Page 1

2006–2007

511

west 25 th street, new york, ny www.cueartfoundation.org

10001

cupola bobber


CUE ART FOUNDATION’S OPERATIONS AND PROGRAMS ARE MADE POSSIBLE WITH THE GENEROUS SUPPORT OF FOUNDATIONS, CORPORATIONS, GOVERNMENT AGENCIES, INDIVIDUALS, AND ITS MEMBERSHIP. PROGRAMMING ASSISTANCE IS PROVIDED BY: ACCADEMIA CHARITABLE FOUNDATION, LTD., AMERICAN EXPRESS COMPANY, MILTON & SALLY AVERY ARTS FOUNDATION, HOLLAND & KNIGHT CHARITABLE FOUNDATION, INC., JOAN MITCHELL FOUNDATION, VIKING FOUNDATION, THE ANDY WARHOL FOUNDATION FOR THE VISUAL ARTS, AND WITH PUBLIC FUNDS FROM THE CITY OF NEW YORK DEPARTMENT OF CULTURAL AFFAIRS AND THE NEW YORK STATE COUNCIL ON THE ARTS THROUGH THE LOWER MANHATTAN CULTURAL COUNCIL AND THE EXPERIMENTAL TELEVISION CENTER.


cu p o l a b o b b e r

CUE Art Foundation February 1 – March 10, 2007

With performances of The Man Who Pictured Space From His Apartment

Friday, February 2 and Saturday, February 3, 2007

Curated by Goat Island

Forward still tk

LEAD SPONSOR OF 2006-07 SEASON OF EXHIBITION CATALOGUES: KYESUNG PAPER GROUP (SOUTH KOREA) ADDITIONAL SUPPORT PROVIDED BY ELIZABETH FIRESTONE GRAHAM FOUNDATION


Artists' Statement

Cupola Bobber

Curators' Statement

Goat Island: Karen Christopher, Matthew Goulish, Lin Hixson, Mark Jeffery, Bryan Saner, Litó Walkey

Cupola Bobber is creating a new aesthetic using a process of collaboration, research, and

Oh say can you see two liberty heads where there was once one standing on the threshold of

rehearsal. We work slowly out of our studio on Chicago’s northwest side, mixing basic materials

America? 2000, a room 9 floors high, newspaper is populated, crumpled like tumbleweed moving

with homespun engineering, bumbling wit, and a fascination for the tension in a beautiful moment

along the floor. What is news without The New York Times, in a time of BREAKING/ALERT, what

to make delicate work that surprises viewers with its unique detail, humor, and thoughtfulness.

remains? Hear the slapstick sound of 2x4’s choreographed with string constructing a rhythm and

a wooden mantrap. He will be a Cupola Bobber and it will be a star, a satellite, and a crown. (This

We aim to use this simple aesthetic to explore the world for an hour or two, look

at it from arm's length, creating a new system for the audience to discover meaning. Intimacy,

introduction has been collaboratively written; please forgive any syntactic confusion between

delicacy, and confusion are important; exhaustion is deployed to dramatize minutia. It’s important

singular and plural.)

to us for our performances to effectively slow down — make a moment a monument.

We saw the diminishing body of a man becoming its physical component elements

of salt and sweat. They carry their home, their universe, on their backs—a cosmology part kaijin*, part Buster Keaton, part agoraphobic dread—like turtles, like immeasurable space folded into a matchbox. It will pose inside the scenery and he will mistake his shape for tall buildings. She, the statue of liberty, doubles unsettling the settling of our land into a shout of discovery. Deceptive fixity comes unhinged in the tumble of flight taken by the material or while looking for it, one of them turns text into sandwiches, he asked to have them watered and somehow this makes sense, the other says: try to stop me, I’m dancing. Stephen and Tyler created something we couldn’t see in front of our eyes and how it got there; performance as body unmediated by the eye.

The world is not a conclusion, they say, but an irretrievable scattering of stars at

the limit of concentration. He will show you his thinking and it will sweat through t-shirts. Their performances look towards the night-sky, another surface, with strings they stand waiting for the horizon. Did we mention …? Sometimes when I see them I get lost in the stern of their foreheads, the concentration. Your hopes and dreams are gathered in their solid bodies, the stars aren’t in their eyes but in their hair.

*literally mysterious person, this Japanese special effects film term connotes a humanoid monster


Documentation from the performance Subterfuge, 2001

Image from the performance of Subterfuge, 2001


Image from the performance Subterfuge, 2001

Image from the performance Subterfuge, 2001


Documentation from the performance Subterfuge, 2001

Image from the performance Petitmal, 2004


Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to lock 31,680 more doors, and then I won’t have to lock any more doors. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to decorate 44 more Christmas trees, and then I won’t have to decorate any more Christmas trees. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to have 2,004 more hangovers, and then I won’t have to have another hangover again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to eat 7,128 more cookies, and then I won’t have to eat another cookie again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to go to bed 15,840 more times, and then I won’t have to go to bed again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to meet 4,752 new people, and then I won’t have to meet any more new people. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to take out the trash 2,288 more times, and then I won’t have to take out the trash again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to drink 11,440 more cups of coffee, and then I won’t have to drink another cup of coffee. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to have my heart broken 12 more times, and then I won’t have to have my heart broken again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to stifle my laughter 13,728 more times, and then I won’t have to stifle my laughter again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to change 1,056 more light bulbs, and then I won’t have to change any more light bulbs. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have button my pants 63,360 more times, and then I won’t have to button my pants again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to hang up the phone 65, 728 more times, and then I won’t have to hang up the phone again. Everything is going to be okay, because I’ll get excited to hear that song 22 more times, and then I won’t have to be excited to hear that song again. Everything is going to be okay, because I only have to wake up 15,839 more times, and then I won’t have to wake up again.

Image from the performance Petitmal, 2004

Image from the performance Petitmal, 2004


I happened to be passing by your home last night I noticed that your bedroom window was open. I was wondering if it gets cold in that room when you are asleep, if it does I was wondering if in the middle of the night when you wake up you put on your slippers and walk across the floor to turn off the blue humming television, if you do I was wondering if you go straight back to bed. If you do go back can you feel the indenture in the sheets, the place where your body made its mark while sleeping, is the bed still warm? If it is, do you find it hard to fall back to sleep? If you do I was wondering if you put your slippers back on and walk out of the bedroom? And if you do, do you go into the kitchen? If you do, I was wondering if you open the refrigerator door and look inside? And when you look inside do you look for the milk, and when you find the milk is it at the back of the refrigerator. If it is I was wondering, do you reach for the carton without moving all that is in front of it? And if you do, when bringing it towards you do you knock over the leftover applesauce from dinner? If you do, do you leave it there and promise yourself that you will clean it up tomorrow morning before anyone sees it? Do you now begin to drink straight from the carton of milk, chugging quickly? If you do I was wondering if it takes a few moments for you to feel the milk filling up your stomach? Does it take just as long for it to come back up when you see a spider crawling across the ceiling? If it does do you promise yourself that you will clean up the milk with the applesauce? If you do, do you take a chair from the kitchen table to get a closer look at the spider? And if you do, do you take a good long look at the spider? Do you look into its eyes and see not only your reflection but also that of your family, friends, coworkers, ex-lovers, teachers, pets, plants and acquaintances. And if you do, do you get lost in the thought? And if you do, does it take a few moments for you to fall to the floor landing in a puddle of milk and losing your left slipper? If it does, does it take you a few minutes to regain consciousness? And if it does, do you have unconscious dreams that include: clouds that look like you, trees that look like you, mown lawns whose pattern is in your likeness, and crashing waves that sound like your name whispered? And if you do, does your consciousness return slowly, like tea soaking into a crisp Madeleine cookie? And if it does, do you quickly see six memories of childhood as you slowly get up off the ground? Do you take a minute to regroup, while putting your slipper back on, trying your hardest not to look up. If you do, do you start to make your way back to the bedroom leaving traces of milk on the carpet? And if you do, do you stop to turn off the lamp in the living room, which is next to the couch, which is next to the bookshelf, which is next to the picture of your mother, which is next to the throw rug, which is next to the thin tall plant whose shadow keeps time on the throw rug’s stripes when the sun is out? And if you do, I was wondering if you find a quilt lying on the ground. And if you do, do you take time to fold it before you turn out the light? And if you do, I was wondering if you swear to yourself that you had done this before you went to bed? And if you do, do you turn out the light and imagine the quilt on the couch is dancing? And do you quickly turn the light on to find the quilt just as you left it? If you do, do you turn the light off and head back down the hall towards your bedroom? When you get back to the room do you now undress and lay back in the place where your body once lay motionless. And if you do, I was wondering are the sheets still warm? Or have they grown cold from the open window? And if they have, do you try and distract yourself by closing your eyes and imagining energy ribbons in the sky above your room? And if you do, do you imagine building a catapult that would throw you through your roof into the energy ribbons?

Image from the performance Petitmal, 2004

Text from the performance Petitmal, 2004


Study for a performance, 2002

Image from the performance Light Curve, 2006


Studies for the performance: The Man Who Pictured Space From His Apartment, 2007

Study for the performance: The Man Who Pictured Space From His Apartment, 2007


Biography

Cupola Bobber

Biography

Goat Island

Cupola Bobber is a collaboration between Stephen Fiehn and Tyler Myers. Founded in 1999 they

Goat Island is a performance group based in Chicago who have created eight works since 1987,

have created three evening length performances; 2001’s Subterfuge , 2004’s Petitmal, and 2007’s

including How Dear to Me the Hour When Daylight Dies, The Sea & Poison, It’s an Earthquake in

premiere of The Man Who Pictured Space From His Apartment. They have performed at the

My Heart, and When will the September roses bloom? Last night was only a comedy, which was

PAC/edge festival, The Spareroom, and Links Hall in Chicago and Performance Works Northwest

selected for the 37th Annual Venice Biennale International Theater Festival. Their work includes

in Portland, OR. They also performed a durational work, Light Curve, in Chicago’s Millenium Park

collaborative writing, artists’ books, films, and hypertext projects. They regularly teach workshops

as part of the Great Performers of Illinois festival, in a curated durational event titled Intimate and

and classes on collaboration. The members are Karen Christopher, Matthew Goulish, Lin Hixson,

Epic. In 2002 they made a video installation, Study For a Performance in the salt flats just east

Mark Jeffery, Bryan Saner, and Litó Walkey; and associate members are Cynthia Ashby, Lucy Cash,

of Wendover, Utah. Published writing includes A Conversation in 50 Jumps Using a Trampoline

CJ Mitchell, Judd Morrissey, Margaret Nelson, and Chantal Zakari.

and a Cliff in JUMP, an anthology on jumping, and Internal Monologue for One Performer Taking One Step Slowly in SLOW. They have served as visiting artists for SAIC’s First Year Program and for Goat Island’s Summer School. Petitmal received a Best of PAC/edge award, and they won a pair of Nelson Raymond Fellowships from The School of the Art Institute with their BFA’s in 2001. Stephen Fiehn also plays in the band Fessenden. Tyler also makes work with Chicago art collective Lucky Pierre.


Mission Statement

CUE Art Foundation

CUE Art Foundation, a 501 (c)(3) non-profit arts organization, is dedicated

Board of Directors

to providing a comprehensive creative forum for contemporary art by

Gregory Amenoff

supporting under-recognized artists via a multi-faceted mission spanning

Theodore S. Berger

the realms of gallery exhibitions, professional development programs and

Patricia Caesar

arts-in-education. The foundation was established in June of 2002 with the

Thomas G. Devine

aim of providing educational programs for young artists and aspiring art

Thomas K. Y. Hsu

professionals in New York and from around the country. These programs

Brian D. Starer

draw on the unique community of artists, critics, and educators brought together by the foundation’s season of exhibitions, public lectures,

Advisory Council

workshops, and its studio residency program: all are designed to be of

Gregory Amenoff

lasting practical benefit to aspiring and under-recognized artists. The entire

William Corbett

CUE identity is characterized by artistic quality, independent judgment and

Meg Cranston

the discovery of genuine talent, and provides long-term benefits both for

Vernon Fisher

creative individuals associated with CUE and the larger art marketplace.

Malik Gaines

Located in New York’s Chelsea gallery district, CUE’s 4,500 square feet of

Deborah Kass

gallery, studio and office space serves as the nexus for educational programs

Irving Sandler

and exhibitions conducted by CUE. executive Director Jeremy Adams Director of development Elaine Bowen

Thank you to Ken Wilson and Jennifer Korff for some of the photography in this book.

programs coordinator Beatrice Wolert-Weese

ISBN-13: 978-0-9776417-9-6 ISBN-10: 0-9776417-9-1

programs assistant Kara Smith

All artwork © Cupola Bobber Catalog designed by Elizabeth Ellis Printed on TriPine paper of KyeSung Paper Group (South Korea) Cover: TriPine Art Nouveau 209gsm (78lb), Text: TriPine Silk 157gsm (106lb) Printer: Yon Art Printing (South Korea)


Cupola Bobber  

Cupola Bobber exhibition catalogue

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