Loss is Expected...a working rundown

Karen Louis's physically interactive installation Loss is Expected maps the artists personal journey of discovery as told through stories of turbulence and transience in a city sphere. Both playful and melancholic; arcade games, text, sculpture and performance spin, swing, block and dictate movement through a landscape that shifts between an urban playground and solitary confinement.

This is the culmination of my graduate study work at Columbia College in Chicago. The exhibition opens on Friday, April 24th and will run until May 21st, 2009. The space is designed as a performative arena, nodding clearly to my theatre background with borrowed stage flats, specifically crass lighting, and the hope that everything shifts at some point. The goal is imperfection in a carefully constructed area. The flats are painted lightly, with the hope that traffic will change the landscape. I've used pink insulation on some of the more handled aspects of the piece(bumpers, street signs, etc) because they will chip and respond to use, and that is much of the point to this piece. Loss is Expected is equally about the activation the space as well as watching the space either hold up or deteriorate with activation. It's become a durational piece.

As a performance artist, this is an interesting journey. I've created a space that places the observer as the actor, and I'm joining in, as well. This is a durational performance for me. I, too, will enter the space as specific characters who will leave their mark in the same way every character does, and it will be as subtle and as important. I love that. I'm so used to performing on a stage, yet informing those performances with my own experience and life(Strasberg, baby!), so the performance does not merely begin with entering the space. It begins with getting up. It continues with going out. It's a selfish playground, and it's one that we all charter every day. I'm really excited about that aspect, and will update as it goes, and I don't know how they will go...because I haven't gotten there yet...

This is where I have gotten. I've built a space and colored it with text:

The simplicity of building begins with getting up

Some time

We get up and begin

an afterthought

an alarm

the impetus of movement to stay alive

discover what is waiting

Weighted in discovery

get up

go

move

fulfill tasks

set goals

move

contort

shift

hope

transcribe

transpire

grow

settle

assess

hope

wake up

sleep

dream

hope

this is going to get better at some point

Isn’t that the point?

progress

grow

adapt

hope

anchor our roots

spin and swing and laugh off

That which ties us to the ground

Leaded boots

Cement overshoes

Steel toes and wounded woes

Keeping frivolous fantasies firm

And weighted circumstance learned

Reminding us what of we know

About anchoring roots in pavement

They just don’t stick

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The end begins with this:

A wink

A nudge

A promise

A lark

A deeply rooted identity

Unaware that the roots reach

The areas they touch.

A moment of wonder overwhelms

Gripping hands and tightened thighs

That build themselves into a grasp beneath a chin

And movement moves into applause and awe.

Then comes the digestion

Shortness of breath

A separation til part do us death

Staring at the happening

Of a somber cool

Confidence and collection

And the power of the promises made

To follow through to this end

That begins with this :

A wink

A nudge

A lark

A promise to grow old before growing wise

A nudge of building identity

A wink to know that it is time

To greet this end

That begins with this

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V/O to city soundscore

Welcome.

Please take a seat.

Relax.

Close your eyes.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Relax.

Congratulations.

You’ve made it here.

Open the curtain,

See how far you’ve come.

It’s okay if you are not alone.

It’s better that way.

It’s okay if you are alone.

It’s better that way.

See how far you’ve come.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Relax.

It’s okay if you are confused.

It’s better that way.

It’s okay if you are careful.

It’s better that way.

there is no need

to look up

Like a tourist

In the land that you chartered and swung through

With ease

There is no need to look down

For fear of missing the next big thing

While watching your feet walk.

That would be silly.(breathe)

There is no need

to look back

And hold yourself to the

Last blasts,

Heavy hands,

Anchors,

Grasps,

(breathe)

That hold you fast

(breathe)

to the ground

(breathe)

(breathe)

(breathe)

(breathe)

It’s better that way

Down and dirty...

My goal for this year is to workshop the crap I lay by the wayside. This is my start. A bad poem that I hope will translate into something better...

It's as simple as sitting

Simple as a pose

as quiet as grinning

while a world implodes.

I imagine you waving

as if you'd always known

that I'd end up swimming

and overgrown

from your world of anger

and the slight circumstance

that you noticed me timing

your next second chance.

I've got this dock of memory

with you tied to it's side

as I serve up chowders and soups and stories and loops

in my New England pride.

I am the problem here.

I am the one cast aside.

I am the one who fought

to tie the knots that kept up with this tide.

It's all a loosely frayed metaphor

to honor the one I most loved

as I set him off to the sea-

It's not him, it was me-

and it all worked perfectly.

He built what I wanted.

and what I saw in him.

and I didn't stop him,

or cause him to hesitate

as my silly, impassioned ties that bound

never built a knot that couldn't break. 

So, here's to you.

I cheer from my bedroom floor

that is scattered with marks and memories

and the hope for something more

simple than sitting

and posing the past

in the form of grinning

and tying off one more last

Baby, it's cold outside...

So...my thesis semester is about to begin at Columbia, and I've spent much of the holiday season working with the dynamics of my thesis proposal, which goes a little like this...

Abstract:

Loss is Expected is an installation manipulated by direction, chance and discovery designed to examine public and personal atmospheres charged by motion, triggers, patterns and anchors.

This project is inspired by  the impetus of motion, the ideals that anchor both the cities and the individuals who exist within them, and the quest for discovering a personal world in a public sphere. 

I looked to my own life, and the cities in which I have lived-Kent, Ohio, NYC, Memphis, TN, and Chicago, Il. What struck me is that all of these cities have a significant common thread; each city has had an event, or series of events, that significantly changed the direction of the city. One city completely changed, another froze in time, one stopped to consider, and another constantly reaches for the spotlight. I applied these directional shifts to my own journey, and the movement I see to all sides of the path I have have been building. I've been revisiting the things I've kept with me-the photos,  journals, letters, trinkets, and common objects infused with memories, moments and revelry, to see where those lead now, in this time and place, only to understand that all of these things actually led here. It's a common journey, colored with experience, one that is directed by shifts and choices. Atmosphere is everything. 

And then...

Apparently, I got a little too wrapped up in political agenda and forgot how to properly upload photos of recent work...so here it is(I hope)

Okay, OKAY...I've been hiding a little(lot)! I've been overwhelmed!At first, I was overwhelmed with relief and a new sense of national pride by Obama's election...I still am. I didn't go to Grant Park, much to my family's chagrin. I went to my friend's house, so I could watch the returns, the speeches, and the responses, and quickly make an escape plan, if necessary(I have been through 2 Bush elections, haven't we all?). I did cry when Pennsylvania went to Obama. I didn't know how else to react, except with pride and fruition. Obama was going to win. The US was going to elect the right candidate, hands down. Like many, I had respected McCain for his service to our country, and his constant push. He was the Republican I liked. He seemed invested in his country and his experience. I was glad he was the Republican candidate...until he chose Palin as shock treatment and a really flimsy attempt to garner the support of the Hillary camp. Guess what...I'm a Hillary camp lady. I voted her into the NY senate, and I voted for her in the primary. I've followed her career for a very long time. Granted, when I voted for her in the primary, I was in Illinois, and it could be seen as a gesture but It wasn't. Obama was going to sweep Illinois, and I was proud of that. I was also proud to vote for Hillary. I guess I wasn't voting to win-I was actually voting from my heart and, were I not in Illinois, I may have paused longer.As I told my friends later, "Hey, I get to vote for Hillary now, and Obama in November," and then would give a quick recap of Hillary as what we have already known from her political career, when questioned. What a real freedom!FINALLY!To discuss candidates. Either way, we would win.I've never felt that way in an election. Anyway, the biggest offenseof McCain was choosing Palin as his running mate in a gender grab. It still is, as she now has national spotlight and is calling on the media for having more scrutiny on her than Caroline Kennedy. I actually feel sympathy for her, now that she is not at the healm of the second hand. She's not going quietly, and I don't fault her for that. However, blaming the media for not being as tough on Caroline Kennedy, who is vying for a senate seat, as opposed to the vice presidency of the nation, seems petty and grasping.Again, I don't blame Palin. I think it's telling of who she is and what she wants, which is simple. Something bigger than what she has. I'm reminded how relieved that she didn't win the election.Because the world is fucked right now, and I'm so relieved to have both Obama and Clinton to make the decisions that need to be made. I hope I keep agreeing with them.

None of this has anything to do with art.

I've been making some.

I've been working on the CD art for the upcoming Striding Lion album...The first is the wingspan for the interior of the CD case

Next is the cover-collage is clearly the deal here

And my thesis is still coming along. The title is "Loss is Expected" and focuses on that uncomfortable/euphoric time of transition that leads all of us to our next step, no matter how ambiguous or succinct it may be. My inspiration spans a few years and a couple cities. I've designed it as a walk-in pinball machine/photo booth/journal of experiences. It's an extremely personal piece, but much of that personal exploration has been found in a public aesthetic, so it makes sense in an awkward, weird and accessible vein...at least that's the plan. We will see how it goes

Thesis, hauntings, Alison Knowles, Oh MY!

Another day, another presidential debate. I wonder if Joe Six Pack and Joe Plumber know each other. I hope that Joe Plumber has a six-pack, and that Joe Six Pack has a plumber. Do they know how famous they are?

Anyway, neck deep in the initial stages of thesis in preparation for the departmental critique at Columbia on Tuesday, I've found myself in the frantic territory of detailing a work specifically enough to get approved, but ambiguous enough to allow the evolution of process that is intended for this piece. In the meantime, I've become a city hermit, spending my time in my studio, in class, tending bar, trolling museums, and scaring folks at The Silent Theatre's Haunted Sanitarium. It's silly and fun, and I forgot how much I enjoy working with make-up. I wish my face enjoyed it, as well. Alas...

I'm not going to get into too much detail on my thesis, as it is evolving in its very early stages. The initial working title was "Transient;what it means to move on," which turned into, "Transition and moving again" and continues to change. At this point, it is an installation piece combining waiting rooms, photobooths, pinball machines and the rate of motion in personal and political strife. I'm still on the fence about putting a performative element into it. I'm kind of obsessed with having the installation full of objects that can be activated, or not.

I'll have a better idea after my workshop weekend with Alison Knowles, kicking off on Halloween. So excited.So, so, so excited. I have also been reading "Fantastic Reality- Louise Bourgeois and a story of modern art," finally out in paperback.

In between articulation of my thesis, and everything else, I've really found solace in my studio, and have picked up some layers on a few paintings that have been begging for attention. In this space of reflection, consternation and some difficult remembrances, it feels good to have accomplished these layers.

Here they are!

1) Atmosphere is everything-Oil on Canvas

2) Judge, Jury and everything lost-oil on canvas

3) Lakeshore at night- acrylic on canvas

3)Vanity Box-Acrylic, US Weekly, and Resin on wooden box

Now back to banging my proverbial head on the keyboard...

Connected Images '08

The most influential, and frightening, course of my graduate study has been Connected Images(art camp!). During the last week of June and the first week of July, the Interdisciplinary Arts department began a retreat in La Porte, Indiana on the La Lumiere boarding school grounds. Prior to arrival, we were sent a rather cryptic tome of readings and general instructions, dealing with this year's theme, "In Real Time." On the first day, we were given marshmallows, sugar, honey and a swath of text with the instruction to create an "object" using these elements, and to build a site specific work.
The site I chose was quickly dubbed "Poop Island" due to the excrement of the many geese. I was attracted less by the poop, and more by the two-plank bridge that crossed onto the island, and the empty cross structure that had clearly, at one point, help a sign that was now missing, deeming it the only untitled island on the lake. Poop-ridden or not, it needed some love! I created a path of "marshmallows on sticks," leading from the mainland onto the little island, where my object hung. On each marshmallow, I had written a word, taken from the free-write response of text given, and had created a path of sugar and honey along the way(once on the island) hoping that it would create a path of ants to devour the sweet stuff. Turns out, ants don't dig poop island, either. Two days later, when our challenge was to create something out of the dissipation of our original project... mine was the only one completely intact...I took everyone on a tour, plucking the marshmallow on sticks, sans ants, from the ground, and leaving those with ants alone, pointing and proclaiming "That's alive". Once facing my object, I activated it as a dartboard with the "non-living" marshmallow skewers and sharpened sticks. I invited the tour to play, and left the space, to watch from the outer bank.

The next task was to form our original pieces into another form. I tend to play with the form and structure of text and communication, which probably comes from making sense of any and all text as an actor. I took my original free-write and forme a palindrome poem of sorts, with a tone from one end, that turns around and changes from the reverse direction. I wrote the poem in chalk on trees, creating another path in the wooded section of campus.

This led to a personal exploration of site specific work. After the tree poem was written, I felt there was not much more to do. So, I considered my work with text, path and layers, and chose the baseball diamond in which to get a bit more personal to involve the space I was accessing, outside of the city, among artists. I channeled the focus and playful atmosphere of one of my first favorite places.I created a tour, while physicalizing playing the game.I made the based for 1st-3rd, filled with different materials:1st-pine needles 2nd-pine cones 3rd-rocks
text:
This is a path of gravel stone and sand
asphalt grass and shit
I'm leading as you follow me
to the next mark.
This is a mark of chalk,charcoal and tobacco
the beginning of a cycle
of running circles around a diamond
until the game is won.
This is a game made of marks
and back and forth
running to catch safety
with the challenge to get ahead.
This is the challenge of ripping hair and breaking words
sliding in and tagging out
hoping to steal within the rules.
This is the rule of panic and belief
Taste your impending victory
despite the fear of going home
or getting out
This is the fear in the strategy of waiting:
Watching the path, unable to run.
Step back from the path, and away from the game
of catching flies and stealing seconds
See the history of triumphant victories and staggering losses
as what it is.
A simple path.
Trodden,
lonely,
and covered in clover