In certain philosophical traditions there is a precept, which explains the value of any material not only by examining its physical properties, but also by recounting its passage into being and considering the people whose effort shaped it’s development. Take for example a simple cotton t-shirt, if followed back to its origin as cotton plants, we would see that in order for it to evolve into a garment, it would be shaped by numerous people.
Its path would begin in the form of plants that needed seeding, tending and harvesting. As bales of raw cotton it would move to a factory where it would be cleaned and woven together into material, implicating more people and machines (operated by people). As fabric the cotton would be cut into patterns and sewn together, involving still more people. Finally the t-shirt would be packed, loaded, shipped, and distributed again requiring yet another labor source.
In addition to the broader notion of showing the interconnectivity of people, the function of this kind of thinking is also meant to emphasize the value inherent in any material, based not only on its physical value, but the sheer amount of human labor that goes into creating refined materials (or facilitating the growth of organic ones). Not incidentally, this kind of thinking assigns value to the most basic kind of human endeavor, in essence honoring work, regardless of it’s nature, as intrinsically valuable because it is a reflection of the human spirit in action.
In contemporary culture, where unfixable appliances, outdated 3 year-old computers, and throw-aways of all types are the norm, it is hard to deny that we have become disconnected with the simple idea that material of all kinds, whether plastic, rubber, cotton, aluminum, or gold is fundamentally valuable. And sadly, woven into this loss of respect for material, is an even more systemic loss of respect for the basic tradition of human, physical labor.
If we presume that art and artists typically have a particularly intimate relationship with materials, one that perhaps more than others, is meant to honor the preciousness of material, one might predict that a movement towards reversing this faulty relationship vis-a-vie people and their materials would start among artists. In fact, it doesn’t take much searching to find that today there is a wave of such artists concerning themselves with this very issue of reusing existing materials to create their art.
Certainly the notion of reusing material for art’s sake is not new. However, a focus on using what is left over, in essence, repurposing material detached from a posture of critique regarding it’s original origin, is where this new trend appears to be carving out it’s own niche. It’s work that celebrates the temporary and defies all tradition about how we define worth. It gently suggests that at a time when melting icecaps are a reality, discussions in art around collecting and archivability seem at best outdated, at worst tantamount to burying one’s head in the sand.
With this in mind the Loop Show brings together a group of artists whose work collectively presents a vision of the art object as something rich and vibrant born of cast off materials, the things we are leaving behind.
China Adams
