Found Art – Page 13

Accidental Art

December 31, 2013 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) Drywall prep in NYC cafeteria renovation

It’s simply about being aware… conscious, open.

While surveying a corporate bank client’s new cafeteria construction site in a Manhattan high-rise last month, I stumbled onto this gorgeous green wall (above). I fell in love — with the color, the haphazard strokes of paint, and the funky protruding electrical cables. It reminded me of Franz Kline’s work (normally in black and white) – at a fraction of the cost. The funny thing was – I kept hearing managers asking contractors about the space, “when will this be done?”

I chuckled to myself – because I felt it WAS done. In its current state, this stretch of drywall has all the elements of a Rauschenberg combine: loose, wide brushstrokes, a sweet sense of negative space, and 3D objects adding intrigue and dimension.

The saddest thing is – this underground masterpiece will never be seen by anyone – but you, right here. I just heard that construction on the eco-friendly cafeteria is completed, and employees and customers will now only see what they’re supposed to see: perfection.

(Pic #2) And then there was one: Lonely work glove expresses “tude.”Photo by Josh Kaplan.

In my corporate creativity workshops, I always stress the importance of really SEEING what’s around you. Sometimes that means looking down. Way down. Case in point – the parking lot surprise above (Pic #2) left by someone in a hurry. Lying viagra flat on the asphalt – in a classic F-YOU pose, this work glove emerged as a striking road sculpture in the middle of an Encino strip mall. We did not stage the extension of the middle finger – it apparently ended up that way after hundreds of drive-overs and thousands of pounds of crushing pressure from speeding SUVs.

One of the true tests of whether something is “successful” art is its ability to engage. The abandoned glove had us speculating over lunch for an hour. Did my husband really just point-and shoot? Or did he “arrange” the piece in a bogus bird-flipping position? If he did just “capture” the art as it was – how did the glove land smack in the middle of a perfect light source? The answers are simple: it was a glorious happy accident.

(Pic #3) A section of a weathered window decal at my dry cleaners.

Sometimes, while waiting on line somewhere, I’ll fixate on something mundane – like my cleaners’ neglected storefront window. (Pic #3) Weathered and cracked, its sign “Murre” has become unreadable. But it manages to give us something else: a stunning abstraction in emerald and grey.

I encourage you to look around your world and find the beauty – no matter how ordinary your path. Those little visual treats are just waiting for us to notice.

The Artist’s Intention: WTF?

November 30, 2013 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1): The Lardner-Kaplan niche (top)

Guest post by Josh Kaplan
One of the best things about art, in fact maybe my favorite thing, is that it’s the one place where you can make a statement, and never have to explain, justify, or back it up.

Here’s an example: an installation at our house, above our garage – where you find an arched niche. This is an architectural accent found in Spanish-style homes and in Catholic Churches dating back to the 12th Century. They are recessed portals designed to give emphasis and protection to the saints or statues on display inside. As you can see, that place of honor at our house is now occupied by a Gumby figurine.

What does it mean?

Well, Lonnie was raised Catholic, and went to Catholic school, but as she grew older she had many unanswered questions about organized religion. It also began to bother her how quickly and thoughtlessly we bestow our worship on things and people who don’t really deserve it. So this is a piece questioning the dogma of religion, and the superficial entities we raise to the level of deity. Except. — I’m lying. I just made that up. Lonnie’s art doesn’t tend to be that philosophical.

When we bought the house, it felt to Lonnie like the last stage of becoming a grownup. The responsibility seemed overwhelming. So the Gumby represented her inner child’s last desperate grab for a piece of her consciousness.

OK – that’s cipro B.S. too.

What’s the point? If either of those stories had been true, and Lonnie had shared them, they would have fundamentally changed your perception of the art. To me, the really transformative thing about art is that it can touch something deep inside you, but that something is different in everyone. It shouldn’t be dictated by the artist.

OK – you have been patient, so here is the real story. When Lonnie turned 7, her mother bought her a Gumby doll, and she loved it the way only an 7-year-old can. Well that summer, she was tossing Gumby in the air, and he landed on the window ledge on the third floor of her junior high school. Gone forever. She was wrecked.

She told me that story a few years ago, and so I bought her a new Gumby, just to make her smile. Then I velcroed his feet onto the bottom of that empty alcove so she would see it when she pulled in the driveway every day. See, it wasn’t artwork at all, just a private gesture from me, to her.

That is, until last weekend – when a stopped-up drain prompted a call to a plumber. Johnnie arrived a couple hours later, knocked on the door, and before even introducing himself, he said, “Hey, before we get started — I gotta tell you — I am really digging the Gumby.”

Now that’s art.

Today’s Pic: NYC Curbside Masterpiece

June 10, 2013 by Lonnie Lardner

Watch where you’re walking – art underfoot.

Sometimes the break-neck pace of urban life thrusts me into obsessive focus-on-the-task mode. Head down. Beat the crowd. Find a seat on the subway. Fight the dude hailing your cab. Make the 7:20 for Garden City. And, along the way – find a restroom that doesn’t completely gross you out.

Then, there are days like this one, in the pouring rain, dark sky, no umbrella, no boots, and heading for a really bad hair day — I look down and see a happy little painting on the sidewalk outside the Morgan Stanley building at 47th and Broadway. I have no idea how all those colors landed on the street. But I loved the combination, and especially adderal appreciated the yellow “accents” spray-painted by someone I surmised worked for the city water dept.

(Pic #2) Abstract painting by Gerhard Richter.

No one seemed to notice – but it stopped me in my tracks. I grabbed a shot in the downpour. The periwinkles, lilacs, and blues let me know all was right with the world. Oddly, the “accidental” art reminded me of the work of master German abstract painter Gerhard Richter (Pic #2, left) — an artist who works and re-works his canvas until it resembles nothing like his starting point.

I am reminded that art can also happen in an instant — it’s there for the viewing — if only we allow it to emerge.