UbuWeb

UbuWeb is one of those sites that represents all that is good about the Internet, and is an absolute must for anyone purporting to have an interest in contemporary creativity. Where else could you listen to Marcel Duchamp giving a talk on the creative process in 1957, or hear Hans Arp reading his own poetry, or watch Pina Bausch dance, or listen to Brain Eno's recordings in the mid-70s, or watch Paul McCarthy's video experiments? Below, the FAQ's from UbuWeb explain what it is about...

When did UbuWeb Start?
UbuWeb was founded in November of 1996, initially as a repository for visual, concrete and, later, sound poetry. Over the years, UbuWeb has embraced all forms of the avant-garde and beyond. Its parameters continue to expand in all directions.

How is UbuWeb funded?
UbuWeb has no need for funding. All work is done solely on a volunteer basis. Our only cost is our monthly hosting fee, which amounts to US$50 each month.

Can I get involved?
Yes. UbuWeb is built by many hands and we are always in need of digitizers, both audio and textual. Drop us a line if you are interested and capable.

Can I use something posted on UbuWeb on my site, in a paper, in a project, etc.?
Sure. We post many things without permission; we also post many with things with permission. We therefore give you permission to take what you like even though in many cases, we have not received permission to post it. We went ahead and did it anyway. You should too.

How do I purchase something from your site?
You can't. Nothing is for sale on UbuWeb. It's all free. We know it's a hard idea to get used to, but there's no lush gift shop waiting for you at the end of this museum.

What is your policy concerning posting copyrighted material?
If it's out of print, we feel it's fair game. Or if something is in print, yet absurdly priced or insanely hard to procure, we'll take a chance on it. But if it's in print and available to all, we won't touch it. The last thing we'd want to do is to take the meager amount of money out of the pockets of those releasing generally poorly-selling materials of the avant-garde. UbuWeb functions as a distribution center for hard-to-find, out-of-print and obscure materials, transferred digitally to the web. Our scanning, say, an historical concrete poem in no way detracts from the physical value of that object in the real world; in fact, it probably enhances it. Either way, we don't care: Ebay is full of wonderful physical artifacts, most of them worth a lot of money.

Should something return to print, we will remove it from our site immediately. Also, should an artist find their material posted on UbuWeb without permission and wants it removed, please let us know. However, most of the time, we find artists are thrilled to find their work cared for and displayed in a sympathetic context. As always, we welcome more work from existing artists on site.

Let's face it, if we had to get permission from everyone on UbuWeb, there would be no UbuWeb.

How do I download MP3s?
There are thousands of resources on the web to learn how to do this. That's not what we're here for.

I only have RealPlayer. How come you mostly have MP3s?
MP3s are almost open source. RealMedia is proprietary. We'll always choose open source over proprietary. In the beginning, we streamed RealMedia because that's all there was. The few Real files on site are leftover from those days. We'll be getting rid of them as soon as we can. In the meantime, should Ogg Vorbis or some other truly open source media grow popular enough, we'll migrate to that.

Are you affiliated with a university?
No. UbuWeb is a completely independent site. However, several universities and partners have generously offered us server space and bandwith, with no restrictions or input regarding our content. We have gratefully accepted their offers.

Why are your pages in English? / Why are your pages not in English?
Most of our pages are in English; several of them are not. UbuWeb is accessed universally, hence much of our content is in several languages (the Jean-Luc Godard interview with Serge Daney, for example, is in French). We encourage more multi-linguistic material. If you speak a language other than English and are interested in translating some of our pages or content into your language, we'd be thrilled to post your efforts.

Who are you?
See our masthead, our board of directors, and our partners.

Where are you located?
Our editors are pretty much spread across the United States: New York City, Utah, California, Seattle, etc. You can contact us here.

Why don't you respond to my emails?
Due to the volume of email we receive, we unfortunately cannot respond to them all.

I'm interested in advertising on UbuWeb. How do I go about this?
You don't. UbuWeb is completely commercial-free and it will always stay that way.

Why isn't new content posted every day?
UbuWeb is an archive, not a blog. It has accumulated slowly and steadily and shall continue to far into the future.

I'd like to receive notices of UbuWeb updates. How do I do this?
UbuWeb refuses to advertise or promote itself. Most of all, we detest the idea of filling inboxes with more unwanted material. A few times a year, we post our updates to select mailing lists; that's what they're for, aren't they? For UbuWeb updates, best to just keep checking back on the homepage, where notices of all new content appears.

Do you have an UbuWeb listserve?
Yes, but it's private.

What system do you design UbuWeb on? What browser is UbuWeb optimized for?
We are diehard Mac devotees. We love Firefox.

What is your philosophy?
See our manifesto.

Why is there no Alfred Jarry on UbuWeb?
;)

What happened to the image of the nude woman at the top of the Artist Index page?
Too many people complained that it was offensive, so we removed it and replaced it instead with another Wallace Berman image that we like just as much. It's from the cover of his seminal magazine from the 1960's Semina. As ever, UbuWeb runs off the fumes of Wallace Berman.


Why won't you look at my MySpace page?
It's ugly, crowded, filled with ads, blares music at you, and nine times out of ten, crashes our browser. Really, it's the polar opposite of UbuWeb. Just as in meatspace there are certain streets you never walk down, so in cyberspace, we assidiously avoid the MySpace mall. No ifs ands or buts. Sorry.

What Patrick Hutchings taught me about art...

Many years ago I started studying for a long distance degree in visual arts through Deakin University. I started off with a bang, getting a higher distinction for my first assignment on the emergence of realism in Renaissance art, then stumbled while trying to find a symbolism that wasn't there in 17C Dutch still life, and finally crashed into boredom with British landscape painting before deciding that the academic path was not for me.

Part of the deal was to attend a study tour at the National Gallery of Victoria where we got to meet our tutor, whose name I am embarrassed to say I have forgotten. I do remember that she had shapely legs, wore seamed stockings and high heels, and to follow her around the hallowed halls of this great gallery discussing the collection was indeed a pleasure.

Patrick Hutchings, teacher, author, critic, and one of the grand old men of Australian art, had recently retired from Deakin, but he did condescend to grace us with his presence on one of these tours. His knowledge of, and insight into art was profoundly illuminating. He was also a very entertaining lecturer whose passion for his subject often increased as the audience grew. On one occasion he began a dialogue in front of Picasso's Weeping Woman. Our group of six rapidly grew to about thirty members of the public as he shared his knowledge, finishing with spontaneous applause from an enlightened crowd.

We were wandering through the modern European collection when we passed the only Cezanne. He said, "Of course, this is not a very good Cezanne". Now I have never been a big fan of Cezanne, so I somewhat cynically asked, "How do you tell a good Cezanne from a bad Cezanne?". He turned to me smiling, and said, "Bob, by looking at lots of Cezannes".

Surrealism - Part Two

The Grand Master - Luis Bunuel

After my revelatory discussions with Dusan Marek, who had taught me that Surrealism was more a way of life than an art movement, and my meeting with Denys Finney, who had opened the possibility of me becoming an artist, I started to study my new interest with passion. Influential books were:

• Dada: art and anti-art by Hans Richter
• The History of Surrealist Painting by Marcel Jean
• Diary of a Genius by Salvador Dali
• Surrealism by Herbert Read
• Selected Poems and Nadja by Andre Breton
• Surrealists on Art ed. by Lucy Lippard
• The Road to the Absolute by Anna Balakian
• Dialogues with Marcel Duchamp by Pierre Cabanne

But the person who (for me) galvanised the essence of surrealism was Luis Bunuel, in my opinion the most compleat surrealist of all. The first Bunuel film I saw was Viridiana. The effect of this I can only liken to a Buddhist achieving enlightenment. And the story of it's making, and subsequent release, is as surreal as the film itself.

Fernando Rey and Sylvia Pinal in Viridiana 1961

The story is purely de Sadeian in concept, and could have (like de Sade's Justine) been subtitled The folly of virtue. But where the Divine Marquis attempts to shock with his pornography, Bunuel shocks with subversive ideas, and it is this that makes the film so dangerous. Bunuel said, 'What I am aiming to do in my films is to disturb people and destroy the rules of a kind of conformism that wants everyone to think that they are living in the best of all possible worlds'. In Viridiana he takes a swipe at just about everything, from religion to society, moral standards, obsession, class divisions, innocence and trust. In Viridiana there are no winners...everyone loses eventually. I watch Bunuel not to be entertained, but to learn...

Bunuel had returned to Spain from a 25 year self-imposed exile in Mexico to make this film. The script had been submitted to the Government censors who took umbrage with the closing scene, and Bunuel modified it accordingly. Why they allowed the rest of the script is still a mystery. Bunuel shot the film in his usual economic, to the point, often just one take style. The negatives were smuggled into France and the film premiered at the 1961 Cannes Film Festival as Spain's official entry where it was awarded the Palme d'Or and received a 7 minute standing ovation. It was promptly banned by the Franco government in Spain and blacklisted by the Vatican as 'sacreligious and blasphematory'. I suspect that Bunuel was as honored by this response as he was in receiving the Golden Palm. The master had struck again...

Love Glove

Bob Georgeson, Love Glove, 2010, Photomontage

The Love Glove story is one of those little mysteries in ones art career...despite all intentions the point is lost. I had originally done this as a homage to Hannah Hoch, founding member of the Berlin Dada protest, the undisputed queen of photomontage, and in my opinion one of the most under-rated artists of the 20th Century. At the time I had been working on the Brides of Christ series, and as a result it sat in my folder somewhat unrelated to that theme.

Around the same time a local art group was planning an exhibition called 'Beyond the Edge - Towards Postmodernism'. Well, these cliches were enough to ruffle my feathers, so I quickly joined the group and submitted this work as a protest to all the wanky jargon that to my mind was destroying contemporary art. I thought that what is essentially an image of a masturbating man might create a stir among the plethora of artists whose subject matter often revolved around gum trees and coastal rock textures, and seriously expected to be rejected. An artists statement was also required so I culled phrases from the first International Dada Fair held in Berlin in 1920. Phrases like: 'Dada is the deliberate subversion of bourgeois values.'

The exhibition had also been organised as a competition within the group. $1000 to the artist who best addressed the theme of the show, to be judged by a gallery owner from outside the immediate area. Guess who won? I shook my head as I accepted the cheque...now that's postmodernism for you! I give up...

Worlds in Collision

Worlds in Collision is a project I have been working on this year. I have been photographing and videoing images and segments from foreign language (well, at least foreign to me) TV news services from Serbia, Croatia and Macedonia. I have a fascination with this part of the world that seems to have had more than its fair share of troubles, whether it be from invaders like the Mongols or Crusaders, or internal conflicts between neighbouring peoples. 

This is the first of my video experiments that I am reasonably happy with. I had originally conceived a more menacing soundtrack, but I never tire of listening to Herbie, and it just happened to fit the length of the timeline...

Alleyway

Part 3 of Bega deconstructed...Auckland Street...July 2012...

Bob Georgeson, Alleyway, 2012, Digital photograph

Winter swells

At Camel Rock...

Ecstasy

Part two of the Bega deconstructed project...

Bob Georgeson, Ecstasy, 2012, Video projection, Woolworth's complex, Bega.

The Pearls

Bob Georgeson, The Pearls, 2009, Photomontage

Bega deconstructed

They say that Bega will be transformed when the new bypass is completed, but for many local residents they might have wished that they could have bypassed this town forever. 'I've had a Bega of a day' is instantly understood as meaning NOT GOOD. However, as the largest centre of the Far South Coast it's facilities such as the hospital, local government and shops make it impossible to ignore. There are little treasures amongst the architectural monstrosities. The Historical Society's museum, Candelo Books, the Regional and Spiral Art Galleries, the Anglican Church are small cultural havens that contrast with the arguing couples outside the Centrelink offices, or the bunch of colourful characters that sit at Gloria Jeans Coffee Shop. A visit to Bega makes one realise how fortunate ones life has been...

So, I have decided to deconstruct Bega with a view to eventually using it's vagaries for public art projects. I am indebted to Craig Cameron for sparking this project with his original idea of using vacant shops as art spaces...

Bob Georgeson, Undercover Parking, 2012, Installation view, Woolworth's complex, Auckland St, Bega.

road TRIP

The third in my series of experimental films...

...a warning for my overseas readers: Australia really looks like this!

...and, as I am still learning all this stuff any feedback on technical issues, file sizes, file formats, video and sound quality etc. would be appreciated...

Orgasm

for Max Ernst...

Bob Georgeson, Orgasm, 2009, Photomontage

Contemporary Australia: Women

No problems with taking photographs at Brisbane's Gallery of Modern Art! Unlike the rather tired looking National Gallery in Canberra this institution has a vibrancy and excitement about it that is perhaps only rivalled by Hobart's MONA. And what a knockout exhibition within it's two giant display spaces. Here the artists are given ample room to produce site specific works, and let fly they do! Ones faith in the future of art is restored. Superbly curated by Julie Ewington the new breed (with a few old faces thrown in) of Oz women artists strut their stuff in a powerful show that demonstrates that contemporary art can be intelligent, fun, dynamic and accessible. And still deal with feminist issues. It's a big call, but why do I feel that women are leading the way in art at the moment? Well, unlike the blokes, they mostly avoid the wank factor...and nice touches like the explanations for kids about the works, thoughtfully hung at kid height, add to the embracing of humanity and the desire to promote art. No need to say more...let the pics do the talking...

Judith Wright, A wake, 2011, Mixed media installation.

Deborah Kelly, The Miracles, 2012, (detail), photographs

Deborah Kelly, The Miracles, 2012, photographs

Sandra Selig, prisms remember you, 2012, Spun polyester threads, nails, paint.

Justine Khamara, Watch me slip through these thin sheets, 2011, Mirrored panels, printed fabric.

Justene Williams, Your beat my scenic personality of space, 2010, Multi-screen video installation.

Airport

Bob Georgeson, Airport, 2012, Triptych, Digital photography.

unDisclosed: 2nd National Indigenous Art Triennial

"No photos, no photos" the guard yells at me as she runs across the gallery. Oops...the digi camera slips back into my pocket. I had only just entered the temporary exhibitions area of the National Gallery of Australia when confronted by this encounter. It struck me later that it was, in a way, a fitting metaphor for dealing with this exhibition. Even though I live in an area that has thousands of years of Aboriginal habitation, and at the foot of the sacred mother mountain Gulaga, relating to what it is like to be Aboriginal is beyond me. I can sympathise, say I am sorry, wish for solutions, crave for justice, but at the end of the day I cannot 'feel' the anger, resentment and frustration of being born black in Australia.

Lorraine Connelly-Northey, 2010, Three Rivers Country, Corrugated iron, tin, mesh and wire, Museum of Contemporary Art.

And, as a result, much of the work in this exhibition is political, or at least, a 'statement'. And where it isn't, one is faced with the issue of the more 'traditional' interpretations being seen, and bought, by whites as 'abstract expressionism'. Confused? I certainly am...

Michael Cook, Broken Dreams, 2010, Digital colour photographs, NGA Canberra.

However, the fact that Indigenous art can now be successfully contemporary, and shown in the hallowed halls of this institution, is a good thing. And while the political confrontation of Vernon Ah Kee's tall man (about the tragic death of a young man on Palm Island) or the 'in your face' shock value of  Tony Albert's Pay Attention Mother Fuckers leave me wondering whether this is in fact 'art', other works by Lorraine Connelly-Northey and Michael Cook still get the message across while amazing with their conceptual brilliance and execution. My final comment is that its a pity it is only to be held every three years...

Shinju

Bob Georgeson, Shinju, 2005, Musical jewel box, pearls, chopsticks, lace, photos.

In my study of erotica one of the more bizarre sexual practices I have come across is the so-called Japanese 'art' of rope bondage known as kinbaku. I am not going to condone or explain it...Google it if you are interested in such things. Shinju is the Japanese word for pearl, but also refers to a particular form of binding of a particular part of the female anatomy...you can figure out the rest...

Cultural conflict

Spotted in the temple of consumerism in the Nation's capital last week...

It's a worry. Meanwhile a few blocks away outside the School of Art...

All aboard!

Hot chocolate!

Our European correspondents returned from a recent jolly, spotting these delicacies in Bruges, Belgium along the way...

While perhaps lacking the aphrodisiac subtlety of mussels in white wine, steamed artichoke with vinaigrette or freshly stewed figs with ice cream, they are still an inviting example of the confectioners creativity...

The Temptation of Saint Anthony

"Go out and see" Saint Anthony is reported to have said. It might be a useful lesson for art teachers to impart to their students, and the story of this ascetic and his trials in the desert has been a favourite of artists for centuries. On one hand a vehicle for the depiction of the triumph of piety over evil, on the other for the temptations of the flesh in the form of phantom women. Saint Anthony was an Egyptian Coptic but I have never come across a work that shows him as middle-eastern in appearance, and the phantoms are invariably Caucasian as well. Mmmm...he thinks...I have just given myself an idea! Maybe I should forget this blogging rubbish and get busy on the 'real' Anthony with some Nubian goddesses in the bomb shelled Libyan desert...

But before I do, some of my favourites...we begin with Paolo Veronese...

Paolo Veronese, Temptation of St Anthony, 1552-3, Oil on canvas, Musee des Beaux-Arts, Caen

An interesting comparison with the earlier work on paper below. From the fairly 'mainstream' Renaissance style he has gone straight for the jugular (so to speak) in this Mannerist masterpiece of chiaroscuro and composition. Anthony is about to get pounded with the hoof of a goat while the female figure claws his palm with her nails while languorously dangling an exposed breast over his eyes as demonic figures lurk in the background. It's almost like Saturday night at the Wyndham pub...

Paolo Veronese, Temptation of St Anthony, 1552, Pen and chalk on paper, Musee du Louvre, Paris

Felicien Rops says of his version: " Here is more or less what I wanted Satan to say to the good Anthony. I want to show you that you are mad Anthony, to worship your abstractions! That your eyes may no longer search in the blue depths for the face of Christ, nor for incorporeal virgins! Your Gods have followed those of Olympus. But Jupiter and Jesus did not carry off eternal Wisdom, nor Venus and Mary eternal Beauty! Even if the Gods are gone, Woman remains. The love of Woman remains and with it the abounding love of Life."

Felicien Rops, Temptation of St Anthony, 1878, Etching and aquatint, Felician Rops Museum, Namur, Belgium.

Here, an almost comic Satan displaces Christ from the crucifix, and replaces him with a engaging nude. Rops nearly always laces his eroticism with a generous dose of humour. The normal INRI at the top of the cross has been turned into EROS. Perhaps Saint Anthony is more horrified of Rop's imagination than he is of the elements that make up the picture? It is interesting to see the preparatory drawing for the female figure, and the change that has occurred in the final print. I like the shroud ringing the breasts, and the garter and black stay ups are always a nice touch...

Felicien Rops, study for Temptation of St Anthony, 1878, Etching, Felician Rops Museum, Namur, Belgium.

Max Ernst takes a different tack and looks at the second of Saint Anthony's temptations where he was attacked by visions of demons. Influenced by the extremes of Matthius Grunewald and Hieronymus Bosch his hallucinatory vision allows for some of his favourite motifs to appear. Painted in 1945 it reflects on the horrors of war. A good reason not to venture into the desert alone...

Max Ernst, Temptation of St Anthony, 1945, Oil on canvas, Wilhelm-Lehmbruck Museum, Duisberg, Germany

...plus my own humble version (with apologies to Nan Goldin for the appropriation of the blonde). It just fitted perfectly! Almost got the Coptic bit right though...

Bob Georgeson, Temptation of St Anthony. 2010, Photomontage

MONA

David Walsh, the creator of Hobart's Museum of Old and New Art, describes it as "a subversive adult Disneyland". It certainly is an experience unlike any other gallery in Australia. No expense spared in its creation it mixes antiquities with a who's who of the global contemporary art scene, and particularly those artists who work outside the traditional formula. Even getting there is unique. Embarking on the MONA catamaran at Hobart's Sullivan's Cove for the twenty minute journey up the Derwent River, we arrive on a typically beautiful late autumn morning...umbrellas thoughtfully supplied...

The architecture is stunning. Carved into a sandstone point the three levels of the Museum sit on a structure of high tech steel with the sandstone left exposed. The effect is like being in an ancient temple with James Bondian trimmings. The architecture has been determined by the need to accommodate Sidney Nolan's Snake, a massive work comprised of 1,620 A4 sheets...

Sidney Nolan, Snake, 1970-72, Mixed media on paper.

Equipped with our iPods we begin to explore...the 'app' sensing what artwork you are viewing and supplying information as to its title and creator. Artworks are given luxurious amounts of space in which to exist. For example Anselm Keifer's Sternenfall/Shevirath Ha Kelim is afforded it's own purpose built room...

Anselm Keifer, Sternenfall/Shevirath Ha Kelim, 2007, Lead and glass.

One of my favourite pieces is Callum Morton's Babylonia. The large rock like structure with light emanating from a mystery source that when discovered and entered takes you into an intriguing spatial illusion appealed to my sense of mystery and the unexpected encounter.

Callum Morton, Babylonia, 2005, Mixed media.

Inside Babylonia

The antiquities sit a little uncomfortably with the mostly large scale of modern works, but Walsh has a discerning eye and has selected his collection with purpose, often relating to his overall interest in sex and death. And it is this theme that pervades wherever one goes. One could argue that a collection based on the whims of one man lacks a certain intellectual diversity that older cultural institutions have built up over time and with changing personnel. But Walsh is no fool. He knows his stuff, he thinks about what he is doing, and is prepared to take risks to share his vision.

At times this is uncomfortable. For example Wim Delvoye's tattooed pig skin is at first a striking object, but when one reads about the pig being tattooed while alive then slaughtered and tanned in China (because that's probably the only place that would do it) one questions not only ethics but whether process has become the art, rather than process becoming the means to the end.

Wim Delvoye, Untitled (Osama), 2002-3, Tattoed pigskin.

It is Walsh's embracing of video art that is perhaps MONA's greatest strength. Judiciously placed throughout the museum as well as in it's own cinema, this medium displays an interest to the audience that is often lost when shown in isolated context. One of my favourites is Paul McCarthy's Painter, a film that shows that art can not only be funny, but hilarious. His piss take of the art scene is a laugh a minute comedy of all that is wrong with contemporary art, and should be on the curriculum of every art school in the country. A master piece...

Paul McCarthy, Painter, 1995, Video still.

The overall effect of MONA is one that mixes confrontation with beauty and accessibility to art that is largely ignored in the traditional institutions. And it is this accessibility that is MONA's strength. The public is invited (and encouraged) to engage with art, not be alienated by it. Walsh has thrown the gauntlet down. He is to be commended...

Blood of Medusa

Bob Georgeson, Blood of Medusa, 2012, Digital photo.

Bit of a lull in posts this week as the artistry of mother nature takes centre stage. Violent storms and huge swells make art and ideas seem somewhat irrelevant. And how invigorating it is for the soul to be at close hand on a deserted beach where the sound of wind and surf make conversation pointless (maybe it always is!). Occasionally coral is found after such storms. Reminded me of an earlier post about its origins in the story of Perseus and Andromeda from Ovid's Metamorphoses. Even though there are spectacular rocks where I live Andromeda was nowhere to be found. I will keep looking...

Lips

Another older work, can't even remember when...

Bob Georgeson, Lips, Photomontage, Private collection.

Self Administering Surrealistic Sex Machine

Bob Georgeson, Self Administering Surrealistic Sex Machine, 2007, Photomontage

I don't know if it's old age, but I was going through a cupboard the other day, and had forgot I had even made this piece. Cynics might say it's a pity you remembered at all...

Surrealism

Dusan Marek, Title unknown, 1962, Oil on aluminium, Private collection.

I cannot remember the first time I encountered surrealism or the first time I saw a surrealist painting, but I can remember in the heady stoned days of the late sixties it was hard to enter a hippy pad anywhere without seeing a Dali or Magritte poster along side of Hendrix or The Doors. The word 'surreal' was often used to describe anything that was out of the ordinary. 'Wow, that sunsets surreal man!'

I had probably seen surrealist, or 'in the style of' surrealist painting at the Art Gallery of South Australia without realising it's context. In those days there were a number of Australian artists in public collections that had been affected by the movement. Artists such as Jeffrey Smart, Ivor Francis, Eric Thake, Jacqueline Hick and Stan Ostoja-Kotkowski had all been influenced by the 'revolution' in Europe, but few of them had made a long term commitment to the surrealist aesthetic. Even though I didn't know what the art was about, I often felt as if I knew the artists, felt like they were my friends.

About this time I had a job as a Numbers Porter with South Australian Railways. My job was to meet trains as they pulled into Adelaide Train Station and record the numbers on the carriages into a ledger. Why, I never knew. It wasn't like train carriages go missing very often, and I soon learnt that except for the two interstate trains the same carriages made the same journeys day after day, month after month, year after year. I would arrive at work, write all the numbers from the previous day in the ledger, which would take around ten minutes, and then settle down to sketch or read a book.

It was here that I noticed another numbers porter reading a book on film making. His name was Denys Finney, an aspiring film maker and art enthusiast. We quickly became friends and he showed me the path to how I could become an artist, something I had never thought feasible. We had passionate discussions about art and film, and about what constituted great art. He also introduced me to the world of the European film directors including Luis Bunuel, perhaps the most 'complete' surrealist of all.

I started to study the surrealists in more depth and found myself drawn to their vision. At that time my mother was working in one of the few commercial galleries in Adelaide, and had struck up a friendship with surrealist artist Dusan Marek, who's studio lay in the Adelaide Hills. She took me to visit him on two occasions and it was these meetings that have charted a course that I have followed ever since. Dusan was a Czech immigrant who had fled to Australia in 1948. He had decided to become a surrealist at 13 years old, and remained committed to the path throughout his life. He had also worked at the Railways and was very amused by my description of my job. He used it to teach me some valuable lessons about surrealism.

"Surrealism is not just an art movement. It is a way of life, a way of thinking, and a way of viewing the world. It is about discovering the marvellous in our existence. But most importantly it is about absolute freedom of thought and expression."  he said.

He was patient, not at all patronising and happy to teach me more about a subject that I was increasingly passionate about. A profound influence on my life...

The last time we met was shortly before he was to take up a teaching post in Tasmania. He said "Bob, we surrealists must stick together". He left the next day.

For the definitive essay on Dusan Marek click here...

Marilyn Monroe by Cecil Beaton

To commemorate Marilyn's birthday 1 June 1926. A truly great photograph shot at that split second where reality intersects with glamour. 

Marilyn Monroe by Cecil Beaton, New York, 1956

Descending nude

My second movie! Where's the red carpet? Oh well...look on the bright side, it's only a minute long, the soundtracks groovy and it does feature June Palmer...

...mmmm

Enough of the pontification! Who really cares about the state of art? Well, I do but I am not going to let it get in the way of my primary interests! After all, what can be more endearing than a beautiful derriere and seamed stockings? And I just love the look on his face...

Bob Georgeson, ...mmmm, 2010, Photomontage

Too many curators spoil the wrath

Raoul Hausmann, The Art Critic, 1919-20, Photomontage, The Tate, London.

Regular readers would already have noticed I have 'issues' with curators, and being curated. After 45 years of looking at, studying, thinking about, and occasionally making art, I think I have a pretty good idea what work of mine should be seen, how it should be presented, and to whom. Therefore I now blog where I have control over these factors. I don't need a curator. However these days it is hard to go anywhere in the art world without seeing the result of curatorial input. Do curators add value to the art experience, or are they stifling it?

I don't want to tar all curators with the same brush. There are curators who bring scholarship and innovation to the process. One example is Simon Gregg at the Gippsland Art Gallery, who in a recent exhibition Dreamweavers showed he could draw together diverse artists across continents and decades who might not have seen the links between their work, and present it all in an intelligent fashion. He also has the capacity to write about it in a way that is easily understood. (More about this show later).

I find I am not the only person considering the curatorial dilemma at the moment. How have we reached a stage where the curator is more important than the artist? And where one can do a curatorial course without having a prerequisite understanding and knowledge of art history? Well, certainly the arts organisations have not helped in their penchant for bringing in overseas curators, directors, conductors, principles, etc. at the expense of local talent. The grass is always greener syndrome. Only trouble is these people have to waste time learning who the local talent is, and then bow to corporate sponsorship which often results in treading a very conservative path and one that can exclude anyone outside the establishment scene.

In the latest issue of Broadsheet Contemporary Visual Art + Culture Vol 41.1, Brad Buckley and John Conomos (Associate Dean & Associate Professor at the Sydney College of the Arts) have written a polemic called 'The Delinquent Curator: or how curators shafted Australian art'. In it they say:

And yet who today, among our curators, is looking, and is not strictly governed by a non-risk taking, self -congratulatory and self-perpetuating ethic of more of the same? After all, looking should be one of the cardinal points of our compass of artistic creation, exhibition and understanding...

Sadly, what we have locally is a proliferation of curators who wish to be media circus stars and celebrities, and who are lost in the contemporary art scene's aesthetic of razzmatazz and the spectacle.

No wonder many artists today, myself included, are choosing to turn their backs on the traditional gallery, museum, it's who you know, brown-nosing, artist as performer scene and exhibit in public places where artistic integrity can be maintained. Curators take note...the white cube may be suddenly empty.

Big Day at Camel Rock

Bob Georgeson, Big Day at Camel Rock, 2010, Photomontage, Private Collection

Sometimes you have to remember your roots, and this work was inspired by my love of, and obsession with surfing (when I was young enough to get out there!). It is also an acknowledgement of honesty when it comes to big swells, new technologies and the 'philosophy' of surfing, a point maybe lost on today's young guns who sometimes forget in their desire to get aerial that there is a serenity and balance in functional surfing that has at its heart being 'at one' with the forces of nature.

However on this day who needs Pipe when the Rock is pumping perfect lefts at 4 metres?

The crowd watched as a lone knee boarder entered the water...

The Quarrymen

Bob Georgeson, The Quarrymen, 2012. Installation view, Eaglehawk Quarry, Bendigo, Victoria.

In interview discussing I Am The Walrus, John Lennon said he was writing nonsense lyrics in response to a teacher getting students to analyze the words to Beatles songs. He also commented on Bob Dylan's lyrics saying he "was getting away with murder" and added "I can write that crap too". Of course Lennon was following his already established tradition of montaging phrases from a  wide variety of sources.

I often look through art magazines, shake my head in wonderment, and think I can make that crap too...

...and for John Lennon's final word on Bob Dylan: after Bob had gone all Christian on us Lennon did his piss take on Gotta Serve Somebody, called Serve Yourself...John at his acerbic best...

World's problems solved!

Spotted in Bendigo...Jesus of Nazareth Mongolia! 

This revelation raises all kinds of issues...no longer do we have to put up with Christians fighting Jews, Christians fighting Muslims, Christians fighting Christians. Move Israel to Outer Mongolia, free Palestine in the process and move the Vatican to North Korea. All sorted. Yin and Yang...

Fashion victim

OK, enough of the wholesome 'girl next door' stuff, time to get back to what we are really interested in...

Bob Georgeson, tighter baby tighter, 2009, Photomontage

How come so much of women's fashion is about constriction? A curious feminist contradiction: fashion as erotic weapon or victims of a cruel joke? Who knows...but it even pervades the wedding ensemble...