Monday, November 24, 2014

A Discussion: Adventures in Taxidermy, Melissa Milgrom


            Initially, what began as a lecture attended at the local Nevada Museum of Art immediately started with me asking myself, “Adventures and Taxidermy should not be used together in the same sentence.” Guided by a PowerPoint with Milgrom leading the lecture she began to discuss taxidermy and addressed it as a “deceptively complicated topic,” I imagined this to be due to the fact that people typically think of these professionals as stuffing loved ones pets to keep around like some Frankenstein relic of an old family friend. Or more commonly regarding taxidermy as the profession of mounting deer heads to walls, which for many, can come off a bit macabre, even from those who love the sport of hunting. I was unaware, however, that in addition to these common misconceptions Milgrom was also discussing the complicated nature of the art of taxidermy and the ‘artists’ involved.

            Taxidermy, as she frankly stated, is the art of juxtapositions not just for the conceptions of the type of “barbaric” people it would take to create such pieces made from dead animals, but also for the art itself. Milgrom declared that “artists are not obliged to tell the truth” and indeed the very practice of taxidermy is to recreate some organism that has died to make it appear living again. Even before taxidermy became as widely used as it once was in natural history museums, it was a prominent feature of cabinets of curiosities. These private collections of exotic things almost exclusively belonged to upper class members intent on showing their worldliness through bizarre items brought back from the corners of the globe. They also consisted of strange combinations of animal parts displayed in odd ways making new fictional creatures. With the advent of better technology and rising curiosity about animals not typically seen, taxidermy became more advanced and even scientific. In fact taxidermy in the late 1700s to early 1800s was almost exclusively scientific with these new interests in the inner workings of organisms and an overall fascination of the complexity of nature. Milgrom discussed taxidermy’s current struggle as not only a dying industry, but also as attempting to distinguish itself apart from science. The difficulty in this lies in the nature of taxidermy itself, a properly done piece is overtly scientific down to the sculpting of muscles and every little detail whereas anything less appears “off” and can even be grotesque. Milgrom states that a balance between these two, much like a single mark left by an artist on an otherwise flawless porcelain vase, is the key to taxidermy as an art.

            As previously stated, another juxtaposition of taxidermy lies with the ‘artists’ who practice it. Milgrom was very careful to address preconceptions about taxidermists as twisted individuals with no regards for natural organisms other than their value as trophies. Although I myself did conform to such views of taxidermists she made a case that all taxidermists deeply care for animals, insisting that “the best taxidermists love animals the most.” She stated that because the nature of their work relies on the input of animals and the recreation of them takes such calculated scientific procedures and attention to detail, there is no better reason for them to love animals and fight to preserve them to thus preserve their own way of life. This deep love of animals and natural appreciation was evident in multiple stories of taxidermists such as Carl Akeley as well as Milgrom’s own experiences. A current crisis in the industry among taxidermists is the driving out of passionate amateurs as practitioners specialize. Milgrom argues this crisis is not unlike other crises experienced in other forms of art such as painting where a culture is created around the famous artists and masterpieces pushing the practice further away from the general populace.

            An interesting dichotomy exists in the world of taxidermy fueled by misconceptions according to Milgrom. These misconceptions range from beliefs in the nature of taxidermists themselves and also in the artwork of taxidermy. However, despite her passionate defense of a dying art reliant upon true artists I remain unconvinced of the legitimacy of taxidermy as an ‘artform.’ This may be a result of my preconceived notions of taxidermy as trophy-making from nature or the gruesomeness of the practice itself. However, I find taxidermy to be more along the lines of a craft requiring an impressive skillset given the nature of taxidermy to convey one message – this is an animal recreated. However, artists such as Damien Hirst utilize taxidermy to make more provocative statements critiquing aspects of nature and society itself which I believe lends his pieces more toward an artistic conversation.  

A Discussion, Justin Maes: Return of the Gold



            Justin Maes engages in an interesting topic on personal identity through a creative and distinctly individualized perspective illustrated in his works. This gallery consisted of numerous pieces including “The Son,” “The Spirit,” “Guidance and Direction,” “Almost Cotton,” “Chicken Feed,” “Golden Cactus,” and “Stay Gold.” The most notable element in the gallery upon entering was the absence of any placards stating the artist’s intentions and even titles of the pieces. It is natural, in this instance, to assume the absence of such information was done so intentionally thus posing numerous questions about the importance of authorship and viewer interpretation. The most apt summation of such a gallery lies in the relationship of all gallery pieces to convey a theme or elicit a feeling or action from the viewer. In this case many of the pieces seemed to be made from, or referencing, typically rural/westernized materials. This was seen in the case of the cactus, the elongated shadows of the chickens vaguely referencing cowboy silhouettes, cattle iconography, re-appropriated designs made from reflective construction signs, and the Western-styled video/performance pieces. In each instance it was apparent the influence of these rural cowboy-esk themes, however, contradictory to the rugged and dusty iconography drawn from in each of these pieces there was also a distinct use of gold. Pieces such as “Golden Cactus” displayed this juxtaposition of themes overtly. Such gilding of objects reflects Maes’s own struggle with personal identity and perhaps a desire to gild or embellish his western roots being raised in Nevada. Another interesting individualized style noted by the viewer is the symmetrical-tessellation appearance of two colorful pieces in reflecting placements facing each other on two paralleling walls. Although not immediately gilded (aside from the horns and nose of the central bull), upon closer inspection, the viewer can notice gold edging around the cut out pieces used to construct the tessellation emitted outward from a central point where a bull’s head stares outward. The stylized colorful geometric patterns extending outward are comprised of similar iconography including ram and sheep heads, the mirroring piece predominantly features pink cherubs but also contains red six shooters. The colorful tessellation arrangement of these outer motifs resembles Latin-influenced artwork similar to colorful geometric displays seen in Dia De Los Muertos in Mexico. This stylization may also be a throwback to Maes’s own heritage and his attempted gilding and artistic transformation of it. The video performances, although not overtly displaying similar identity-gilding, do show westernized performances including a duel and other iconic cowboy-like matter in a sincere, but comic way. The viewer likewise gets the sense that the production quality combined with the performance of the actors is somewhat forced and taken lightheartedly reflecting Maes’s feelings toward this westernized aspect of his identity. I also viewed the cattle used throughout the gallery setting as commentary on masculinity. Its bold presence, particularly in a feature piece displaying a massive gilded bull’s head, seems uncertain in its dramatic and persistent reminder of masculinity perhaps reflecting Maes’s own needs to dramatically display his masculinity. Overall I enjoyed the show Return of the Gold aesthetically however found its lack of traditional gallery descriptions confusing despite its significance to Maes’s own non-traditional identity display through his pieces.