For the third and final installment in his series of YouTube Essays, called YouTube Archive + Anarchy, blogger and curator Brent Burket pretty much goes for broke. If this doesn’t get you pumped about YouTube, or at least disturbed enough to stop using it for a few days, there’s no hope for you. From black metal to necrophilia, surrealism and Alice Cooper, these are the YouTube videos you only find at 2 in the morning after a night of heavy drinking. Also, Jeffrey Deitch gets punched and bitches out his attackers like Woody Allen in a pink suit.
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For the second in his series of YouTube Essays, YouTube Archive + Anarchy, blogger and curator Brent Burket selects a mix of art and music, collecting YouTube music videos, amateur documentation of video art pieces and performance art. Check out a Katy Perry introduction and feminist firecracker Karen Finley invading a Sinead O’Connor song, to disastrous and hilarious effect. Click through for the complete VJ set.
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For a fan of art like me, YouTube is a gold mine. I remember when I was in college about the only access I had to the art and music scene in New York City was pouring over the New York Times in the library. The rest was imagination. YouTube brings art and music closer, no matter where you are or when you are. It’s a crazy archive that holds art, new and old. Sometimes its been sanctioned by the artist. Sometimes, not so much. The best thing about art on YouTube is the access that it allows for the viewer and also because of the exposure for artists. Some artists and gallerists might have an issue with that last point. But quite frankly, that’s their problem. Click through for a journey into YouTube’s anarchic archive of art and artistic materials.
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Starting Wednesday, Brooklyn blogger and curator Brent Burket will be curating a three-day YouTube retrospective that mines the insanity of the online video juggernaut to find gems and germs that are sometimes painful to watch but always entertaining. His mission was to present an array of short videos that would give us a taste of the art world there and wait till you see what he has discovered.
Paul Virilio has written extensively about how advances in technology have changed our relationship to time and space. YouTube has been supremely guilty of that crime, AND it’s allowed us to hit repeat it when necessary. Um, awesome …
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And as soon as it started it is now concluded … in our final installment of the complete review of The Brucennial: 229. Lola Schnabel – Generation Next; 230. Tom Fruin – Didn’t like this until I saw the stitching. All our comforts, sewn together in a skin suit; 231. Shelly Silvers – Screen koan. This is really good. Loop solid …
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The reviews never stop on Hyperallergic: 176. David Carlin – Ready for the wound. Lovely, actually.; 177. Aga Olisseinov – Looks like a pagan ritual from The Wild Wild West TV show. Love.; 178. Ann Gillan – To paraphrase and twist Bryan Ferry: Just enough is never too much. I want this …
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And the review marches on with art reviews a plenty in the seemingly impossible task of reviewing the whole Brucennial. Today’s installment reaches #175: 111. Kathe Burkhart – FUCK THE UNDERGROUND. Exactly.; 112. Dolores Haydon – The horror of porn. The porn of horror. Cool the way the scissors and cutting echo the nearby Man Bartlett piece …
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A continuation of the seemingly impossible task of reviewing the ENTIRE Brucennial art exhibition: 51. Sam Hayes – Reminding me of the Sharon Olds poem, The Pope’s Penis; 52. Unknown – Hula Hoop art. I have no objectivity. ROCKS! …
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Five minutes. That’s how long it took me to figure out that I needed not only to review the Brucennial, but that I needed to review all of it. Piece by piece by piece. I owed it to them, some kind of return gesture. I didn’t keep count. I just kept moving. Somebody else can clean up the mess. As John and Exene sang, “The world’s a mess. It’s in my kiss.” But you know what? It’s in yours’ too. So, yes, Bruces. That was my tongue down your collective throat. And now my mouth tastes like cigarettes. Thank you.
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The next morning I took the T (aka, the trolley) into the city, and walked across the bridge to The Warhol. I love The Warhol. (Hate the NO PHOTOS policy though.) It never lets me down. Feels a bit like Mecca to me. Even when I know what’s on, I always come across surprises. The first one greeted me in the 1st floor museum intro room. For the first time, I saw the “Album of a Mat Queen” (1962), Warhol’s silkscreen of the writer and painter Rosalyn Drexler from her days as a professional wrestler. (SORRY. NO PHOTOS.) A huge fan of Drexler, I had only read about this image. This is standard operating procedure at The Warhol. Surprises from their deep collection around every corner. (SORRY. NO PHOTOS.)
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