Golem, 2017
Photo: Christoph Harringer
Collection
Glazed ceramic, plinth (wood, screws, plasticine, synthetic resin filling compound)
20 x 20 x 22 cm (ceramic)
70.5 x 41 x 41 cm (plinth)
The forms of provocation that exist in Gelatin’s practice have often encouraged interpretations which consider their work’s reception as much as they do its formal or conceptual content, not least in relation to their more performative works. Comments that their work incites “a critical reflection on moral conduct,” or produces “a gallery of attitudes” occur primarily in reaction to their frequent nudity, repeated engagement with bodily orifices and excrement, and absurdist performances, and treat the space surrounding their work as a space of potential ethical judgement by the viewer.[1] If such a dimension in Gelatin’s practice exists, then it derives from their recurrent success in disestablishing boundaries usually adhered to by institutions, artists and viewers alike. Often regarded as hedonistic for their tendency to draw inspiration from desire, their work might be further elucidated by properly tracing hedonism back to its philosophical antecedent in ancient cynicism. Peter Osborne’s identification of “the Cynics’ polemical lack of sexual shame: masturbating in public … for example, as [a] philosophical [act] refusing the Sophists’ distinction between nature and convention (physis and nomos), upon which ethics was founded,” can certainly be linked to Gelatin’s various pleasure-seeking behaviors, and strongly to their 2017 exhibition New York Golem. The “pissing and shitting” which form the subjects of other works such as Das Kakabet (2007), All Together Now (2011), and Vorm - Fellows - Attitude (2018), also contribute to their revival of a classically cynical spirit.[2]
In particular, the performative aspect which lay behind the production of their 42 golem sculptures for their show at Greene Naftali in 2017 consisted in all four members using their genitals as tools with which to form clay into the ceramic works which sit atop their individually crafted plinths. As claimed in the press release, each ceramic bore the “marks of its creation in passion.”[3] By filming this process, Gelatin created the conditions for it to become public: indeed the video appeared on YouTube, only to be removed in accordance with the site’s nudity and sexual content policies at a later date. Their willingness to film and display the production of these works nonetheless represented not only a desire to erase the boundary between the traditionally private conditions of the studio, and the public moment of the work’s exhibition but also the aforementioned division between nature and convention that broadly determines most forms of ethical judgement. To the extent that the video exists as a kind of performative critique, its central message lies in its seizure of art as a permissible space in which an excessive sort of freedom can exist - the film’s provocation obviously lay in its graphic portrayal of the artists’ creative process. Such unashamed enactments are characteristic of Gelatin’s anarchic and irreverent approach to art making, and undoubtedly lead recipients of their work to question the limits of their own judgement. –Elsa Gray
[1] See essay by Francesco Stocchi in Dieter Roelstraete and Peter Sloterdijk, Gelatin: Vorm - Fellows - Attitude (Rotterdam: Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, 2018)
[2] Peter Osborne, “Disguised as a Dog: Cynical Occupy?,” in Radical Philosophy 174.1 (Jul/aUG 2012)
[3] Exhibition press release, available https://www.gelitin.net/projects/New-York-Golem/
20 x 20 x 22 cm (ceramic)
70.5 x 41 x 41 cm (plinth)
The forms of provocation that exist in Gelatin’s practice have often encouraged interpretations which consider their work’s reception as much as they do its formal or conceptual content, not least in relation to their more performative works. Comments that their work incites “a critical reflection on moral conduct,” or produces “a gallery of attitudes” occur primarily in reaction to their frequent nudity, repeated engagement with bodily orifices and excrement, and absurdist performances, and treat the space surrounding their work as a space of potential ethical judgement by the viewer.[1] If such a dimension in Gelatin’s practice exists, then it derives from their recurrent success in disestablishing boundaries usually adhered to by institutions, artists and viewers alike. Often regarded as hedonistic for their tendency to draw inspiration from desire, their work might be further elucidated by properly tracing hedonism back to its philosophical antecedent in ancient cynicism. Peter Osborne’s identification of “the Cynics’ polemical lack of sexual shame: masturbating in public … for example, as [a] philosophical [act] refusing the Sophists’ distinction between nature and convention (physis and nomos), upon which ethics was founded,” can certainly be linked to Gelatin’s various pleasure-seeking behaviors, and strongly to their 2017 exhibition New York Golem. The “pissing and shitting” which form the subjects of other works such as Das Kakabet (2007), All Together Now (2011), and Vorm - Fellows - Attitude (2018), also contribute to their revival of a classically cynical spirit.[2]
In particular, the performative aspect which lay behind the production of their 42 golem sculptures for their show at Greene Naftali in 2017 consisted in all four members using their genitals as tools with which to form clay into the ceramic works which sit atop their individually crafted plinths. As claimed in the press release, each ceramic bore the “marks of its creation in passion.”[3] By filming this process, Gelatin created the conditions for it to become public: indeed the video appeared on YouTube, only to be removed in accordance with the site’s nudity and sexual content policies at a later date. Their willingness to film and display the production of these works nonetheless represented not only a desire to erase the boundary between the traditionally private conditions of the studio, and the public moment of the work’s exhibition but also the aforementioned division between nature and convention that broadly determines most forms of ethical judgement. To the extent that the video exists as a kind of performative critique, its central message lies in its seizure of art as a permissible space in which an excessive sort of freedom can exist - the film’s provocation obviously lay in its graphic portrayal of the artists’ creative process. Such unashamed enactments are characteristic of Gelatin’s anarchic and irreverent approach to art making, and undoubtedly lead recipients of their work to question the limits of their own judgement. –Elsa Gray
[1] See essay by Francesco Stocchi in Dieter Roelstraete and Peter Sloterdijk, Gelatin: Vorm - Fellows - Attitude (Rotterdam: Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, 2018)
[2] Peter Osborne, “Disguised as a Dog: Cynical Occupy?,” in Radical Philosophy 174.1 (Jul/aUG 2012)
[3] Exhibition press release, available https://www.gelitin.net/projects/New-York-Golem/
gelitin is a group of four artists from Vienna, Austria. The group was formerly known as gelatin and changed their name in 2005. They are known for creating sensational art events in the tradition of Relational Aesthetics, often with a lively sense of humor.
Among their projects are a gigantic plush toy: a 55 meter tall pink rabbit on Colletto Fava (near Genoa, Italy), intended to remain there until 2025.[1][2] In November 2005, the group had a show at Leo Koenig, Inc. in New York, a project called Tantamounter 24/7. The project was a "gigantic, complex and very clever machine", according to the artists, which functioned as a kind of art-Xerox. The group erected a barrier blocking off one half of the space, locking themselves inside for one week, then asking visitors to insert items that they wanted copied into an opening in the barrier, which copies were then returned through another opening.[3]
This biography is from Wikipedia under an Attribution-ShareAlike Creative Commons License.
Among their projects are a gigantic plush toy: a 55 meter tall pink rabbit on Colletto Fava (near Genoa, Italy), intended to remain there until 2025.[1][2] In November 2005, the group had a show at Leo Koenig, Inc. in New York, a project called Tantamounter 24/7. The project was a "gigantic, complex and very clever machine", according to the artists, which functioned as a kind of art-Xerox. The group erected a barrier blocking off one half of the space, locking themselves inside for one week, then asking visitors to insert items that they wanted copied into an opening in the barrier, which copies were then returned through another opening.[3]
This biography is from Wikipedia under an Attribution-ShareAlike Creative Commons License.