Angela Watters

Interesting conversation always occurs in the comments section of Paddy Johnson’s posts about Bravo’s “Work of Art,” on Art Fag City.  Frequent, impish commentators like  Jesse P. Martin regularly face off against show contestants/artists like Judith Braun, Trong Nguyen, Peregrine Honig, Erik Johnson, and Nicole Naudau with heated and interesting discussions about contemporary art.  Some times these discussions can get a little ridiculous, like when Erik Johnson flipped out on Paddy Johnson in the comments of the review of the Audi episode. I made the photograph below in response to Abdi Farah‘s painting on the show last week, which Martin feels is far too similar to the paintings of Alexander Ross. I see vague similarities, but don’t feel Abdi’s work is either knowingly or unknowingly derivative. Actually, I sort of wonder whether Abdi has ever seen my badass lamp.  I took a picture of it this morning on a red bookshelf in front of an unfinished painting.

Pain Scale. L to R: No Pain, Mild Pain, Moderate Pain, Moderate Pain (interferes with concentration), Severe Pain, Worst Possible Pain

Oh, those awful universal pain scale faces you see in the doctors office. I imagine they’ve done studies and found that they are effective, otherwise they wouldn’t be so ubiquitous, but I detest them.  My contempt (and fascination) with pain scale faces stems from my experience as caretaker of mother during her battle with non-tobacco related metastatic lung cancer. In the photograph above I drew new faces on these blonde Fischer Price figures (to match the pain scale) then arranged them group portrait style on sweep of aluminum foil. I’m planning on creating more scenes for my “pain face ladies” in the future. I decided to make a group portrait, after looking through a box of old family portraits with my family this summer.

Here are links to my collective’s CFE. Check out the first two entries to come in the mail at our Tumblr and Blog.

The Foster Collective, a Chicago based artist collective, seeks visual and written responses to the oil disaster in the Gulf. All entries must be on gas station paper towels. You can draw, paint, collage or write directly on the paper towel. Or, glue or tape your artwork/photograph to the paper towel. Paper towels can be found at any gas station and are usually in the same container as the windshield squeegee. Paper towels can be any color or texture.

Requirements:
1. Leave a 1inch margin at the top for hanging.
2. Please submit the whole paper towel. Do not cut or add to the dimensions, which are typically 9 1/8 x 10 1/8 inches.
3. Write your name, email address, and location on the back.

If you want your piece returned, please include a self-addressed stamped envelope (SASE) with your entry. The postmark deadline for inclusion in the Landslide Gallery exhibition is July 19. We are currently exploring venues for future exhibitions in other cities. The Foster Collective does not charge an entry fee.

Postmark Deadline for Chicago Exhibition: July 19, 2010
Exhibition: Gulf Oil Disaster Response
Sponsor: The Foster Collective
Location: Landslide Gallery, Chicago, IL
Exhibition Dates: July 23-31, 2010

Questions: fostercollective@gmail.com

I don’t love the show, Work of Art. But, I think it is entertaining. For me it works best when paired with Paddy Johnson’s commentary on Art Fag City.

I cut the top of the heads of the FP figures off, glued them back on with a glue gun and photographed them from above.  I wanted the sad face to be a cross between the typical face of one of these little FP figures and one from a pain chart in a doctor’s office or hospital.  This face is based on a child I taught, who I believe was suffering from some type of childhood depression.  He was always the odd kid out in groups and would earnestly protest that people were picking on him. Really, I imagine we’ve all felt like this at one time or another. We wonder why everyone else seems to be having an easy time in life.  Perhaps, those suffering from depression are actually the only ones keyed in to what is actually going on? Life can be tough, rough, and is certainly short. Maybe the figure with the sad face is the only one whose eyes are open to reality?  Or, perhaps this is all wrong and the one with the sad face in the crowd is just the first to see the missile headed straight towards them.

UPDATE: 8/21/2010

This is the photograph that inspired my collective’s call for entries, “Visual Response to the Gulf Oil Disaster.”  I grew up playing on the beach on Galveston Island and swimming in Galveston Bay.   My parents bought a rickety old cottage on the shore of Galveston Bay in the early 1980s and we would go down there on weekends as often as we could.  After my father was killed in a bicycle accident, my mother moved out there and fixed the place up. She build beautiful English style gardens, including a garden to attract butterflies.  She became interested in local ecology and volunteered at the nearby nature center. She would tell anyone who asked about the plight of her favorite bird, the yellow crowned night heron.  From her house on the bay you could see seabirds, boats and fires from refineries. Right before my tobacco free mother was diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer in 2005, a Texas City Refinery (owned by BP) exploded killing 15 people and injuring 170 others. This same year Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and Hurricane Rita forced us all to evacuate.  My aunt drove my mother, who was too sick to fly to my grandmother’s house in Arlington. She couldn’t walk at that point or use the restroom by herself.  What was normally a 5 hour drive, took 12 hours. She died two months later, and my sister and I held on to the house for a couple years longer, selling it just months before it was destroyed by Hurricane Ike.

I took this photograph in May of this year when the oil gusher had just begun. I desperately wanted more information about what was going on, but all I could see were aerial photographs of an orangish slick substance. I spoke to my boyfriend on the phone, who theorized that this disaster could cause a slick around the world.  I went shopping at Home Goods and spotted this globe along with a box of gummi letters.  I took them home and made the photograph in a day.  I like how the gummi letters look eerie when lit.  At the time nobody was talking about the “spill.” I’m not sure whether it was too scary for people or whether people in the rest of the country just didn’t feel like it effected them.  Now, this has changed. I think people are beginning to understand that what happens in the Gulf doesn’t end in the Gulf.  The Foster Collective’s Gulf Oil Disaster Response received entries from all over the country and even one from Italy.  It was an inclusive project (no-jury/no-fee), which allowed artists to make sense of the tragedy through what they do best, making art. Soon it will be traveling to a gallery in Huntsville, Alabama and I hope to other places too.