hobby photographer (Ansel Adams never had as much fun with a camera as I do), slightly heretical Catholic (It’s really not fun being a Catholic unless you’re a minor heretic too, it livens up the dinner conversation), and a damn good cook.”

I took personal exception to Michael, in his audacity to comment, as he posted what little more than personal attacks on me rather than referring to any thing of substantive value:

“Wow, +Andrew Stergiou . Get up on the wrong side of the bed today? I saw this and thought it was a fun piece of creativity. Is it enduring art? Probably not. But it is fun, it is creative, and it makes pretty on a piece of paper. There is nothing wrong with finding and enjoying the whimsical side of life. “

The Everyday Art of Empires

Spoken in what he said, was not what normally what would upset me, but in his gutless whining temerity to say it, following a lack of depth, of the shallowness of his convictions, saying all so glibly in the most casual sense though we had never spoke before. What soon resulted is the cheap sniping that passes for contemporary discussion, and in the unexplained action of him deleting the initial post, and all subsequent remarks  so as to frustrate discussion, which prevented any direct response in kind, after he made others comments a cheap target of his chatter. Such is the shallow nature of the modern American intellect in public spaces online, by allegedly intelligent products of western civilization, where that public has become all to accustomed generally to a corporate culture of love hate, brown nosing sales personnel, encouraged by sycophantic society of favoritism and mercantilism and profits.

ARTS = RATS

How many times do people drag into their miserable lives the romantic notion of being an artist, a writer, a musician, a videographer, when their primary or main source of income is derived else where as trust fund babies, as beneficiaries of alimony, insurance policy settlements. How many actors and actresses make more money as grips on production crews, and struggled waiting to be discovered at the lunch counter of Schwab’s Drugstore on Sunset Boulevard? Many teachers also strive to be poets, musicians, painters, video artists and I wish them the best of luck as much of that part of America which is deluded enough to think “prosperity is soon around the corner”. The fact of the matter that the arts field is not all it is cut out to be, in fact it can be quite humiliating, as we get with a minor rearrangement of the letters in the word arts the word rats.

As I said I wish all mankind the best of luck in their attempts to become artists to which I can well add myself in saying I paint, sculpt, design, draft, engrave, etch, print, compose and perform music, video on occasion publicly (which seems to have become an initiation for every security inspired asshole and idiot to approach you). Which I continues stating I silkscreen, actively published since the age of 12 in varied forms, have been registered as copyrighted author, worked overseas as a musician for a n extended period of time, performed on some of the first cable TV shows in the world, spoken of Radio, performed on TV, appeared in theatre and cinema productions, but by some quirk can not be considered “an artist”. regardless of the people adding me to their Google+ circles, as friends on Facebook, on MySpace, and on Twitter limited to 150 characters, in twits I do not wish to think of my life nor any one else’s life.

So with that I must confess even that can not bother and faze me, for if it did I suppose I would have to quit and never mention anything to do with the arts ever again, but I do object and take strong except to the many people who have over the years spoken of the top of their heads to twist and make issues, especially in the arts, as if those were most rationally based on the “emotions” of aesthetics. Where if someone says something it must be fairly dealt with sensitively and emotionally, from a positive perspective when any purveyors of such sensitive emotional positive perspectives should be prisoners locked up as criminals, just as those that believe such rascals should be taken as inmates to mental institutions. Which does not say much for the many deluded members or ex-members of the middle class, as often that was their forte of experience which was founded on right and the left as the existential joys and sorrows of living which many “trolls” have come to feed on in my being.

Now if I were to work at home, it is the studio space, of a three story house in Pennsylvania (excluding the basement which would make four floors), that is situated far from the “art markets of the world”, and far form the 9 to 5 rat race I want no part of. Some where I can work, producing what I will, as I am so inclined to do so, or desire. Where over the years, I have worked with many, most commonly available materials, including artist supply materials, then some such as gold and silver when I was once in the jewelry industry, where often I do not retain the fruits of my labors, and where money is no compensation for living my life. For when most speak, galleries, art dealers, artists, students, the public of the selling, display, and archiving of art work that is glorified systemically in this country (the United States of America), we are should be saying and speak of “the theft of art”, “the fraud of art”, the “international trafficking in stolen art”, “the demeaning of art”, and “the murder of artists”. For the foundation of art trades in western society is founded on the organized systemic theft of art, that begins with the British Crown’s involvement with the Elgin Marbles (circa 447–438 BCE Dimensions75 m -247 ft, at the British Museum, London) stolen from the Pantheon in Athens Greece, as the alleged foundations of “western art”, which most of the world calls corporate capitalist barbarism.

So generally the fact of the matter is I have no objection to works pretentiously presented as “The Chromatic Typewriter”, if it was properly presented as perhaps a lark, or as something else, as something perhaps cute, or clever, but not as ill conceived non-functional object, that for alone is not good as a reason enough to call it “art”, nor to say it is entitled to any contest award, let alone a $25,000 prize award from a gallery. No, No, SORRY!

Perhaps I have no concept of “the marketing and merchandising of art”, after all, I do not call it “the marketing and merchandising of art”, but “the theft of art”, “the demeaning of art”, “, “the fraud of art”, the “international trafficking in stolen art”, “the demeaning of art”, and “the murder of artists”. I am not privy to the latest and greatest private financial statements of those who might qualify as “recognized artists”, and “recognized collectors”,  of “recognized dealers”, recognized by the legal terminology espoused by insurance companies, and courts alike which perpetuate “the theft of art”, “the demeaning of art”, and “the murder of artists”. I am even unsure and not assured by the likes of Larry Rivers, though I met Larry Rivers (is he alive), when we last met accidentally, attending a session of the Civil Court of the City ofNewYork. We he was in dispute with a dealer, and I with a landlord, in matters of our own personal interests of our own individual concern, during which we never discussed money, but instead hi, hello, how are you etcetera.

 

On occasion I have expressed very strong views as I most often I express them in the figurative colloquial sense rather than the literal sense. Here I am not arguing with these feeble arguments, in what was sarcastically posted against me,  but for the integrity of what I do, concerning the world generally, related to art in particular. That which in regard to art, considering the production of art; the perspectives of artists (if any one can call themselves artists any more), so as to include the community at large (“the public”), which as broadminded as I can be, no matter how advanced I am, regardless of how much one can be or not, being behind or ahead of the curve: the question is not always, in what matters, where all elements can be considered always equal, “as some are more equal than others”.

Where being that this gallery award is decided by an online internet that I would never participate in, calmly I stated “Ezra Pound came in 2nd place [once] in the Newark NJ tercentennial Poetry contest losing to a native of Newark”. Where were winners are decided by popular vote under Hitler and Pontius Pilate meant, Nazis would win, popularity means Big Macs, Barabbas gets off rather than Jesus.

I said “I am glad that insultinglyAmericahas nothing better than popular votes by which it judges cutesy, artsy, and French fried”

But I was wrong in one sense, in stating off the top of my head what I said, because it was actually “The Newark Anniversary Poems: Winners In The Poetry Competition Held In Connection With The 250Th Anniversary Celebration Of The Founding Of The City Of Newark, New Jersey, May To October, 1916, Together With The Official Newark Celebration Ode And Other Anniversary Poems”. But then again no one challenged me on it, no one corrected me in what I said, and in what I should have been corrected (that pisses me off as much as senseless criticism).

The Everyday Art of Empires

Initially I asked an honest and forthright valid question:

“Can we actually say this is the advancement of art? After all it is actually essentially a cast iron typewriter which has been declared by the same lunatics that call this “art” to be part of a passé industrial period. In that mode of industrial production”.

 Some to their credit compared it the work by Marcel Duchamp.

Fountain 1917 by Marcel DuChamp

But none the less the product of an industrial society, that has been usurped as the basis of art by a society without real respect and regard for what is industrial society, as a “post-industrial society”, within the artificial constructions of a “post-modern world”, of the “endless therapeutic deconstructions”. A solipsistic hypocritical society, that which  has allowed for the endless senseless “production of art”, by the mere fact of existing, not that it values art, or in the value of art, or in rightful support of the arts, as it cuts as expendable expenditures for art education for the young, fosters elitism in its favoritism of the “bright and gifted”. In art stolen for the past and the future so as to indulge the present. An industrial society that has produced the means and ways to produce art, and an industrial way of life to which I pay homage. In Art as the product of an industrial society, not precisely industry, that which is produced as a direct result of the labor of a working class, regardless of the economic class of the artist, both of which has been under attack for some time as redundant, superfluous, unappreciated and unneeded so as to create the pretexts for austerity budgets, the outsourcing of whole industries, and the foundations of a decadent form of capitalist art and economics in decline.

Marcel Du Champ

In an industrial society:

“that has since then it was declared by them and their consumerist crap society to be post-modern, post-industrial post-feminist all without producing even the semblance of something etc at best they cannibalize products that you can not dream of designing (in this case a typewriter) stolen from that period of time before they were born but helped destroy. As if they can take original art only found in museums of the same period 1920s 30s 40s and use that to produce something they call their own in what they call “art”. How absurd does it get that what they call the art is not in the production or conception but in the con job that is baseless stealing. If they had designed and made an original typewriter of their own I would give them credit for something as it is it is stolen in that the artists name who produced this work is clearly on the machine as produced by the Underwood Typewriter Company, an old established firm of engineers craftsmen and artists. Give the credit to the real artist them.”

Where Baseless Criticisms were made online that did not bother to quote what exactly they were referring to, when we were not even examining the same context looking at the same photograph in their statement to me:

“Andrew, your focus on the tool is off-base. The typewriter here is no more the cause of art than the paintbrush, no more the author of a novel than any other typewriter. What makes this idea interesting is that it subverts the typewriter, altering it into a tool for tapping out a raster image. Certainly the Underwood Company, its designers and all deserve credit, but not as artists. 10:36 PM ” Bill Brody (Google+)”

 Where what I saw was an object that was simply arbitrarily and capriciously placed in another “dog and pony show”, another dreaded cattle call contest for “starving artists” asked to compete as competitors, where the winner is decided by “popular vote”, where one could do well in questioning the public’s taste, as artists rather than collaborate as colleagues. Perhaps literally one day they will say we have enough to assist only half of the artists so that the first half which survives wins, just as J.P. Morgan is know to having said he “can hire half the working class to defeat the other half”, and such contests represent the strategy of divide and conquer, where that prize money totaling more than $300,000, would be better spent expanding any art programs, as the one vaguely described as Western.

I stated that:

The entries were part of  the “‎2012 West Prize competition” described as part of the Paige West Gallery, that George C. Scott may have referred to in what he called glorified “dog and pony shows”.

“George C. Scott portrayed George S. Patton in the 1970 film Patton and researched extensively for the role, studying films of the general and talking to those who knew him. Scott refused the Oscar nomination for Patton, just as he had done for his 1962 nomination for The Hustler. In a letter to theMotionPictureAcademyhe stated that he didn’t feel himself to be in competition with other actors. However, regarding this second rejection of the Academy Award, Scott famously said elsewhere, ‘The whole thing is a goddamn meat parade. I don’t want any part of it.’ “

Second This type of work not merely pretentious, but contemptuously pretentious, in preferentially treatment of a double standard, contrived based upon privileges, where they have not only benefit, but benefit without consciousness of that ‎privilege, contrived as presented without more than void and ignorance of self, and the world as an excuse. Devoid and lacking of empathy and consistency.

The Everyday Art of Empires

 

Where “The Chromatic Typewriter” described as a “a functional ‘painting’ device called the ‘Chromatic Typewriter‎’ by Washington-based painter Tyree Callahan. Presented by the artist not as “art” or an “art work” but as  a device, though it was originally a device, before and after it was “modified”, as much as before it was “a 1937 Underwood Standard typewriter, replacing the letters and keys with color pads ‎and hued labels to”, as much “art” of the artist as anything bought and sold as a finished product, not produced as a result of the human process, as the result of the “post-industrial society” of consumerism not producing, where even human defecation in a toilet bowl photographed, sculpted, painted, sketched is more so art as entirely produced by the artist.

The Everyday Art of Empires

Where in argument, I am patronized on one hand, in that some state they “have no problem with [my] rant against the corruption and decadence of the art world or the evils of capitalism, nor do I fault ‎you for your animus toward the pretentiousness and contempt so common in much of the art world”; and,

As the ignorant, savage, “unenlightened” in the ways of modern capitalism, and furthermore attacked by on the other hand, where they spoke “authoritatively:” as if “authorities”, in a world without authorities, standards, or well founded conceptions stating:

“I am simply wrong to suggest ‎that the true artist can make their art out in the jungle.” (Bill Brody )

Though people as artists work every day in jungles, may those be Amazon jungles, or Asian jungles, or African jungles, or European and North American concrete jungles. Where there is a double standard in play, where the vested interests of academia and “art merchants” that selectively calls art dependent of their self-interests based upon what they are producing, or selling, or giving classes on, or writing books about. Where people are pretentious to think of themselves as greatly distinguished from “animals in a jungle”.

Where the “The Jungle is a 1906 novel written by journalist Upton Sinclair. Sinclair wrote the novel with the intention of portraying the life of the immigrant in the United States, but readers were more concerned with the large portion of the book pertaining to the corruption of the American meatpacking industry during the early 20th century, and the book is now often interpreted and taught as a journalist’s exposure of the poor health conditions in this industry. The novel depicts in harsh tones poverty, absence of social programs, unpleasant living and working conditions, and hopelessness prevalent among the working class, which is contrasted with the deeply-rooted corruption on the part of those in power. Sinclair’s observations of the state of turn-of-the-twentieth-century labor were placed front and center for the American public to see, suggesting that something needed to be changed to get rid of American wage slavery.”; and drawn now upon as a figurative image in reference to the barbaric nature of “western art”.

Where the ability to conceptualize art maybe limited, but where the product of that formal lack of education and indoctrination lends greater strength to art in what is produced, offered in opposition, rather than the swill all the “art galleries”, “university fine arts programs”, corporate published “art books”, “fine art academics”, and the “Art world” cliques can ever produce collectively. Unofficial art (especially that of under-appreciated forms, that have traditionally been copied and plagiarized by western “artists” and society: In a process of “art” where in its efforts on behalf of capitalist culture and of cultural neo-imperialism, is for the advancement of that capitalist society, as part of a cultural war suggesting it is the greatest of all masters, though as masters, it is a decadent society in decline.

The Everyday Art of Empires

Where the typewriter convolutedly is viewed as a canvas, or a palate, where I place the context in discussion within a social framework, as much as other attempt to claim I take it out of the social context of frame work, by which they do a great disservice in speaking without quoting I allow their words to speak for them, and my words to speak for me.

“It appears that you have the idea that true art and true artists create from somewhere ‎beyond human connection, without recourse to technology of any kind. Technology is the socially transmitted use of tools. Artist are ‎humans first of all and as such are products of social connections as well as their genetics. Without human contact that most fundamental ‎of technologies, language, is impossible. Without some sort of technological basis, making anything at all is extremely difficult. I know how ‎to make basic art materials from scratch such as brushes, charcoal, water and oil paints, and paper, but I could never have learned all of ‎this on my own. For that matter why would I even try without a history of others around me? Most of all I learned these things by reading, ‎talking, listening and watching, only part of which was or even could have been all on my own.  Yes, the art world is unfair, pretentious and corrupt, just as any social group. Artists and art critics are no better or worse than any other ‎self-serving class. In the case of the color typewriter, I like the concept; I think it is fun; I think the designers did a witty and pretty low-tech ‎job. I would not enjoy using the tool for my own work, because the logical extension of the color typewriter is that it is a raster printer, not ‎much different from a color dot matrix printer, a tool best used with computer input.” (Bill Brody ).

The Everyday Art of Empires

Where the bottom line is the question I posed in asking “Can we actually say this is the advancement of art? After all it is actually essentially a cast iron typewriter which has been declared by the same lunatics that call this “art” to be part of a passé industrial period. In that mode of industrial production”, and the answer is as simple today as it was yesterday with the advent of Dadaism. For if we look back to analysis the purpose of Dadaism which was originally envisioned as a form of “non-art art” ridiculing “what its participants considered to be the meaninglessness of the modern world. In addition to being anti-war, dada was also anti-bourgeois and anarchist in nature” it has not succeeded, but in fact become the foremost vehicle for the very same institutions it has opposed, as most so as the purist elitism of “pure art”, and which is merely presented as cheap commercialization of a limited nature.

The Everyday Art of Empires

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