I have absolute proof of it, right here.
Let me tell you a secret about Cornish students -- the large lot of them are unreferenced genius savants. This isn't to say there isn't talent, they aren't artists, or that the students are unlearned. No, not at all. However, they are incredibly lucky. Very lucky.
As I walked around with Carolyn of Dangerous Chunky, we alternately gasped in glee and groaned in disappointment. So much potential -- but as we walked we agreed that this is exactly the kind of show it should be. An exhibition of potential. After all, these small green artists are newly forged, bright eyed with hopes and ideas, and unjaded. They haven't yet learned to not take risks. And risks they do take, no matter how monumental. You can walk through and identify which choices are the last minute panic of indecision.
Let me get back to the idea of the genius savant.
The Cornish 2008 BFA Exhibition was aesthetically strong and immediately impactful. I thought, "I like." But it was also heavily laced with hipster-chic and unintentional references. Ms. Zick and I walked around and identified Walter de Maria, Eva Hesse, Alexander Calder, Janine Antoni, and most unfortuately too closely in once piece, Seattle's own Samantha Scherer. Also too close to home was one keenly familiar wire sculptor who was clearly influenced by Casey Curran -- to his credit and to be fair, I spoke with Casey and he had given the young apprentice his blessing. Even still, the purpose of imitation is to take further, not recreate.
But for all these art historical references in the student's work, I would be surprised to the core if most of them knew who they were talking about. Having attended a year and a half at Cornish, I'm familiar with the insular bubble this particular institution creates -- and generally, many of these kids are weirdly both part of the art world and not. They are each of them products of the elitism of academia and outsider artists on their own, left to run wild with no ground to quell the current. A history book, rather than a small sketchpad at the graduation ceremony would be a more relevant parting gift. Go forth and change history, rather than blindly recreate it.
I'm running out of time this morning, but come Monday I will talk more about the necessity for intentional art historical references, and I will post more about my experience at the exhibition, complete with epic commentary regarding angst-ridden weird-because-we-move-real-slow and we-have-vaginas female performance art.
For now, a preview:
And because I know you're wondering, my absolute favourite is still this sweet installation by student Claude Andrew (my long lost automaton army):
Alone In A Crowd, 20' × 20' × 12' (variable)
