@birdpolar aaaaaaa you gotta take photos!! and tell me all about it!! please? ahaksjdoabrja
spencer got me into them like two? two weeks ago? i don’t remember and i LOVÉ !! and i was looking at the website because i thought Coast Modern was coming in April (they’re not) and i saw it and i was like !!!!!!!
OMgg you’re going to have so much fun!! for real you have to tell me about it. ive only ever been to two concerts. Taylor Swift’s fearless tour in 8th grade then Party in the Park in 2013 so i’m always wanting to hear about people’s experiences
Hahaha oh god my face.
Okay, I realize setting up my camera on a tripod and using a remote to take about 50 pictures of myself is a tad vain, but my boyfriend teases me about it all the time (resulting in this photo)! So it’s impossible for me to get a big head. Also remember that I pretty much never take myself seriously - that’s why I named my blog larplyyyyyyf, it was a dumb hashtag I used on an Instagram photo when I first started Swordcraft and it reminds me larping should always be fun and not to take myself too seriously - even though I pose for pictures all the time.
I work hard for the things I create and I’m proud to show them off. It’s taken me almost all my life to like the person I am and LARP has helped me a rediculous amount. I love my hobby, I like my blog and I even like my self. And I appreciate every single one of my followers.
Thanks guys 💐
The red part of the column is an art work by the conceptual artist we worked with.
Oftentimes we have a relationship with artworks that force us to maintain a certain safety distance from them, as if those objects are so ‘glorified’ we find ourselves unable to touch them. Museums and galleries everywhere sort of impose this idea on us not only because of millenia of art that sort of makes us scared of damaging it, but also because we tend to consider art to be a part of this whole other sphere where there is no place for interaction. We assume that touching, interacting and playing with a work of art is damaging for it unless expressively stated by the artist. We are not supposed to touch an artwork, period.
This work in particular is called À Altura da Artista, meaning At The Artist’s Height. The artist (her name is Luisa Cunha), who works on text through sound mostly, but also through other media, is very concerned about words and their double meaning. This artwork is the measurement of her height on the column painted in red, so to express her presence inside the room in a bright color that is then able to dialogue with all the other pieces (she discussed with us the possibility of painting it black, but was concerned that black would ‘concentrate’ too much in itself; kind of like Kandinsky consider a black dot a concentration of all strength). It’s almost a substitute for herself. But it’s also a work that is validated through its title. We know it’s a work of art because it is named like a work of art (the artist said herself said it lives with the same strength as Ducahmp’s La Fontaine, in which the new meaning behind the words that name this simple urinal is also a mechanism of validating it in terms of an artifact that becomes a part of the museum).
Setting up the exhibition, the artist gave us instructions on what the artwork should be. We measured the height with her marked the column and then painted it red for the course of two days.
Throughout the process, there was a really interesting, positive interaction with it. We had to crouch and get up again, like a gymnastics exercise, to make the artwork complete, going up and down in consecutive brushstrokes carefully measured to make the paint uniform and solid. In the end, we had to use small brushes to clean the dirty area and make the edges clean and straight.
When it dried, my friends and I started making jokes about ourselves and the work. Some of use would say: hah!, I’m the same height as the artist, look! And would stand next to it comparing themselves to the work. I would then say: hah!, I’m taller than the artist. Others would say things like: wow, this how the she sees the world, haha! And we would comment on how different we saw things from her height. When my friend and I were painting the edges, someone shorter than us would say: I couldn’t possibly do that because I’m not tall enough!, I’m shorter than the artist!
Then, of course, it all turned into a child’s play. In the last picture you see me and my friend attempting to either stand at the artist’s height (like she does) or proving that we’re taller (like I’m doing). Then we would stand in silly poses as if we were posing with the artist herself. We would grab the column and wrap our arms or legs around it and play with it in a way that it really worked as a substitute for the artist herself.
Of course, on some of the picture, you can see we’re holding wine glasses and you can pretty much guess what the context was, and yes, that was taken at the opening night. But that was also four days after we began constructing the artwork, and by then, our relationship with the work itself had become the same we had developed with the artist herself. It was as if the artwork and the artist were the same presence, and the confidence we developed with one and the other shows in these pictures.
And it’s funny to see how the process of curating this artwork in particular shattered the distance set between spectator and artwork. Most visitors didn’t have this reaction, of course, but to us, it was a standard object that had gained another meaning, one that communicated with us entirely. In the beginning, when the artist expressed the concept of her work, as so often happens with contemporary art, I understood it but part of me was unsure of its effectiveness. But after a week of work into integrating it in the exhibition, that meaning and concept became so clear none of us seemed to even think about it anymore.
And it’s really interesting to me how curating an exhibition, when done with a close relationship with the artist, and when involving artworks that demand our own participation in its construction, destroyed that distance that seems to exist within the sphere of art, behind this glorified meaning, and ultimately drew us so close to the artwork itself that, in a sense, it gave it its full meaning.