Theory Magazine Issue Three

ISSUE THREE / WINTER 2013 / $10 COVER EDITION 1/5 - KAYLA BEDEY

Art and Wine Which comes first?

Bozeman’s wine store with personality 315 E. Main

vinopertutti.com

586-8138



 









  



CONTEMPORARY ART GALLERY NOW OPEN

Theory Magazine has partnered with Cactus Records & Gifts to bring you a new space for local artists to display and sell their work. We will be displaying prints and originals for sale at affordable prices. The gallery will rotate solo shows every two months, while at the same time displaying prints from an array of different artists. Work is available to purchase on the spot.

CURRENTLY SHOWING: MANGUM ART mangumart.com

Cactus Records is located at 29 W. Main Street, Bozeman.

brian@theory-magazine.com

Artist inquiries for Theory Contemporary Art Gallery can be directed to:

THEORY MAGAZINE / TABLE OF CONTENTS VOLUME ONE / ISSUE THREE / WINTER 2013

6 7 8 42 54 56 58 58

CREDITS

CJ CARTER DOCUMENTARY FILMMAKER & PHOTOGRAPHER

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

ROBERT ROYHL

THE NUMBER SEVEN

JELANI MAHIRI

THE AESTHETICS OF REVOLUTION

UNTITLE POEMS

BY NATHAN REID

QR CODES ARE THE TRAMP STAMPS OF THE DESIGN WORLD

SEVEN CHURCHES

BY JADE LOWDER

BOZEMAN ART COMMUNITY RESOURCES

PAINTER WORDS BY: MICHELE CORRIEL

PHOTOGRAPHER SKIN OF BOZEMAN SERIES

RAPH PIERSON INDELIBLE ARTISTRY

KAYLA BEDEY PHOTOGRAPHER LOOKING UP NOW AND AGAIN

AARON MURPHY SCULPTOR

NATHAN IRA PERFORMANCE ARTIST

HATTI BOWEN PAINTER

10 16 22 28 32 38 44 48 theory-magazine.com 5

THEORY MAGAZINE / STAFF & CONTRIBUTORS Staff

Contributors

Editor In Chief Brian Thabault brian@theory-magazine.com

CJ Carter cj-carter.com ultericommunications@gmail.com

Executive Editor Ashley Moon moon@theory-magazine.com

Robert Royhl robertroyhl.com rroyhl@gmail.com

Advertising Director Tatum Johnson tatum@theory-magazine.com

Michele Corriel michelecorriel.com michele.corriel@gmail.com

Copy Editor Linda Locke linda@theory-magazine.com

Jelani Mahiri inversionarts.com inversionartsproject@gmail.com

THEORY MAGAZINE

Raph Pierson facebook.com/Indelible.Artistry mister.pierson@gmail.com

105 N. 10th Ave

Bozeman Montana 59715 802-318-1803

theory-magazine.com

Submissions Theory Magazine is currently accepting submissions of art, photography, cartoons, music, films and writing.

Visit theory-magazine.com/submissions or email submissions@theory-magazine.com

Advertising Theory Magazine has reasonably priced advertising opportunities for print and web.

Visit theory-magazine.com/advertising or email ads@theory-magazine.com for more information.

Printed By:

Kayla Bedey k.bedey@gmail.com Aaron Murphy aaronmurphyart.com aaron@aaronmurphyart.com Alexander Aston franklittles.org zulubuddha1@gmail.com Nathan Ira vimeo.com/nathanira nathan.ira.art@gmail.com Hattie Bowen jonathanraney.weebly.com jonathanraney@hotmail.com Nathan Reid Jade Lowder jadelowder.tumblr.com jadellowder@gmail.com

Executive Mailing Services 221 East Mendenhall Street Bozeman, Montana 59715 406.586.2600 data@execservmail.com

Special Thanks To: All of our friends and families. All of our excellent contributing artists & writers. Katie Wing and The Loft staff for hosting our parties.

Tim Christiansen at Vino Per Tutti for providing our parties with wine. The crew at Montucky Cold Snacks for fueling our parties with beer. Our awesome business partners, past and present.

Erotique, East Main Ink, Lenya at Mountain Mama’s Cleaning Services, Quipet, Intrigue Ink, Dub V Tees, and to whoever those wreckless drunks are behind Drunk With A Camera. Nancy Self and the rest of the crew at Executive Services for printing our magazine and putting 6

theory-magazine.com

up with our ridiculous deadline-pushing. Ron Gompertz and everyone at Wild Joes for allowing their shop to be the de-facto Theory Magazine HQ. Bueno at Cactus Records for supporting our new art gallery and slangin’ our magazine.

The Country Bookshelf for also carrying our magazine. Josh Perkins with Main Street Arts and Entertainment Complex for hosting a great fundraiser party and Brett Cline and the crew at The Zebra for hooking up the drinks. Alexander Aston for his great article and his efforts at Frank Little’s to foster grassroots community activism.

Dalton C. Brink and the whole Cottonwood

Club / Free Art School community for keeping underground art alive in Bozeman. Samuel Sveen and the Lamewavve crew for consistently throwing awesome events and keeping it fresh.

Shane Johnson & Michal Madeline (onomono), Jason Root, Cole Johnson and the Fox Den homies for rocking the decks at our events. In Walks Bud, Numbers, Hemingway & Nathan Reid for also playing at our last event. Josh Mangum for his services getting the new gallery set up (and filling it with art.) Linda Locke for being the BEST copy editor. Everybody who has been involved with past issues and helped us get to where we are today. THANKS!

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

H

ello reader and welcome back to the third issue of Theory Magazine. It has been about one year since this magazine was introduced online. I could never have guessed how far it would come in one year. With this issue, things fell into place a little easier. We have a similar style and layout, but of course, very different artists.

This time around the magazine features a few artists outside of the traditional two-dimensional visual work we have featured in the past. We are happy to have Aaron Murphy in the issue as our first sculptor, Nathan Ira as the first performance artist, and CJ Carter as our first filmmaker. With this expansion into new realms of art, we also look to expand beyond the world of traditional art in general.

The mission of Theory Magazine is to develop a stronger art community in Bozeman by providing a channel for individual expression. Our aim is to be able to provide this channel for all forms of communication, not just visual art. Theory is an art magazine, and will always be an art magazine, but as our society evolves, the line between art, community development, social activism and life in general becomes increasingly blurred. I want to be able to share the stories of other people making waves in Bozeman outside of the art community. This means, writers, teachers, community leaders, organizers, farmers, inventors, architects, scientists and anybody else who is revolutionizing the way we live our lives today, I want your stories.

As 2013 progresses, I am going to re-focus on theTheory Magazine website. The internet provides us with a unique opportunity to share information quickly and efficiently. Music, films, writing, photography and visual art can all be displayed together in a seamless way. My goal is to take the model of our print edition – many people coming together to make one cohesive product – and apply it to our website.

Up to this point, the website has been managed and updated entirely by myself. Given the immense task of organizing a print edition every three months on top of other jobs, it is hard to keep it updated. This is where you come in.

Using Wordpress as flexible content management platform, it is incredibly easy to share access to the site. My goal is allow the site to become a curated community sharing space, where there are many people developing and sharing content at once.

You can look at it as an opportunity to share your own work, the work of others you find interesting, or just a way to gain some experience in the web publishing field. I strongly believe that if we take the same model of mass participation and cooperation that is evident in the print editions of Theory, and apply it to the website, that the results will be incredible. At this point we have very little budget to put towards compensating contributors. However, if I were out to make boat-loads of money, I wouldn’t have started an arts magazine in Bozeman. It’s not about the money, it’s about the art!

That being said, if you are interested in becoming a contributor, submitting your own work, or just helping out in any way you can, please don’t hesitate to contact me. Our staff directory is located on the page to your left. Even an act as simple as writing one article, or sharing whatever your form of self expression is will be greatly appreciated.

To keep up with Theory Magazine in the time between issues, check out our website and give us a good ol’ Like on Facebook. I use our Facebook page as a way to share local art happenings throughout the year, as well as keeping folks up to date with the latest content on our site. You can also find us on Twitter and Instagram @theorymagazine.

Thank you all for your support, and I hope you enjoy our third issue.

Sincerely, Brian Thabault “Greed” & “Apathy” screenprints, 2012 Ashley D. Moon

Editor & Founder Theory Magazine

SUBMIT! Theory Magazine is currently accepting submissions of art, photography, cartoons, music, films, writing, and anything else creative and cool that you might do.

Visit theory-magazine.com/submissions or email submissions@theory-magazine.com

theory-magazine.com 7

THE NUMBER SEVEN

3-7-77 is a code that appear on the shoulder patches of the Montana Highway Patrol. The code has mysterious origins in Montana’s history of vigilante justice. 3-7-77 was first recorded

Seven is the natural

in Helena in the 1870s. It was scralled on walls and tents to

number following six and

warn undesirables that they best leave town. In an era before

preceding eight.

organized law enforcement, vigilante justice was the law of the land. The oldest interpretations believe the code meant that the

Seven is the fourth prime number. It is a Mersenne prime, a

criminal had 3 hours 7 minutes and 77 seconds to leave town.

Newman–Shanks–Williams prime, a Woodall prime, a factorial prime,

Another common interpretation

a lucky prime, a happy number (happy prime), a safe prime (the only

is that the numbers represent the

Mersenne safe prime) and the fourth Heegner number.

dimensions of a grave, 3 feet by 7 feet by 77 inches. Others have speculated that the numbers 3-7-77 are a Masonic code.

Seven is the sum of any two opposite sides on a standard six-sided dice.

Seven Kings of Rome

7-Eleven originated in 1927 in Dallas, Texas

Romulus

when an employee of Southland Ice Company,

Numa Pompilius

John Jefferson Green, started selling milk,

Tullus Hostilius

eggs and bread from an improvised

Ancus Marcius

storefront in one of the company’s ice

Lucius Tarquinius Priscus

houses. Thompson eventually bought

Servius Tullius A Seven-Sided Shape is a Heptagon.

Lucius Tarquinius

which opened in the Dallas area. By 1928, a manager of one of

Regular polygons with up to six sides can be constructed by compass and straightedge

There are Seven Notes in the

alone, but the regular heptagon cannot.

traditional Western diatonic scale (major or minor).

There are Seven Basic Swaras [saptaswaras] in Indian Carnatic music.

has an ascender in most modern typefaces, in typefaces with text figures the character usually

8

Seven & Seven

in Continental Europe and Latin America write

1 shot Seagram’s

7 with a line in the middle. The line through

Seven Crown whiskey

handwriting.

theory-magazine.com

stores was changed to 7-Eleven to reflect their hours of operation, 7 am to 11 pm, which was unprecedented at the time. 7-Eleven first experimented with a 24-hour schedule in Austin, Texas after a store was forced following a University of Texas football game.

The Shape of the 7 Character

appear similar when written in certain styles of

under the name “Tot’em Stores.” In 1946 the name of the

in Persian traditional music.

The Barbados Dollar is also heptagonal.

character from the number one, as they can

placed it in front of his store. The stores began operating

to remain open all night due to customer demand

Heptagonal Coins, the 50p and 20p pieces.

the middle is useful to clearly differentiate the

these locations brought back a totem pole from Alaska and

There are Seven Dastgahs

The United Kingdom currently has two

has a descender. Most people

the Southland Ice Company and turned it into Southland Corporation, which oversaw several locations

6 fluid ounces of 7 Up Mix and serve on ice.

Seven Wonder of the Ancient World

The Seven Virtues of Bushido, the code of the Samurai.

Great Pyramid of Giza Hanging Gardens of Babylon Temple of Artemis at Ephesus Statue of Zeus at Olympia Mausoleum at Halicarnassus Colossus of Rhodes Lighthouse of Alexandria

GI Integrity

REI Respect

YU Courage

MEIYO Honor

JIN Compassion

MAKOTO Honesty

CHU Loyalty

There are Seven Chakras in the basic model used in various eastern traditions and philosophies. Chakras, in some Hinduist traditions and other belief systems, are centers of Prana, life force, or vital energy. Chakras correspond to vital points in the physical body i.e. major plexuses of arteries, veins and nerves.

Sahasrara: The Crown Chakra

Roy G. Biv is a Seven part

Ajna: The Brow Chakra

acronym for the sequence of

Vishuddha: The Throat Chakra

hues in a rainbow according

Anahata: The Heart Chakra

to how the English language

Manipura: The Solar Plexus Chakra

divides the visible light

Swadhisthana: The Sacral Chakra

spectrum: Red, Orange, Yellow,

Muladhara: The Root Chakra

Green, Blue, Indigot, Violet.

The Seven Blunders of the World are Mahatma Gandhi’s list of the destructive things that cause violence: Wealth without work “Seven Seas” can refer either to a particular set of seven

Pleasure without conscience

seas or be used as an expression for all the world’s oceans

Knowledge without character

in general, as in the idiom “sail the Seven Seas.” The

Commerce without morality

International Hydrographic Organization lists over 100 bodies

Science without humanity

of water known as seas.

Religion without sacrifice Politics without principle.

Seven Deadly SIns Lust Gluttony Greed Sloth Wrath Envy Pride

Sabbath in the Bible (as the verb shavath) is first mentioned in the Genesis creation mythos, where the seventh day is set aside as a day of rest and made holy by God. There are Seven Heavens, and Seven Hell in Islamic religion.

Seven Blessings are recited under the chuppah during a Jewish wedding ceremony.

The Seven Gods of Fortune are gods of good luck in Japanese mythology and folklore. They are often the subject of netsuke carvings The Seventh-Inning Stretch is a tradition in baseball games that takes place

and other representations.

between the halves of the seventh inning. Fans generally stand up and stretch out their arms and legs and sometimes walk around. It is a popular time to get a late-game snack as well. Standing up and singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during the seventh-inning stretch is a popular tradition. The 1908 Tin Pan Alley standard was written by vaudeville star Jack Norworth, who had ironically never attended an actual baseball game prior to writing the song.

theory-magazine.com

9

CJ CARTER DOCUMENTARY FILMMAKER & PHOTOGRAPHER

B

ozeman based photographer and filmmaker CJ Carter’s work aims to understand and communicate the human experience through storytelling and image making. His work finds him traveling the globe, working with an a array of non-profit organizations. For his most recent project, CJ traveled to the Arctic with “Polar Bears Internartional.” Past projects have led CJ to places like Indonesia, the Altai Range in Mongolia, Nepal and Greenland. I caught up with CJ while he was in between trips at home in Bozeman.

What was the major turning point in your life when you realized the true power of photography and film?

After high school, I went to to Indonesia on a whim. I wasn’t inspired to go college right away. I didn’t respect the experience yet. Instead, I went to Indonesia and was exposed to some of the

rawness of developing regions as far as health and environmental well-being. There were a lot of people living with sicknesses, and a lot of intense environmental degradation at the hands of rapid economic development projects and deforestation. The last night I was in Indonesia, I saw a film called The Water Bearer, about a Quebecer facilitating water infrastructure development between Catholic and Musilim communities in Flores, Indonesia. The film was at the Canadian Embassy. Afterwards, I met some Indonesians who invited me back to their work space while I waited for my early morning flight. It was an Islamic Environmental NGO (Non-Govermental Organization) and they were focusing on bird flu pandemic, some of them were doing new media. We ended up talking about discrepancies in understanding between societies perpetuated through images. We talked about the upcoming primaries for the U.S.

The image is so universal, every culture has a way of representing different aspects of their life.

10

theory-magazine.com

presidential election and images of America they were familiar with through mainstream media.

They were watching our election and were more informed than I was about the candidates.

It was an awakening of how little we know of other regions before we pass judgement. When I left for Indonesia, I had people asking me why I would travel to a country with so many radical Islamists. Clearly the media flow was flowing stronger in one direction than the other.

From then on I realized the power media has in shaping our understandings in the world community.

Let’s talk more about the power of images. Can you explain how your understanding and use of photography and the power of images has changed over time?

For me, it came in stages. I realized, “I have a power of representation. I could represent anything or anybody in any way that I want.”

As time has gone on, it has become, “How do I share the camera?” Especially when I approach a project, the question becomes “Who’s story is it?” and “Who’s supposed to be telling it?”

Chamonix Mont-Blanc, France

The image is so universal, every culture has a way of representing different aspects of their life.

Many times the answer is that it is not my story to tell. Culture is everything. The term “culture” gets commercialized to some degree, but culture is life. It’s something that might smell bad sometimes. It’s all the issues of life. It’s not just the sexy photos that you see in National Geographic. A lot of that is understanding that culture is here and now. It is everything that we are living. It’s here in Bozeman; it’s performed behavior; it’s art; it’s how we are organizing ourselves into a social mass. I think the camera has a way of documenting these things, but it is important to deconstruct how these images are made. So, for instance, when I walk into a nomadic communities, I ask, “How do I make this something that the people can feel dignified saying they were a part of?”

How do you balance using your artistic abilities and your story-telling abilities to make an impact and create social change, while at the same time making a living at it?

It is really rare to find something where you can feel like you’re contributing to these social causes and still putting something in the pocketbook to pay for groceries. It’s really interesting ethical ground. I’m really thankful to have the opportunities within the non-profit world. With the kind of work I do, I’m not selling Hostess Cupcakes, it’s more of a consciousness I am trying to sell. Selling the ideologies that these organizations represent, with Polar Bears International, it’s realizing and acting on climage change. Today our generation is more connected to the rest of the world. We have connections through traveling and the internet. These new relationships bring new responsibilities. Working with non-profits, for me, is a way to continually connect with people and regions in a meaningful way.

How did you get associated with Polar Bears International?

Bear Biologist Tom Smith Ph.D, Manitoba, Canada

The climate card is something people have been over-saturated with, without being offered pragmatic solutions for everyday action, or for that matter, hope. action, or for that matter, hope. The topic went silent with the last election. It’s interesting working in the Arctic. Not only is there native folks, there are also scientists who have spent a lifetime working and living there. There’s something special about the stories that have

come out of that. We can all look at polar bears floating on icebergs until our eyes bleed, and we still won’t care. Part of the storytelling involved in this kind of social cause is about making people care, the best way to do that is with strong human stories.

I’ve been involved with the non-profit scene in Bozeman since I was really young. I think I started volunteering at the food bank with my mom when I was 5. More recently I’ve been working with the Montana Mountaineering Association, the Alex Lowe Charitable Foundation, Iqra Fund and the Atlas Cultural Foundation on media projects. Polar Bears International came out of the woodwork through some common friends. It’s a pretty tight community. Polar Bears International has a really unique media mission. They were founded by an arctic photographer so image-making and public outreach has been at the heart of it all since the beginning. Now they do live broadcasts with scientists from the Arctic to schools, etc. They are getting into the film scene. My role was to produce a few films, man the remote cameras and to help make sure the live broadcasts ran smoothly.

How do you view the role of image-making working in favor of the fight against climate change?

It’s a tough one. The climate card is something people have been over-saturated with, without being offered pragmatic solutions for everyday Up close and personal with ursus maritimus, Manitoba, Canada

theory-magazine.com 11

A Kazakh woman awaits a flight to the capital city of Ulan Bator, Bayan Olgii Airport, Mongolia

theory-magazine.com 13

Bayan Olgii Province, Mongolia

What past experiences of yours have prepared you for work in the Arctic with Polar Bears International?

This last trip to the Hudson Bay with Polar Bears International, filming with scientists and polar bears was definitely a challenge on all fronts and a lot of past experiences pulled through to make it happen.

The time put in writing research papers in school and ethnographic fieldwork over the past few years really came into play to first understand what is happening in these scientist’s work, then figuring a way to work with them to deliver a story. I think the scientific community, like other social groups, has their own language, cultural mores and ethics about how they want to be represented. It takes a bit of observing and participating to figure it out.

Physically it was frigid, regularly -20o to -40o Celsius, many times with wind. Being used to the cold from Alpine climbing and ski touring or even freezing in snow forts as a kid in Montana helped me to stay honest about how much exposure was okay and when to turn it in. The psychology of living in an inside-out zoo with large carnivores and constantly being on the move for a few weeks is really taxing. I definitely tapped into the painful Zen learned crossing the Gobi Desert in a minibus for a week enroute to skiing in the Mongolian Altai. If I hadn’t had this collective 14

theory-magazine.com

I think scientific research owes it to everyday people to make what they are finding approachable to learn about. of experiences, I think it could have been a different story.

What is the role that photographers, filmmakers, storytellers (writers, designers, etc.) play in the world of science and research?

I think scientific research owes it to everyday people to make what they are finding approachable to learn about. Not to dumb-itdown, but to make it communicated in a way that can benefit people. I think at their very best craft, science and art are mirrors of each other.

People involved in communicating science and research have a really unique body of content and what I perceive to be a tacit responsibility in their work.

Can you explain your understanding of how media and storytelling can cross physical, cultural, and linguistic borders? Especially in the instances of working with the nomadic tribes of Mongolia and the sheep herders of rural Montana?

I think now, more than ever, visual stories have the ability to transcend borders. It’s pretty clear, at least geographically, how Montana and

Mongolia add up. I mean, we have high steppes, big river basins, mountain ranges, and share a pastoral history. Montana was built on copper, wool, and wheat. There’s a common element there - it’s the wool - at least in this region. In South Central Montana, we produced the most amount of wool in the world for a couple years in our early history. That industry was very closely tied to a dry mountain climate, new immigrants, and the people’s ability to work with animals. I didn’t really understand how that worked until I had travelled to Western Mongolia. I came back and went to the family I had been working with over in Sweetgrass County, right near Big Timber. I had never thought about “Montana development” the same way you would think of “African development.” In Montana 150 years ago, kids weren’t going to high school.

And right now, with the Kazakhs we’ve been working with in Western Mongolia, kids aren’t going to high school either. There are no paved roads; there’s no 3G; they don’t have internet. They’re currently building and surveying their equivalent of interstate I-90. Also, international mining operations are setting up shop, much like the copper boom in early Montana.It made me see development in a different way. There are some stark contrasts as

far as religious affiliations with the Kazakhs Sunni-Muslim religion, and us, with our Christian thing. But as far as physical landscape and development goes, Western Mongolia and Montana have a lot in common.

Do you feel like the two cultures could learn from each other?

Yes, it’s a two-way street. It comes down to some pretty core identity questions, because there is a shared landscape identity. A lot of this has to do with how we want our regions to look 25 years from now. I think that’s what has developed my interest in planning; how it deals with communication and action on a community level. It begs the questions of adaptation and evolution, “Where did we come from?” “Who are we?” and “Where are we going?”

What is your over-arching goal as an artist and documentarian?

My goal as a documentarian is to bring people to a place where they are both challenged and engaged by images and the contents within.

I think content matters and in learning about things through images, hopefully, we can approach the future more informed and more inspired. The world can be a really dark place and I hope that through my work to get people psyched about what can change to make terra mater a livable place for future generations.

What do you have planned next? What’s on the cooker?

This spring is kind of a mixture of things. I’m focusing pretty heavily on skiing and filmmaking.

I’ll be basing out of Chamonix, France for a month making a film on the severity, but also the aesthetic of skiing, and life in the mountains there. People have been climbing these mountains since the mid-1800’s, which creates a unique human presence. That’s something I’ve always been keen to do, technical skiing and making art in the alpine. Then, I’ll likely head back to Central Asia in the spring to follow up with same three nomadic families. I am going to do a mixture between photo/voice and GIS, which is mapping, and community-based photo representation. Grad school is also in the works.

That’s what’s on the cooker for now. Insh’Allah, things will go well.

Sweetgrass County, Montana (top) Hovd, Mongolia (middle) Bayan Olgii Province, Mongolia (right) Manitoba, Canada (below)

15

ROBERT ROYHL WORDS BY MICHELE CORRIEL

W

ith a geological sense of time and a physicist’s conception of space, painter Robert Royhl’s work reveals the landscape. Some of those landscapes depict the observable, but some also portray lingering features of impacted elements or the tell-tale markings of supposed histories.

Stand in front of a Royhl work and fall into a world where past and future meet. Feel your way around his paintings, holding onto nothing and everything. Each visit with his work is a journey tracked by an inner true north. His tapered, honed visions are compressed and folded, sensed and unforeseen, peeled-off accounts told in a jangling resonance that push your mind through the encyclopedic documentation of one place, but of all time.

“My landscapes are inhabited by the visible and the tangible, but are haunted by things both invisible and no longer visible,” Royhl says. “In my recent work, I am expressing the presences and the absences in this world. My paintings work along the outer edges of the visible

My paintings work along the outer edges of the visible spectrum toward the unseen. spectrum toward the unseen. As time passes, forms ripen, bloom and pass away. This world is a symphony of flowering pulses and holes. Matter and energy come together and separate. No form is static. All is in flux.”

Hanging off the wall, on the floor, leaning against the shelves, the cabinets, half-hidden behind partially finished pieces, Rohyl’s paintings whisper, sometimes shout to one another. This is a place of steady work.

Royhl sits cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by dozens of glass jars filled with pigment. His process involves several steps: an underwash, rabbit-skin glue, inks, egg tempera and chalk pastels. In front of him is his painting, on a board propped up on the top of a plastic pail.

“It’s the layering of different mediums that allow me to get the echoes I’m looking for,” Rohyl says, opening a plastic container of egg yolk. His palette is a thrift store plate placed upside down in the midst of his pigment-filled jars. Opening a jar of pulverized red, he shows me the color.

“I have ten different reds. Each pigment has a unique quality, and they do different things when mixed together.”

Usually blue mixed with red yields violet. Not so in egg tempera, one of the oldest, most versatile, and most durable methods of painting, dating back to prehistoric times.

Royhl takes a dab of vermillion powder with his wet brush, then swirls it on the back of the plate.

He opens another jar of white and adds a dash to lighten up the coral color.

“Once I have a color I want, I put it everywhere in the painting I think it needs to go,” he says.

“It’s a way of unifying the painting.”

He leans over the painting, close to his work, and ever so carefully draws a thin, thin line around a very small area. “I want the aura, the echo outside the image, the way geology creates layers. It’s a fulfilling, a reply to what’s underneath. Like seed forms maturing.”

“Along The Indian Trail Ridge,” ink, gesso, pastel, pigments with glue and egg tempera on paper, 22” x 30”, 2012

16

theory-magazine.com

“Self Portrait,” ink, gesso, pastel, pigments with glue and egg tempera on paper, 15” x 21”, 2012

theory-magazine.com 17

18

19

“World Without End”, egg tempera on paper, 22” x 30”, 2001

He opens another jar, adds some yellow to round out the red.

“Now, I’ll go over the top and feed it in there.

The first color is still there but now it’s a little warmer,” he says. His work is meticulous. Each small stroke deliberate. He rotates the painting a quarter turn and examines the colors to see where he might place a bit of this hue. “The changing of colors interests me. I’ll try this on top and you can see the subtle after-images.”

Taking a small piece of bubble-gum pink pastel, he scratches a bit on top of the red he’s applied.

Then with the tip of his finger he rubs the pastel into the egg and pigment paint.

“I recently started pushing pastel on top of the tempera, which created a looser painting style.

It activates the pastel in a way pure pastel can’t.

It makes the underpainting rich and mysterious, with very ethereal effects.”

Before Royhl gets to the painting part, before he opens a jar of pigment or breaks a fresh egg, he begins by drawing. He’ll go out to a place, a landscape with history, like the place that inspired the piece, “Along Indian Trail Ridge.”

“Central Park”, ink, gesso, pastel, pigments with glue and egg tempera on paper, 22” x 30”, 2010

The landscape is filled with life – that’s the narrative – through time things evolve, and then fade away, transforming and changing.

“Along the Kamogawa”, oil paint and egg tempera on canvas, 4’ x 6’, 2008

During a residency with the U-Cross Foundation, Royhl had the opportunity to sketch the area of the Fetterman Massacre, one of the bloodiest fights between the Lakota Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians and the U.S. Army, in 1866.

All 81 soldiers were killed and the battle led to the withdrawal of the U.S. from the Powder River country.

He sat there and sketched for a few hours, then took that sketch back to the studio. He blew up the drawing and reworked the lines onto the canvas that later became “Along Indian Trail Ridge.”

“Lately, my big interest is with the first encounter between the Old World and the New World,” he says and wonders, “What was it like? What was the reality? What were they encountering back then? The landscape is the stage where these things took place.”

His paintings reveal the leftover theater: the popcorn kernels, crushed cups, the blood-soaked silt and composted flesh.

As with another piece, “Dark Sanctuary,” a result of sitting for hours in the Tucson desert, Rohyl doesn’t only sketch what was is in front of him.

It’s not a still life drawing. It’s probably the opposite of a still life. More of a past life drawing with bits of here and now.

“I imagined the life of the place, who would pass through this place, animals, people, illegals, plant life, dust,” he says. “The landscape is filled with life – that’s the narrative – through time things evolve, and then fade away, transforming and changing. It’s kind of my idea of the Odyssey, which was a journey where all manner of beings were encountered from the Cyclops to Circe the Enchantress.”

He also wanted to include people at various stages of their life.

“Some of people are barely there, translucent, more spirit than body,” he says. “As I worked on the painting, a host of creatures appeared.

20

theory-magazine.com

“Dark Rocks,” mineral pigments with glue and egg tempera on paper, 22” x 30”, 2007

“Dark Sanctuary,” ink, gesso, pastel, pigments with glue and egg tempera on paper, 22” x 30”, 2012

There are birds, demonic animals, miniature figures in various states of transfiguration and other messengers. All of these beings are passing through this place between life and death, in a state of suspension between two planes of being.”

Looking at “Dark Sanctuary,” your eye moves with the colors, the darker hues pull you in further until you are connecting with each image, each figure. The shadows speak continuously with each other. There is an evolution of thought, a reaching of conclusions that only bring up more questions. And it is precisely this unending dialogue that Royhl’s work brings into play. There is nowhere for the mind to rest. Any stops are merely pauses.

Perhaps it is due to the many layers he uses, perhaps it is his method of using one painting as a jumping off point for the next one, but there is a feeling of continuity in his work. Like walking among the rocky outcrops off-trail, standing in the open with only the sky exposed before you, and yet you are not alone. Others have walked here, died here, fallen and regained their strength, loved and wished here. These are the places Royhl visits – again and­again – sensing not only what is there, but the infinite space fulfilled with time, with all of time.

theory-magazine.com

21

JELANI MAHRI SKIN OF BOZEMAN

T

his series, titled “Skin of Place,” explores the effects of time, color and texture on our perceptions and feelings for urban landscapes. The project was inspired through travels in São Luís, Maranhão, Brazil in 2000.

It developed partly in response to the plans to “clean up” colonial facades in the central region of the city by restoring the buildings’ faded colors with fresh coats of wood, concrete and paint. In my mind, it was exactly the old facades that emphasized the skin of that place with all its scars, blemishes, beauties and stories which only time could tell. The seed that was planted in São Luís began to flower and bear fruit while I lived in Hungary for five months in 2003. I spent the summer in a small town 30 km north of Budapest. There, a similar feel for a “skin of place” developed as I walked around town brushing up against the doorways, walls and facades of buildings. My doctoral work got in the way, so to speak, of further developing this project, which I have been able to take up again

in the last few years. The first step was a return to Hungary in 2010, producing a second series of photographs with a fresh perspective. Traveling to Lyon, France in June 2011 inspired another series. Photographing in Europe helped to refresh my vision enough to see and photograph in my current residence, producing the “Skin of Bozeman” during July and August 2011.

The next phases of this project will most likely continue in São Luís, Maranhão and San Francisco, CA. Further off on the horizon are other cities in Latin America, Africa and Asia.

The final goal is a book edition that will bring the various places together in a single volume and offer the chance to see the depths of place even when beauty may appear to be only skin deep.

Technical note: the images are taken with color slide film. They are chemically processed, digitally scanned and then printed using an archival inkjet printer and archival papers or canvas (or in this case, a magazine.)

23

24

theory-magazine.com

theory-magazine.com 25

26

27

RAPH PIERSON INDELIBLE ARTISTRY

H

How old were you when you did your first tag?

First memory of a tag. I was really into it in middle school. That was when I really started recognizing graffiti. That whole aspect of all this art covering walls and stuff. I got into looking at it, the visual aspect of it. I don’t know that, if in sixth grade, I would have been willing to go bomb walls or do that sort of thing. I started messing around with it on paper in middle school. I’ve been drawing and painting for as long as I can really remember. Middle school was the first time I picked up the pen.

What were your earliest artistic influences?

Originally, my mom and my dad. My dad is a goldsmith, and my mom has a degree in the arts. She told me, “Don’t ever go to school for the arts, because there is not much of a career in it.” Those were my earliest influences. They are both really incredible. As I started getting into it more, my influences were a lot of the people that do really eclectic styles and wild colors. Now as I get more into graffiti, there is an infinite amount of influence, everything that you see from every different person doing graffiti.

It’s just like synapses firing off in the brain.

You see it all, and take it all in, then you see something that you want to tweak or something new that you want to try yourself. The influence is endless. I also get a lot of influence from my friends and the people that I work closely with.

My art also coincides closely with my music, so seeing Dismals work, or seeing the work of Next, or seeing the work of Black Mask and the people that we work with. It all funnels down into a creative influence that spans a lot more than just paint or drawing. It really spans everything.

It bridges the gap between music, painting, and just living life.

There are a lot of parallels between Hip Hop and being an MC and the spontaneity of painting and doing graffiti. Do you see influence carrying over between the two?

Music and art are just different sides of me.

It’s about trying to convey positivity. I put my spirituality into my work, so when people hear a song of mine, or see a piece of work that I did, they can get the emotion, even if it’s in some minute sense of what I felt when I created it. I guess it’s just putting yourself, as much as you can, into whatever you are doing.

What is your favorite visual medium to work in?

Right now, it’s been spray paint. It’s been the bread and butter lately. With spray paint, you can take a can or two and cover a huge canvas.

Something that would normally take me a couple of hours to paint using acrylic paint or a marker, you can take that, blow it up 100 times. It’s incredible. It’s more gratifying for me to see something bigger. If I spend three hours doing a little tiny painting, or I spend three hours doing a large panel, I get more gratification out of making something bigger. Bigger is better in my eyes, but not always.

28

“Rhino” spray paint on board, 2012

Have you ever been apprehended by the law for making art?

Nah, no, never apprehended. As I’ve heard it said, people just have a “spidey sense.” It’s just about being smart, not being careless. It’s like that with anything. If people are careless, you will end up slipping at some point. Be that graffiti, or not looking both ways when you cross the street. If you are careless with it, eventually you will end up being caught up in something.

I just abide by the code of the ninja.

You are trying to work with the city to encourage public arts projects. What is your take on the current state of public art in Bozeman and what are your goals?

I’ve always seen Bozeman as being an artistically driven community, which is kind of weird, because it is a conundrum in itself. Bozeman is liberal, but also really conservative. There are a lot of individuals who are trying to get art more involved in the daily life of Bozeman. There are also a lot of people who are really set in their

I want to be able to bridge the gap between what these conservative people think that graffiti is, and what it can be. ways, whatever those may be. Where we are at in our current state of life, with graffiti on walls, you can’t turn your head the other way and not see it. It’s still there. The way I see it, is people don’t care, or they pretend like they don’t care, because they won’t look at it. If they pretend that it’s not there, then it just goes away, but we can’t

ignore the fact that all these walls are covered with stuff. Some of it is garbage. People try to go and express themselves and paint and vandalize, whatever it may be. It can be a grey area. The way I see it, if people are going to go and destroy this wall with a bunch of “Jimmy loves Suzie” or other vandalism and it can stay up for six

“Share The Arts” spray paint on wood panels, 2012

months, then why can’t people who want to be artistic with it and actually create something positive and visually stimulating, why can’t those people be able to do it? Instead it’s been kind of shunned and become this vandalism crime. I want to be able to bridge the gap between what these conservative people think that graffiti

theory-magazine.com 29

“If These Walls Could Talk” spray paint on board, 2012

is, and what it can be, like the art on the side of Heebs. That’s really cool stuff. I think it’s positive stuff that is good for the community to see. Doing a mural project will eliminate graffiti in a sense. You don’t see a wall with a nice mural all tagged up.

In a sense , everything we’re doing is a mark that can’t be erased. In some way, shape or form, it can’t be removed.

If you could paint any wall in Bozeman, which would you choose?

use.” It’s funny to see. But those are the walls that need to be broken down.

I would probably say one that I would never go paint, so I wouldn’t be on record saying it.

But a perfect dream spot? I’d say one spot that has really caught my eye since that explosion happened downtown, is that area between the new buildings where there is just that huge gaping void on Main Street. I think that would be incredible to work in conjunction with other artists and collaborate on a massive mural.

Especially on a wall of that proportion. It would be unreal.

What are the origins of the name “Indelible Artistry?”

Tell us about your collective “Indelible Artistry and what your goals are by distributing high quality spray paints to Bozeman.

I’m not trying to supply the vandal scene. What I want to do is bridge the gap between what people think the art form is on the outside looking in, and what I actually see that art form being capable of being. I want to supply people who want to make art and be creative. Spray paint in itself can be used by anybody and that’s what is so cool about it. It’s not just writers and the graffiti scene. It’s anybody who wants to use it or pick it up. There is a big stigma behind spray paint, because “That’s what the taggers 30

theory-magazine.com

Indelible struck a tone with me because by definition it means “A mark that cannot be erased.” Basically, a permanent mark. It has always resonated with me and my art, because in a sense everything we’re doing is a mark that can’t be erased. In some way, shape or form, it can’t be removed. Every time that you do your own thing, you put it down on paper, a board, musically, whatever, you are creating your own little footprints. That best describes what I want to do with it. I want to be able to make moves and make works that will be felt positively. The Indelibles is going to be the business of paint supply, and apparel as well. It’s going to be working with people to educate people on the artform, it doesn’t just have to be an illegal venture for people to gain a reputation or street cred.

The goal is to see what the possibilities can be if people are willing to look beyond the stigma.

Any calls to action for the art scene in Bozeman?

I would charge people to start getting more involved with each other. Whatever the medium may be, the more people that can come together

“Can Sihlouette” spray paint on wood, 2012

and recognize it as an artistic community, Then it is going to get a lot better. That stuff will build a solid foundation for the arts in Bozeman, and will get people on the same level. That sort of thing is good for the arts in Bozeman. It’s good for art in general.

“HULK” paint on board, 2012

theory-magazine.com 31

KAYLA BEDEY LOOKING UP NOW AND THEN What happened to the simple days.

The simple age.

Laying beneath the trees, Staring at the intricate patterns composed by branches and leaves.

Dreaming of a “grown-up” you.

Of what life has in store, Without really worrying about a thing.

Now it’s today.

Today’s the day.

Think back to the simple days.

Where those tree patterns befuddled your brain.

You’re dreaming of the “young” you, While fretting about the now.

Right now.

The right now you.

But not quite accepting the now.

Trying to drown out the stress of now by remembering then.

By wishing now was then.

But we all know that can never be.

Then can never be now.

Now can never be then.

32

theory-magazine.com

theory-magazine.com 33

34

theory-magazine.com

theory-magazine.com 35

36

theory-magazine.com

theory-magazine.com 37

AARON MURPHY

“Cubic Knot,” steel, 4’ x 3’6” x 2’6”, 2011

SCULPTOR

A

recent graduate of MSU School of Art, Aaron Murphy is taking his skills in technical drafting and applying them to three dimensional art. Aaron grew up in San Antonio, Texas where he was introduced to woodworking by his father, who built all the family’s furniture. He also dabbled in welding and woodworking through classes in high school. After graduation, Aaron found work right out of school as a computer draftsman at an engineering firm that designed security systems for prisons. After working for around seven years as a draftsman, Aaron moved to Bozeman and returned to school where he turned his attention to sculpture. Upon completing University, Aaron became involved with Others: Bozeman Contemporary Art Coalition, a group of recently graduated artists who share a collective space and organize critiques and exhibitions. I caught up with him at his house to talk about his work and life after school.

Sculpture is kind of a loose term for 3D art. How would you define your current work?

I have two main bodies of work that I consider separate from each other. Obviously, they’re

38

theory-magazine.com

intrinsically tied to each other but the motivation and purpose behind them is drastically different.

Machine is part of my interactive body of work.

That would be the most broad term that I would give it: interactive work. One of the main motivations behind it is to get people to have a more intimate connection with art in general.

The best way to do that is to get people to touch something. It seems like the most obvious way to break a barrier, and by doing that, you make it a more intimate experience, rather than just looking at something.

The other body of my work is more personal, less about the viewer. The interactive work is more about society and social issues. I use the interactive art to answer my questions about those social issues. Whereas, the other work, the more static stuff, that’s all more about myself, my time to just answer questions about myself, not necessarily about art, but myself in general.

It’s about problems I’ve had in my life and it’s a way to deal with things.

What kind of thoughts go into the pre-planning stages of your work? Do you draw them out, or is it more of an organic process?

There’s a lot of planning (laughs). I do a lot of planning. It was always kind of a thing during sculpture classes. A lot of people had issues that I would plan so much. I would spend a lot of time in class just thinking, planning, testing little things, not actually even starting until several weeks into the project. They said, “You need to be more loose.” It was always an interesting thing to hear people get so upset on how I never let myself go.

Is that your inner draftsman coming out?

I think so. You know, it really is. I spent the better part of a decade as a draftsman making plans. It makes sense. It’s also the way I’m wired. That’s just the way my brain works. More than anything, is that it’s just the kind of work that I do. It just requires it. I couldn’t just wing that. With a lot of my interactive work, things actually have to move. You just have to plan.

I draw all of my sculptures in CAD, threedimensionally. I actually make a set of plans for myself that I print out and build the piece based off the plans.

So, your history as a draftsman really comes into play in your work?

Yeah, I think it does, as much as I hated being a draftsman when I quit. It’s less because I was a draftsman; its more because of who I am. I originally became a draftsman because of who I am.

What’s the most challenging part about creating three-dimensional art?

Curves. I have a very 3D mind. I can imagine an object and build it in my head. I can see it, and rotate it. As soon as I start introducing curves, or concave and convex shapes – holy shit – that’s when it gets really hard. That’s why most of my work is very straight lines, because I have a hard time with that. At some point I will investigate it. With my two separate bodies of work, that would definitely be something that would fall

My work would be something that would speak to that, something that would speak to reducing government, speaking to what the government’s role should be in its citizens’ lives.

I watched the video produced for “Machine” and you talked about the curve of culture and how we are losing touch with the things we make.

Can you talk about the relationship between the modern man and modern machine? How do you address that in your work?

I was talking about a lot of the motivation behind “Machine.” A lot of the motivation behind the physical part, like the tangible part of the machine, the way it’s constructed, the aesthetics, the way I built it, are motivated by that idea. I feel like we are just getting lost.

We have altered the way that we make our objects.

Everything has become much more detached from us. into the personal kind of work, exploring the idea of curves. Why is it that I can imagine straight angles or lines pretty easily, but not curves? At some point I’ll have a body of work that explore that.

If you could design a piece of art for any major company, organization or even a country and make whatever you wanted, what entity would you choose to make this object for?

If it could be anything, I would probably say the United States, for the federal government, to be in one of the chambers, House of Representatives or the Senate, somewhere having to do with the day-to-day running of our government. They probably wouldn’t like it all.

I feel pretty strongly about my political beliefs, and I have a strong belief in the United States.

I really love the idea of it, and it’s completely off-course right now. Pretty much everyone thinks that, at this point, there are some very simple things that should be done that would drastically change the way our government is run.

This work is about what has happened to us since the Industrial Revolution. Before that, our surroundings were built by us. Everything was either created by us or by nature. Now, it’s getting more-and-more less industrial. We have altered the way that we make our objects.

Everything has become much more detached from us, like our phones. These things are with us all the time. We touch them, use them, listen to them and talk to them all the time. No part of our phones is from anywhere remotely close to us. We’ve never been to the places that most of the stuff comes from, and probably never even heard of most of the places where these things are made. Even the design of these are coming from somewhere detached from us. Everything is getting that way. I think there’s danger in that. I can see it in pottery. People around here love handmade pottery, because it’s something that came from here. The motivations behind a bowl are a perfect example. A “typical” bowl is not handmade. It’s mass-produced, designed by someone who’s never lived in Montana. A local

“Moment III,” steel, 18” x 12” x 10”, 2011

“Pyramidas III,” steel, 3’6” x 1’ x 5” 2010

“I’m Sorry,” 18 gauge sheet metal, 1’8” x 1’4” x 2’, 2012

theory-magazine.com 39

I don’t want to feel limited in what I can do based on what kind of an artist I consider myself. for instance, specifically, a ceramic artist. They want to be a ceramic artist, so any idea they have, if it can’t be made in ceramics, they toss it to the ants. If that’s the case, then the focus is completely in the wrong place. The focus within your art can be an odd place. A lot of my work is made out of steel. That’s what I’ve enjoyed doing recently. Most of my ideas have been best suited for steel construction. You couldn’t make them out of wood. I see myself changing a lot in the future, doing all kinds of different stuff: rock sculptures and of course wood as well.

What are your plans for the next year or so?

“Machine” (see opposite page.)

handmade ceramic bowl, everything about that bowl is centered around here, around where I have chosen to live, where I interact. I think that is really important in more than just our bowls.

The chairs and tables we sit at, the houses that we live in. I think it’s important to keep those ties closer, not just for comfort, but for the objects themselves. How it will make the objects be better, how they will serve their purpose better if they have a closer tie to the surroundings they reside in. It’s just so difficult to build something somewhere for a different place that you’ve never been to and know nothing about.

For me, it’s about learning, learning processes and learning how to do things. It’s not an immediate thing. It’s not, “Just drop everything, and build it yourself.” It’s a general trend that needs to happen in all societies. If we try to stop or slow our current trend, our surroundings will slowly become less detached and become more intimate.

You said that you used to paint and draw a lot.

Do you still find yourself doing that?

I draw a lot, sketch, that kind of stuff. I don’t make drawings though. I’m not very good at making big drawings. I’m so detail-oriented, it would take forever. I would freak out over every hair I draw. I consider my work sculpture, but pretty much any work I do in the future will be considered sculpture. I’ve done a lot of thinking: What is sculpture? What is not? I really feel like everything is sculpture, and everything can be considered sculpture. Painting can be considered sculpture. Anytime you do a drawing, you’re adding dimension to it. I’m very open to all kinds of art. I don’t want to feel limited in what I can do based on what kind of an artist I consider myself. That’s something that is just really hard for me to understand. People that want to be,

40

theory-magazine.com

I just graduated in May. I’m not real sure. I’m working right now for Brandner Design. We build all kinds of stuff -- anything made out of wood or metal, furniture, architectural elements, hardware, like drawer pulls, light fixtures, really all over the board. It’s really good experience.

I’m learning a ton about how to build things. It was hard when I first started. During art school, I was a studio tech for two and a half years, and constantly being asked how to do things. I was teaching the technical things in class. Then I went to this job, and I went all the way to the bottom. I just went from knowing everything to knowing nothing. I was asking questions all the time and fucking up. It’s been really hard, but really good, because these new techniques are going to help me with my art dramatically.

Anything that can facilitate my ideas, I’m all about it. There’s a lot of other things I want to do. Grad school is an eventuality for me. I would want to go to grad school at some point, but just not right now. I’ve got a lot ideas and projects I’d like to do. Then maybe in the future when I’m feeling kind of dry with my art, feeling discouraged, maybe that will be a better time for me to go to grad school, but who knows? I love Bozeman, and it will be exceptionally difficult to leave here. I find it an incredibly inspirational place to live.

How has being involved with Others helped your art? Has that environment helped you with your art, or maybe, what have you enjoyed about it outside of the school realm?

I think it’s critical for any artist to have a community. The number one thing recently graduated artists say is that it’s really hard to make work after you get out, because you have nothing to make it for, and then you get no feedback. When you’re in school, it’s just so easy. You get deadlines and when you finish, you get people to talk about your art. That’s just raw fuel. You finish a critique, and you say, “Yes! Let’s go! I want to make the next one!” It gives you a destination with your work, and that’s the number one positive thing to get from Others.

It’s just having other people to talk with about your work, and to talk to them about their work as well, also to give deadlines and critiques.

Every two weeks, somebody else is supposed to have something that they’ve been working on that everyone critiques. Outside the academic setting, that just doesn’t happen. You get no real feedback. At an art show, no one ever comes up to you and really talks about your work. Its usually just like, “That’s nice.” And you think, “Well that was worthless. Thanks!” It’s hard to put so much of yourself into something and let it sit in the corner.

I was talking to somebody, and they told me that they kind of had a problem with what Others was doing. They didn’t like what we were doing, because they felt like we were encouraging people to kind of be stagnant. Like as if to be associated with Others was some sort of end goal. That is not what we are about at all. It’s not supposed to be anything like that. It is supposed to be a transitional thing. Somewhere a person can go right after graduation to help in the period of time between when they finish school and when they move on to the next thing.

“Decisions,” 20 gauge steel, 5’ x 4’ x 3’ , 2011

“Machine,” 18 gauge sheet metal, clear acrylic tubing, 10w40 motor oil, copper, 5’7” x 7’7” x 4’6”, 2011 p: Tom Murphy

theory-magazine.com

41

AESTHETICS OF REVOLUTION

BY ALEXANDER ASTON

N

obody gives a shit about your art. The average amount of time spent looking at a piece in a gallery or museum is around four to seven seconds. The traditional formats just don’t fucking cut it anymore. At best, they blend in with the millions of advertisements blared at us incessantly. At worst, they’re just boring. Face it. You’re competing with YouTube and The Lorax in 3D for the attention of generations increasingly tweaked out on Adderal and smart phones. As for your big opening, for most, it’s just an excuse to go out and socialize, except for a few that will feign interest in your work in the hopes that they can interject and waffle on about theirs. These are the ones that dream of hitting it big in the art world; those ambitious individuals that look forward to the day they can have an unpaid intern take a piss on a canvas and sell it to a Russian oil tycoon for a few million. Oh, and the economy is collapsing.

Art has always existed to awe and astound, to inspire and make us reflect on the sheer creative genius of the human being, to connect us through our symbolism to the fullness of our present. Whether the caves of Lascaux,

42

theory-magazine.com

Over the past few decades, concepts about the role and nature of art itself have begun to shift radically. Art has begun to use the social sphere as a point of departure. It has begun to extend authorship through participatory processes. the freezes of the Parthenon, or the Sistine Chapel, art is meant to be spectacular. That is why the old forms are failing. They can no longer captivate and communicate with the same intensity, for we are all presently caught up in the most vast and omnipresent spectacle ever created by human culture. We are forced to negotiate a nearly unending procession. Imagery and sound bytes invade every aspect of our daily lives: Coca Cola commercials, Egyptians kneeling in prayer before water cannons, your co-worker’s status update about their great aunt’s urinary tract infection. We consume narratives and myths about our identities and relationships; we play into and become the various archetypes we have been fed; our lives have become little more than mass-produced scripts in a cultural factory. Our lovers and vocation, our activism and art, all of it just becomes the symbolic touchstones by which we can fuel the spectacle of our own identities.

As Guy Debord explains, “The spectacle is not a collection of images, rather, it is a social relationship between people that is mediated by images... All that was once directly lived has become mere representation,” (thesis 4, 1994).

Oh, and the economy is collapsing. While we are busy consuming our own manufactured identities with which we might impress the other products of the assembly line, across the world the system is failing with spectacular consequence. The marble of the Acropolis is regularly bathed in the light of fire from the riots that ebb and flow across Athens. Youth unemployment in core European economies is hitting as high as 50% in some areas. Fukushima and the fallout over the Senkaku/Diaoyu islands has pushed Japan’s economy to the precipice. Global food prices are skyrocketing due to catastrophic droughts and crop failures on a scale not seen in nearly a century. Nation after nation is beginning to unravel as the pressure begins to hit critical mass; Syria to Spain, Mexico to Detroit.

Increasingly things are spinning out of control.

Our societies’ demands far exceed the capacity of the planet to support it, and the collapse of our world order is coming down to simple maths.

Our high priests of Economics, the grand wizards of the spectacle, fiercely deny this and demand ever more blood sacrifice from us in order to end the eclipse of their infinite future.

This new process celebrates the capacity for art to be an active, generative process that produces social change, rather than suggesting it. By exploring complex systems of cultural context, human engagement, and knowledge, it is becoming an art form focused on the production of context, rather than content.

So what is left for art? Existence has been replaced with representation, meaning replaced with mimicry, and depth replaced with the derivative. Art has become little more than the signifier of a social niche. Art is no longer identified with catharsis and poesis. It is now identified by a price tag. We have become more interested in the aesthetic value of that string of digits. Indeed, the price tag has become the art’s true content. What is left for those of us who truly love art, not for how it identifies us to the world but for how it allows us to engage with the world?

Over the past few decades, concepts about the role and nature of art itself have begun to shift radically. Art has begun to use the social sphere as a point of departure. It has begun to extend authorship through participatory processes. Artistic processes such as social sculpture, relational aesthetics and new genre public art have ushered in a new era. It is a reconceptualization of the artistic process. As the group WochenKlausur states, “Artistic creativity is no longer seen as a formal act but as an intervention into society.”

This new process celebrates the capacity for art to be an active, generative process that produces social change, rather than suggesting it. By exploring complex systems of cultural context, human engagement, and knowledge, it is becoming an art form focused on the production of context, rather than content. It’s process is collaborative and participatory, manifesting through things such as community supported interventions, shared resources, collective decision making, and lateral social structures.

The process is an inquiry with the participants, and is executed through constructing formalized structures that ensure community participation.

It advocates for social regeneration with the recognition that the society we wish to live in is not an end goal, but an active process of creation.

point to make. You don’t matter. Your brand, your spectacle, it’s irrelevant. It’s about the fucking art.

“Only on condition of a radical widening of definitions will it be possible for art and activities related to art [to] provide evidence that art is now the only evolutionary-revolutionary power.

Only art is capable of dismantling the repressive effects of a senile social system that continues to totter along the death-line: to dismantle in order to build ‘a social organism as a work of art’… Every human being is an artist, who – from his state of freedom – the position of freedom that he experiences at first-hand – learns to determine the other positions of the total artwork of the future social order.” - Joseph Beuys (Art into Society, Society into Art (ICA, London, 1974), p.48.)

Courtesy of Wildfire Collective, a collective of decentralized community empowerment programs, providing resources for multigenerational advocacy and a re-localized sustainable future.

More information at franklittles.org

Thus the content is simply the armature of a sculpture in which the context of human interaction becomes the form. It is the democratization of art, the extension of ownership, the participation in our own lives and our ability to create our own aesthetic context through relationship. There is only one more

theory-magazine.com

43

NATHAN IRA PERFORMANCE ARTIST

“You Deserve A Flower”

N

athan Ira is a performance artist. His primary medium is his actions and body.

Unlike other mediums of art, performance art is difficult to archive. The art happens in the moment, it is defined by the viewer as it happens. A person can watch a video, or view a photograph, but nothing will match the experience of being there and witnessing the performance as it unfolds. A video cannot recreate the atmosphere and tension in the room or the physical reactions of the audience.

44

He came to a stop in the center of the room and stood stock still. The crowd remained silent. The energy in the room was palpable.

One of Nathan’s ongoing projects is called “You Deserve A Flower.” It is an attempt to positively impact people’s lives. Nathan began the project by wandering the streets and giving people flowers with a note saying, “For whatever you are dealing with, you deserve this.” He makes the moment fairly personal by only carrying one flower at a time. The note attached to the flower has an email address on the back. Nathan chronicles any responses the email receives on the project’s blog. (youdeseveaflower.blogspot. com) The project gained international attention through the press, and has since grown to involve other people who are volunteering to hand out flowers.

My first physical introduction to Nathan’s work beyond reading about “You Deserve a Flower” was at “Welcome To Me,” a solo show that he performed at The Cottonwood Club in November of 2012. I went to the show having no idea what to expect. The invitation was decidedly vague and even after getting to the show and seeing what was going on, I was still unclear. The venue had been covered in yellow translucent plastic, and Nathan was wandering around with a notebook and a sharpie, writing facts about his life on the plastic. He was writing things like “When I was 13, I saw 49 days with a min. temperature of 10 degrees.” The entire space was covered with facts like that regarding Nathan’s life. It was very mathematical and precise. I walked up to Nathan and tried to engage him in conversation. He ignored me. He wasn’t talking to anybody.

As a work of art, “You Deserve a Flower” physically boils down to a flower and a note with ten words on it, the real weight of the art lies in the experience of receiving the flower and the resulting emotions. The only true viewers of Nathan’s work in “You Deserve A Flower” are those who have received a flower.

The space was beginning to fill up with people who had come to see the show. It was a typical scene for an art show, beer, wine, and conversations were flowing and people were milling around reading the facts. Suddenly, Nathan stopped writing and began to violently tear down the plastic. He was slashing at it with

theory-magazine.com

a razor blade and running around ripping it off the walls. The crowd stopped speaking and stood still to watch. Nathan continued to tear away the plastic, while at the same time tearing off his clothes. By the time all of the plastic had been stripped off the walls, all of Nathan’s clothes save his underwear had also been stripped off.

He came to a stop in the center of the room and stood stock still. The crowd remained silent.

The energy in the room was palpable. The walls beneath the plastic had also been written on.

Once my attention wandered from Nathan standing there, I began to read other facts about Nathan. Facts that were personal and deep Secret facts that were close to him. There were things like “I’m afraid I’m a terrible artist,” and “I am loved for my openness.” They were things that were extremely revealing. The atmosphere in the room did not dissipate, the silence continued, and Nathan stood there for almost an hour. People began to approached him, hugged him, told him their own vulnerablities.

He had created an incredible experience for the audience. It wasn’t just about him, it was about the audience experiencing his feelings and reflecting on their own truths.

“Welcome To Me” at The Cottonwood Club, 2012, Photos by Ethan Fasching

theory-magazine.com 45

Video Stills from “The Pedestal” at The Cottonwood Club

I recently sat down with Nathan to discuss “Welcome To Me,” along with art and life in general.

Who were your earliest inspirations to become an artist?

I don’t think there was one person. It was more like one event. I got done with high school and had no fucking idea what I wanted to do at all.

I finally decided to go to college, and a week before college, me and my friend Max took a trip to San Francisco, and I did acid for the first time in Golden Gate Park. I ended up just sitting down and painting for three hours straight. From then on it’s been art all the way. I was painting for a while, and then a couple of years ago I was introduced to an artist named Marina Abramovic who is a really incredible performance artist.

She was a huge inspiration to me to start trying performance art. As far as artists go, she was a big influence.

When you started the “You Deserve a Flower” project. did you have any idea how much attention it would get in the press?

Not really. I didn’t really think it was going to happen. I started the project, and then I didn’t really think it was going to work, because I didn’t have enough money for flowers. They are kind of expensive. So I thought maybe if I contact a newspaper, and get a little story printed up that I could find some support. Then they just threw it on the front page and I was like, “Whoa.” Now 46

theory-magazine.com

All I’m trying to do is give you a little bit of positivity. I’m not trying to get anything. I’m not trying to push anything on anyone. the blog is closing in on 8,000 hits. The next step is getting more funding, and buying more flowers for people across the globe.

Do you have a team of people that are helping you hand them out?

Yeah, I’ve got one girl in Australia, a guy in New York, a guy in Portland, another in Salt Lake.

Are they friends of yours or people that randomly contacted you?

Some of them are friends and some of them contacted me.

What was your favorite element of this project so far?

My favorite part is giving flowers to old women, because they get SO happy. Going and handing out flowers can kind of suck a lot. There is a huge amount of rejection that you face. A lot of people think I’m trying to get something from them, or they just don’t understand and say no. All I’m trying to do is give you a little bit of positivity. I’m not trying to get anything. I’m not trying to push anything on anyone. It’s just a positive gesture. Yet, people are so quick to reject it.

So people do turn down the flowers?

Oh, yeah. Quite often actually.

What is the percentage of people who turn them down?

Probably two or three out of ten. But that was more in the beginning. Now it’s probably less because I kind of choose who I give flowers to, which I don’t like, but it’s become obvious, for instance, that older men don’t like getting flowers. I can look at somebody nowadays and tell if they are going to say no or yes.

Is there a deeper level that we can dig into that or is it just the way it is?

I don’t know. I think it’s mostly our society and gender roles. And sometimes, people are just too busy. I try to find people who look like they are having a hard day. Or if I see a mom, I always try to give a mom a flower. If you are carting around two kids and running errands all day, that’s hard.

I don’t like running errands myself, but if I had to do it while carting around two little kids who are just saying stuff at me all day and getting distracted and wandering off, that is a whole other thing.

Which “You Deserve a Flower” e-mail response had the greatest effect on you?

There was one where a girl essentially described her thought process when I gave her a flower.

She said “I saw you walking down the street and thought, ‘Oh, I wonder who that flower is for? That is so sweet,’ and then I realized that the flower was for me, and it totally turned my entire day around.” She elaborated how she had been stressed out from work, class and all this stuff and how that one simple gesture had such a large effect. When I got that e-mail, I thought that, for me, I would have had that same thought pattern.

The show “Welcome to Me” was a very personally revealing event. How did you mentally prepare for it?

Oh, man. Just convincing myself it was going to be good art. I don’t view myself as a particularly talented person. I’m not a great drawer. I’m not a great painter. I can do words pretty well. I like to think that I am a good poet, but I don’t have enough innate skill to rely on that for my art. I have to be really open and truthful with my work.

I think that is one of my biggest strengths, so why not exploit that to the maximum? Within “Welcome To Me,” I thought that there were enough universal truths on the wall behind the plastic that people could relate to. So it would be more people seeing the truths and relating to them, than reading them and judging me for it. But that was only my mindset half the time.

The other half of the time it was the other way.

It was like, “People are going to judge me. This is stupid. Why am I telling people when I lost my virginity? Why am I telling people that I question my sexuality?” I don’t know, it was a fucking roller coaster month leading up to that. I had been preparing for the show for a long time, but it didn’t ever become real until the last two weeks. Then it was like, “Holy shit, people are actually going to see this.”

So when you did the show, did you have any idea how the audience was going to react?

I had no idea. I can’t even believe that people cried. That one blew me away. That was something that I never really thought my art could be capable of. Some of it was my friends, and they were crying, because there were ways that I tried to kill myself, and why I hate myself.

And my friends, they love me, and they care about me, so seeing that hurt them. But then it was also some complete strangers, which really, really shocked me.

I was shocked by the complete rapture and silence that enveloped the room once you started tearing the plastic down.

Yes, that came as a surprise to me as well.

Something I did not expect.

Is there a reaction from the audience that you strive to achieve?

I never really know. It’s about setting up a parameter for an experience. I try not to practice it. The more practice it is, the more it turns into a piece of theater, or a play. Like I’ve got my lines memorized, and I know what I’m going to do every moment. If it’s like that, you lose a lot

Nathan hurls colorful plates off of a bridge in this video still from “Over The Fence”

It’s about setting up a parameter for an experience.

I try not to practice it. of truth in it. I just set up a situation and see what happens.

With the pedestal project, were you aware of how long it was going to take to break it down?

No. Not at all. I jumped up on that pedestal and five hacks into it, I was like, “Oh my god.

This is way fucking hard. I am so stupid. I just got myself into this? Are you kidding me?” My right hand was recently sprained, so I went into the show thinking I would have to do it all lefthanded. I started, and it was way harder than I expected, and I said, “You are going to have to use your right hand. For the next however long, pain isn’t a thing. It’s going to hurt a lot later, it’s going to hurt a lot tomorrow, and the next day, but for right now, pain is not a thing.”

You also write poetry and your work strives to bring poetry into a three dimensional world.

Where is the line between performance art and poetry?

I don’t know if there needs to be a line. If I were to draw one, it would be words. If there are words involved, and I’m talking, and there is some audio, then it is more poetry, but they are so intertwined at this point. Performance art is my body as the medium, essentially. In most of my videos, I’m using my own voice and my own body, which are very similar mediums. In the past, I didn’t really see those two disciplines melding. I had been working on them in parallel, and then one day, they just started coming together.

Would you consider yourself a spiritual person?

Yeah, I think so... with most religions there is so much bullshit tied on with these good messages. A lot of them have really good core messages like “Care for each other,” and “Don’t be a dick.” That is the main message behind a good amount of religions, but so much bad is done in the name of religion that for a while, I totally rejected all religions. I was like, “Nah, I’m not spiritual; we’re all just creatures.” A real

nihilist kind of view. Then I realized that being a nihilist is equally as big a cop-out as being super religious. You are just turning a blind eye and shutting everything out, like “Nothing matters,” or “Everything I do matters.” Either way you go is as equal a cop-out. As far as spirituality goes for me, it boils down to this Carl Sagan quote, “We are a way for the universe to know itself.”

That to me makes more sense explaining why we are here than everything else I’ve ever heard.

Because we are “of the universe.” We are all leftover star parts.

Why do you make art?

Why? It’s something I feel like I have to do. It brings me more joy than anything I do, for sure.

I really like that connection you get with people.

If you are making really good art, 95% of the people that come to your show aren’t going to get it or aren’t even going to try to get it. In that tiny little group of people left over that are really trying to get it, some of them might get it. And when they do, talking to them about it, and having a dialogue based on that art is the reason I make art. It’s more about that human connection and connecting each other and getting to the core of something real. Too many times you go out, and you’re just bullshitting, which is good. You need it. You need that social interaction. You need the bullshit. But, there is time for something more than that. I think, as a society, we need more open, honest dialogues. I feel like I have something, and I really need to share it.

What does Nathan Ira have planned for the future?

Shorter term, I’m working on a digital video about the “You Deserve a Flower” project. I’m making a poetry album, brainstorming for more shows, trying to apply to galleries, trying to get some grants. Once I finish up school, I want to move to a big city to try to make an art career.

You can watch videos of Nathan’s performances at vimeo.com/nathanira.

theory-magazine.com 47

HATTIE BOWEN PAINTER

W

ho is Hattie Bowen?

That is a deep question.

The perfect question right after you graduate college.

I know, right? It’s like who am I? What am I doing? I’m a Montanan, through and through, but I’m also not a Montanan at the same time.

I’ve lived here my entire life, and I’ve always felt like I don’t belong here at all. It sounds horrible, because there’s a lot of really awesome things about Montana that I really like, but living here is my enemy. I don’t want to sound cynical, but there is just such a lack of diversity here. I need to get out of this little fishbowl that is Montana.

So you’re a Montanan, but not a Montanan?

I’ve always felt like a weirdo. I’ve always felt different than everybody else. It is probably really cliche to say, because everyone feels like that, but being a queer artist in Montana is so weird.

Just because people don’t know how to react to you. They aren’t exposed to people like that, so they don’t know how to react to you. It makes things a lot harder.

What’s the most extreme viewer reaction to your work that you’ve ever experienced?

Let’s see, Somebody wrote a little comment at my Exit Gallery show and said they thought my work was “obscene,” but I never knew who that was, or how they actually reacted to my work.

Would you consider “obscene” a negative comment?

Well, they said something positive, but then wrote that they thought it was obscene, so it was kind of weird. I haven’t seen many negative reactions.

When did you first know art was something you wanted to pursue full-time?

The first two years of college, I went to Montana Western-Dillon. The only reason I went there was to play basketball, which was my main focus for a long time. I got there and realized that it was the worst place I could have gone for coming to terms with myself, and developing as an individual. It was the worst place I’ve ever been.

I just went there to be fair, and everyone was asking me, “What do I really want to do?” I really wanted to play basketball, but I didn’t want to be there anymore. Art was always something I was passionate about, so I decided to pursue it and get the fuck out of there.

Do you practice other forms of art besides painting?

I like to write. A lot of my work has text, or is text-influenced. I don’t know if I’d call it poetry, but I do like to write. That is something that has

48

theory-magazine.com

“Stranger 01 Descends,” acrylic and oil on wood panel 30”x30”x2”, 2012

I want people to talk about it. To just relate to it in a way.

To be critical of the way our culture is structured. come pretty naturally for me. It’s another creative outlet that I have. I am working on developing it more. I think now that I’m out of school, I’ll have more time to write. That will be good.

How do you come up with your words that you use in your work? Is there a process behind it or a message you are trying to convey?

At some points in my previous work, I would sit down and write out a big long page of text. I would then do a ridiculous amount of editing and cut it down until I found the one sentence that described exactly what I was trying to say. Now I’m working on a full narrative that I’m going to illustrate through my paintings. Its not very far developed yet, but I’m working on it. For my next show, I’m considering having the whole narrative there, so people can read it. Parts of the text will

also be fragmented throughout the paintings.

You don’t get the same, full experience if you are painting all the words. The narrative is going to be a social commentary, a cultural criticism about the societal “other.” It’s really easy for people to conform to society and for everyone to feel apathetic about making change. The story is about this group of people who rise up against that.

What type of reaction do you hope to achieve when you are making art?

I hope they can relate to it in such a way that they can see where they fit in – and be critical of it – instead of just accepting it for what it is, like a lot of people do by not thinking about it.

“The Functioner,” acrylic and oil on wood panel, 42”x42”x2”, 2011 “Growing strong/growing strange,” acrylic and oil on wood panel , 36”x24”x2”, 2011 , (next page)

theory-magazine.com

49

Can you talk about the meaning behind your “tolerance” piece?

People use that word in such a positive way.

In my opinion, it is not such a positive word.

Tolerating something implies that whatever it is that you’re tolerating is intrinsically bad. The word tolerance seems like a bad word to me. I don’t think anyone wants to be “tolerated.” If acceptance is too cheesy of a word, there’s got to be a better word we can use to describe how different people can interact. There has got to be a different way.

How does the emerging future of technology and social media – this instantaneous form of sharing – affect you as an artist?

I think it makes it harder, honestly. At least for people who are traditionally based, in how they make their work. That is how I am now.

The internet makes it harder for people to pay attention. There are so many other ways for people to access visual information quickly.

It puts art in a new context. Younger people today are more used to viewing their iPad or a screen than an actual, physical piece of artwork that somebody made. I think it’s going to be more difficult in the future to create fine art, but at the same time, technology provides the artist great opportunities. There are so many more things you can do, and so many more ways to combine media. There are a lot more possibilities, so it’s complicated.

The internet is a huge looming thing. It is overwhelming. The internet makes everyone feel important, but it also makes everyone really insignificant. It makes me feel lost in this endless web, literally and figuratively.

“Yet,” acrylic and oil on wood panel, 36”x24”x2”, 2012

The internet makes everyone feel important, but it also makes everyone really insignificant.

You are a member of “Others,” what have the benefits of being involved with this group been?

So far it has been nice to have a group of peers outside of school that all trust each other and are familiar with your work. You can interact honestly with everyone’s work. After being done with school, it’s hard to get a sense of how to continue developing your work without some kind of interaction with other people. It’s feedback and discussion that is really important.

What are your goals for this year after graduation?

I am applying to grad schools right now. If that doesn’t work out, I’d like to apply to some residencies so that I can continue to develop my work at an even more significant rate.

52

theory-magazine.com

“There is faith in our familiarity,” acrylic on wood panel, 24”x36”x2”, 2011

53

“Assimilation,” acrylic on wood panel, 24”x36”x2”, 2011

NATHAN REID UNTITLED POEMS

54

theory-magazine.com

theory-magazine.com

55

QR CODES ARE THE TRAMP STAMPS OF THE DESIGN WORLD. BY THEORY MAGAZINE EDITORIAL STAFF Some genius also created a service where you can embed a QR code on a gravestone to “reignite living memories of deceased loved ones.”

Worried about your child running away? You can order a “QR SafetyTat” to temporarily tattoo your child with a code, that when scanned, presents the user with parental information and special child-care instructions. That way, if your child is abducted, the kidnapper will know to cut the crusts of your kid’s PB&Js. A bizarre campaign in Washington for Planned Parenthood created QR coded condoms.

Teenagers can scan to “check-in” their sexual encounters anonymously to promote safe sex and contraception. Just finished having sex? Why not lean over and scan the condom wrapper you just used. Wow, little Johnny is quite proud to wear protection.

Q

R codes are infectious marketing tools that are being used and abused. Honestly, when was the last time you tried to scan one? If you haven’t scanned one, do you even know what they are?

“Quick response codes” were first developed for the automotive industry in 1994 by Denzo Wave Corporation, a subsidiary of Toyota. The QR codes were used to track vehicle parts during the manufacturing process. Since 1994, the codes have looked the same. QR codes pretty much stayed on our Toyota’s mufflers where they belong, until a few years ago, when QR codes reappeared in society to be used as a business and marketing tactic. During advent of smartphone technology, cell phones became capable of capturing high resolution images. People then

developed applications that would allow phones to scan QR codes. The codes could be generated with online software that would point the user scanning the unique code to a particular website.

The technology slowly caught on and became a popular “viral marketing” practice.

Since then, QR codes have been used in some pretty weird ways. At the Modez Hotel in Arnhem, Netherlands, there is a QR code covered room. We’re talking floor, walls, curtains and bedspreads, all covered in QR codes. When any code in the room is scanned, the guest is directed to pornographic material. The designer, Antoine Peters, made the room symbolically abstract and commented, “Like reality, we are always secretly surrounded by porn.”

It could be argued that QR codes are creating two classes of our society, those with the technology to access information that QR codes hold captive behind their pixelated walls, and those that cannot access it, those that are left out in the cold to stare at the robot barf wall wondering, “What’s behind that terrible thing?”

Shouldn’t the information in your advertising campaign be accessible to all people? Not just those with “smart-phones?”

All philosophies aside, QR codes are just plain hard to scan. You need proper lighting, they need to on a flat surface and be the right size. They also need to be on an object that doesn’t move around a lot. Scanning a QR code, which at first seems like a time-saving endeavor, can quickly become a very time-consuming process.

If you really insist on implementing a QR code, Kevin Moreland of BCM Marketing has nine questions to ask yourself: Is the surface mobile-friendly?

Can consumers physically get to the code?

Will the consumer have internet access?

Is it big enough?

Is information at a minimum?

Does it lead to a mobile-friendly destination?

Is there value behind the code?

Will consumers realize there is value behind the code?

Have I scanned this?

When it comes to responsible QR code usage, the placement is everything. Don’t cause a dangerous accident because someone tried to scan your stupid QR code on a billboard while cruising at 75 mph on the highway. While we’re on the subject, it doesn’t make sense to place a QR code on a car either, unless its parked, but even then, it’s still fucking ugly.

56

theory-magazine.com

Quiet rememberance is so 2008, streamline and modernize your loved ones grieving process today!

Scanning this QR code brings you to the morgue.

Driving an unmarked van is mysterious enough, unmarked QR code van? That’s just creepy.

In case you are wondering, StrawAds.com no longer exists. I wonder why?

Just lower your $400 iPhone into the tank so you can and learn about... toilets?

You are seeing that right, a QR code on an infomercial. Quick! Scan it! Wait, it’s gone.

This ad is for Presbyterians with ten foot arms who have the power to stop wind.

If you are going to put an ugly ass pixel grid on your design that, when scanned, takes you to a website, at least tell us what the website it is.

That way, even us “non-scanners” can find our way to your crappy promotion page. (I’m looking at you, Mr. QR code on my fucking banana.)

curious people everywhere to educate themselves about mother nature. Google has also launched “Project Glass” where augmented reality is accessible through a heads-up-display installed in special eye-glasses. Heady.

If you still feel so compelled to use a QR code, be sure to use a service that has tracking analytics. Also, your code better point to a mobile friendly website. For God’s sake, if your marketer is so savvy, you better make sure your web content is optimized for all viewing platforms. Its called responsive web design.

Google it.

Instead of blindly insisting how awesome QR codes are, challenge youself to re-think how effective our technology is utilized for marketing a product, idea or information. Think beautiful, simple, and engaging. The idea behind QR codes could provide a foundation for technology to grow into a seamless tool. We should all be critical of how we use our technology and always question all advertising.

Also, keep in mind, there always needs to be an incentive for the victim who is scanning your QR code. Entice them with a deal, or more information that can’t fit in your ad or promotion.

Without incentive, QR codes are a complete waste of space and an eye-sore.

So please, if you must use a QR code, do it wisely, otherwise it might end up on the WTF QR codes blog. Here’s the url, wait fuck it, just scan this QR code below. If you need more solid evidence of QR codes irrelevance, or just a good laugh try the other one too.

Image recognition technology (IRT) is evolving quickly. These black and white pixelated poop squares are not going to last. The future is in Google Goggles, a downloadable image recognition application. This technology allows anyone to snap a photo of something like a national monument, and the the application instantly finds related information online.

Currently, Google is making the system able to recognize different plants and leaves, enabling

picturesofpeoplescanningqrcodes.tumblr.com wtfqrcodes.com Are you fat? Scan my yogurt covered dick and become my friend. Everything will get better.

Images courtesy of wtfqrcodes.com

theory-magazine.com 57

BOZEMAN ART COMMUNITY RESOURCES The Cottonwood Club - Free event space, art gallery & studio space (Find on Facebook) The Bozeman Magpie - Local online independent newspaper (bozeman-magpie.com) Others - Bozeman Contemporary Art Coalition.

Studio spaces and gallery. (Find on Facebook) The Good Rats - Promoting local arts.

Frank Littles - Community info-shop, meeting space, and home of Wildfire Collective. (franklittles.org or drop in at 109 S. 8th½) Tart - Boutique and contemporary art gallery.

(111 S. Grand Ave. #107C - tartique.com) Lamewavve - All ages Music venue and event space. (Behind Wild Joe’s - lamewavve.info) Cactus Records & Gifts - Inedpendent record store, art gallery, seller of locally made goods.

(29 W. Main St. - cactusrecords.net)

58

theory-magazine.com

LAMEWAVVE

Wild Joe’s Coffeespot - Coffee shop & art gallery.

(18 W. Main St. wildjoescoffee.com) Country Bookshelf - Independent bookstore.

(28 W. Main St. (countrybookshelf.com)

NEW YEAR DUBVTSHIRTS.com

IT’S CHILL...

IT’S CHILL...

theory-magazine.com

59

Spa. Gallery. Salon. Movement Studio.

The Loft is a community space that supports and cultivates local art and music.

We are proud to partner with Theory Magazine to host their launch party events.

406 . 586 . 0530

Located on the corner of Bozeman & Main, Third Floor F&H Building

theloftspabozeman.com