wool + brick

The Cinematic Rape Scene

2011-03-21T00:18:00.007-04:00

I can’t say with certainty why dramatized rape scenes turn my stomach the way they do. As of this writing, I have not been a victim of rape. It is not for personal experience or personal connection that I often look away

for the duration of a rape scene. I look away because I find rape, as represented in film, to be gratuitous in particular ways that other acts of violence are not.

I am uncertain as to whether the gratuitousness of a rape scene is because of the way it is portrayed in popular cinema, or because it is portrayed period. It may also be that I find rape gratuitous, and that cinema is a faultless reflector of this dark reality.

Rape, as a real-life act of violence rather than a narrative arc, is something that men do, mostly to women and children[1]. (Although, this is not to say that men do not suffer as a result.) In the western world rape is most often committed by someone known to the victim. In the act of rape familiarity and trust transforms into an intimate and enduring violation. It is not like being shot or stabbed. It does not blow one back, it pulls the victim toward the violation. It has an intimacy and duration unlike any other act of violence and it is specifically directed at women.

Rape is a weapon, and a cheap one at that. There are socio-economic issues embedded in the act of rape. “War Rape,” as it is officially recognized by the United Nations, is an effective weapon used in genocide because it destroys its victims and entire communities. It causes social isolation, depression or suicide in its victims. It creates unwanted pregnancies, spreads disease, and destroys social units. It is a simple weapon, easier to obtain and operate than bombs or bullets. It attacks physically, psychologically and socially. It has the potential to affect entire communities for generations. [2]

I cannot think of another violation or weapon that encompasses the spectrum of damage and hurt, both political and personal, as rape. However, I don’t know that rape is a gratuitous act for

this reason alone. It is highly damaging, yes. But to ask whether it is gratuitous – that is, being without apparent reason – is a difficult question to answer.

The first rape scene I confidently looked away from was in the film Boys Don’t Cry. Before that I had (with difficulty) seen others in Deliverance, The Accused and The Prince of Tides, among others.[3] Until Boys Don’t Cry I thought of the rape scene as a test of endurance, a hyper-vigilant sensorial preparation perhaps. If I looked away, it meant that I couldn’t handle rape. It chagrins me to say it, but my reasoning was that if I couldn’t watch i

t then I definitely couldn’t survive it.

The film Boys Don’t Cry is based on the true story of a 21-year-old transgender man living in Nebraska, named Brandon Teena. When he was discovered to be biologically female, he was beaten, raped and later killed by acquaintances. I saw this film in 1999 at the Lumiere Theatre in San Francisco. I was 23. I went with my friend Lisa.

I remember that when I looked away I stared indignantly, but wide-eyed at the ground. I plugged my ears so that I couldn’t hear the awful sounds of rape. To watch and listen passively – obeying the path of sounds and visuals - felt too much like being complic

it in an act, or at least a dynamic to which I objected. Shutting my eyes was not the gesture I wanted to make. To continue watching would have been a gratuitous act.

The thing about rape is that, unlike murder, the intention of the rapist is not to eradicate a person, to remove the victim from the world. Instead, the victim is forced into a humiliated, miserable and devalued existence. It is not a hopeful violent act, like murder can be considered, although it is distasteful to do so. Murder, in some respects, is a violent act of idealism. By eliminating an undesirable life, the murderer can exist unchallenged. Rape is the opposite. No one dies, but both rapist and victim coexist in an unspeakable hell of violation and humiliation.

To watch those men a

ttack Brandon Teena with this intention was unbearable to watch. Just as actors dramatize real-life events, so too does an audience member dramatize her reactions as a spectator to the event portrayed. As an audience member my role was a “rape-watcher.” All audience members are subjected to this dynamic, and this – if not anything else – is gratuitous. I just don’t see the reason for it.

The act of watching a film, just like the act of rape, has a socio-economic implication. Those who buy movie tickets are not those who are victimized. They purchase the privileg

e of spectatorship. They will watch a dramatization of someone else’s suffering. All the while the dynamic of the spectacle reassures them – based on their vantage point - that it is not them who suffers. They are, however, learning something about the suffering of the other. This information might be summarized as this: these are the conditi

ons under which one is raped and this is the kind of person who is raped.

My objection to the use of film to dramatize rape is that it inherently puts the

audience in the role of “rape-watcher.” The rape is happening now and yet you are in a position of inaction, of complacency. Compare this with rape dramatized in renaissance p

ainting, or in documentary photographs. The viewer, or the observer of someone else’s suffering, can only be a retrospective witness. It happened. It is in the past. There is nothing you can do about it now. You may contemplate or internalize it, but the medium itself is not provoking you into action.

The scene in Boys Don’t Cry is uncomfortable because I want to intervene but cannot. My sensory systems are telling me that something terrible is happening, and my suspended belief as a movie-goer tells me that it’s real. But reason restrains me. This event already happened many years in the past. There is nothing you can do about it now. Still, I am provoked in real time, and I am uncomfortable that I have no agency.

After the film was over, I clearly remember waiting in line in the women’s restroom. It was crowded with women and it was completely silent. No one made eye contact, there were no audible civilities. We had all been subjected to something that left us beyond words or action. Did it render us impotent? Why were we not outraged and conversant in the matter?

It is worth mentioning that the film dramatized a rape scene, but it cut a scene in which Brandon Teena made love to his girlfriend. The two were kissing and just as clothing started to come off, the camera faded and dissolved into a scene where the couple was nude, reposed and relaxed. Brandon Teena, as a character in this narrative, was not to be seen engaged in an act of love, but one of hate and violence.

Today, the Democratic Republic of Congo is known as the “rape capital of the world,” with an estimated 200,000 surviving rape victims. South Africa has some of the highest incidences of child and baby rape in the world. A woman born in South Africa has a greater chance of being raped than learning how to read.

It seems to me that because rape is clearly an epidemic reality in parts of the world, that to portray it within a medium that renders people speechless and immobilized – stunned in general – is ineffectual. Is the cinematic rape scene reinforcing an attitude of powerlessness when it comes to rape in general? It happens, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

[1] 99% of rape offenders in the US are male. 91% of rape victims are female.

[2] Hundreds of thousands of Tutsi women and girls were raped during the Rwanda genocide in 1994. 200,000 Bengali women were raped by the Pakistani Army during the Bangledesh Liberation War in 1971. 80,000 Chinese women were raped by Japanese soldiers during the Nanking Massacre in 1937. During the colonization of the Americas, rape of native women was not considered a crime because they were not Christian.

[3] Unbelievably, there is a top 10 most disturbing rape scenes list on rottentomatoes.com.

http://www.rottentomatoes.com/vine/showthread.php?t=342768

Bricks Made With Wool - Who Knew?

2011-02-28T09:41:00.003-05:00

Summary: ScienceDaily (2010-10-06) -- Researchers have added wool fibers to the clay material used to make bricks and combined these with an alginate, a natural polymer extracted from seaweed. The result is bricks that are stronger and more environmentally-friendly, according to a new study.
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/10/101005085503.htm#

The Student Loan Scam as Told by a Bankruptcy Lawyer (very clearly)

2011-01-29T11:02:00.003-05:00

Article in the New York Daily News

2011-01-23T19:20:00.002-05:00

Monica Johnson
Makes: Crocheted and knit cold-weather accessories
Lives: Long Island City

Making hats, hoods, wrist cuffs and cowls not only keeps others warm, but helps Monica Johnson get through the cold. "I was in San Francisco for about 12 years and with a Mediterranean climate, we didn't get extreme temperatures," she explains. "But I'm from Michigan originally and about five years ago, I moved back there for a year and my mom taught me how to knit. It was my way of creatively handling the extreme weather, and something that kept my hands busy.

"So when I moved to New York a year after that, I just kept doing it," adds Johnson, 34. "Eventually, you clothe so many of your family members and friends, but you still end up with so much more, so I sell them."

Johnson, who has a fine arts background and works as an exhibitions manager for the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards, spends about five hours on each item.

"I like really simple, solid designs," she says. "And they're alterable. For example, the cowls are oversized, so you can wrap it around once or leave it hanging twice. Usually with each of my things you can accessorize it in different ways. And they're all very well-made because I don't rely on this as a way to make a living. I have the luxury of making sure that whatever I made, I feel proud of."

Read more: http://www.nydailynews.com/lifestyle/2011/01/23/2011-01-23_queens_museum_of_arts_gift_shop_spotlights_borough_artists_including_wire_croche.html#ixzz1BuK0uK92

A New Year for Wool + Brick

2011-01-23T18:58:00.002-05:00

When I first started Wool + Brick I imagined myself a one-person commercial store. I incorporated an aesthetic and a language that was – more or less – a descendant of the retail clothing industry. I titled my handmade items with names that evoked a metaphorical experience that I thought would inspire purchase.

Names like “St. John Cap” and “Museum Cowl” were earnestly chosen because these places were a part of my own consciousness at the time they were designed. It is easy to imagine the same names being used in an LL Bean or J.Crew catalogue, where lifestyle and experience is what often inspires purchase.

The bottom line is this: cottage industries – like Wool + Brick – cannot compete with corporations like these because the big guys will always offer a better price. And we all know the sad reality of why that’s true.

So, why compete using their strategies?

The fact that the handmade/cottage industry is thriving - with the help of online facilitators like Etsy - presents a new and unique opportunity to develop a different and equally successful set of strategies for commercial sales.

To that end, I am making a new commitment to using informative language and visuals to sell Wool + Brick products. If I distract your attention too much with metaphorical titles and slick photography, then you might miss what I want you to see – an expertly made product.

This is not my full-time job, though it is for some people. So, I am also committed to making my products at prices that will not drive the market prices down for those people. My part-time hobby should not negatively affect the ability of others to make a fair living.

This overhaul will take some time. I expect I will have the semblance of a new shop starting January 2011. Until then, thank you for visiting – and thank you for reading this far!

The U.P. in the Summer

2008-09-25T11:36:00.001-04:00

NO COMMENT

2008-09-05T01:30:00.000-04:00

Another Review I Forgot to Post Earlier...

2008-04-28T10:22:00.002-04:00

TITLE:	Monica Johnson at lack Fischer Gallery
SOURCE:	Artweek 38 no7 14-15 S 2007
COPYRIGHT:	The magazine publisher is the copyright holder of this article and it is reproduced with permission. Further reproduction of this article in violation of the copyright is prohibited. To contact the publisher: http://www.artweek.com/

Like some haunting dream-world between memory and history, nostalgia and nightmare, g Monica Johnson's exhibition, Stick 'Em Up! Stay Down! Grow Up!, consisted of images both familiar and unnervingly odd--the uncanny at its aesthetic best.
Technically adept, every line in Johnson's drawings seems perfectly planned and orchestrated, while the end result is in the style of certain graphic novels---slightly disproportioned bodies, overstated gestures and freckles and grins. These images are lodged in a fantasized childhood--but not a pleasant kind of fantasy with playgrounds and sunlight and your friendly dragon; more the ones you might haltingly talk about in a psychoanalyst's office. The figures peer out with expressions both exaggerated and inscrutable, often reminding the viewer of the petty cruelties children and adolescents inflict on each other, or the indignities children suffer at the seeming whim of adults. Indeed, Johnson states that these works emerged from a yearlong visit to her hometown, and are in some part an attempted exorcism of the ghosts of childhood.
Among the most striking of Johnson's images is a pair of graphite drawings depicting what at first glance seems to be innocent childhood scenes. Upon closer examination, one finds a complex orchestration of bodies, history, race and childhood exclusion reverberating amongst the juvenile figures. In Loser, a child (Johnson's self-portrait) in full Confederate regalia stands outside a short brick wall, forlornly looking into the middle distance, a pistol sagging impotently from her hand. Meanwhile, a small crowd of children dressed in nineteenth-century garb glare at her accusingly. Loser's companion piece, the aptly titled Winner, features a similar gathering, but with a pre-adolescent Union soldier (also a self-portrait) standing within a similar short brick wall, grinning amongst an adoring mini-throng of child admirers. The soldier holds a hand over her heart while the children gaze upon her lovingly and a happy little terrier dances upon its hind legs.
These pieces place the United States' thorniest domestic conflict within the world of childhood justice. And this is not, one realizes while looking at the images, to say that justice is somehow eviscerated or even mitigated by being placed in the hands of smaller humans. Instead, one is reminded of the often harsh justice that children mete out, and how it grabs hold of young ostracized or bullied psyches. In this context, a history of discord stretches out from 1865 to 2007 and beyond; the Civil War is resituated as a schoolyard tussle of epic proportions. The saga of racial tensions and the political friction between North and South is imbued with a new emotional resonance both smaller and greater than in our history books.
Johnson also groups six small chalkboards together, each inscribed with a meticulously lettered phrase: "Monica-Jar ate a Guitar That's Why Her Boobs Are So Big"; "I Just Wanted To See if I Could Make You Cry"; "Sacrifice Your Body For The Ball." The lettering's flourishes and flowing lines are straight out of the 1800s, but the phrases are pure late twentieth-century schoolyard taunt. This combination, as well as the halo of erasure marks that several are written upon, gives the works a ghostly presence that reminds us of how such sentiments inscribe themselves both transiently and tenaciously in memory.
In another series of six works, Johnson uses wallpaper--that flowery type you might find in your grandmother's parlor--and wood paneling to evoke a sense of the past. Each piece uses the found material to create the idea of a room, peopled with diminutive figures. Yet, this past is not only of your grandmother's era. It is also firmly marked by the 1980s: One figure is in a "Beat It" shirt, another hands a companion a Rick Astley album (on vinyl), a grinning girl with an Esprit bag slung over her shoulder stands next to a friend bearing an "Erin 4 VP." sign.
In her artist's statement, Johnson says that this show emerged from personal reflections on her long visit home. Yet, by combining this sense of internal inventory with iconic images-- Confederate and Union uniforms; an Esprit bag; an old pistol---she also gives the images the stamp of history, which is the imprint both of particular pasts and repeating patterns. They remind us that we can never escape history--not the personal nor the political, not those that have passed nor those that we are in the midst of living through. Viewing these works is like encountering and excavating the ghosts of one's ancestral home before tearing down the appalling wallpaper and bringing in fresh paint from Restoration Hardware.
ADDED MATERIAL
Jakki Spicer is a freelance writer based in Alameda.
Monica Johnson: Stick 'em Up! Stay Down! Grow Up! closed in July at Jack Fischer Gallery, San Francisco.
Monica Johnson, ErinForVP, 2006, vinlage wallpaper, wood veneer, graphite, watercolor, at Jack Fischer Gallery, San Francisco.

Nice Review of My Work....that i forgot to post earlier

2008-04-06T21:11:00.001-04:00

right here

Metalmags are so German Public Access circa 1980

2008-03-24T17:31:00.000-04:00

Unraveled and Re-Knit

2008-03-20T13:10:00.006-04:00

I've completed my first unraveled and re-knit sweater. To be fair it's not exactly a sweater anymore. And it's actually crocheted, not knit. I'm a big fat liar, okay? In the process of unraveling the Charter Club brand machine-knit sweater I lost quite a bit of thread so I had to settle for a much smaller re-creation. Using a loose crochet pattern helped the thread cover much more area than if I had knit it. You can see in the arm pit area of the original sweater that the pattern gets a little complicated. That's where the unraveling became problematic and the thread turned into a mess of knots.

To be honest, I'm not exactly sure why I'm doing this. It's cheaper to reuse old sweater yarn than to buy new yarn, even when you factor in the cost of the sweater. Yarn is wildly expensive and I'm tired of paying for it. And, of course there is something of a comparison between machine-made and hand-made in play here, as well as deconstruction and reconstruction.

I've got four other sweaters unraveling right now and one in the process of becoming a re-knit shirt. I would love if anyone would like to donate old sweaters to this project that are otherwise headed for Goodwill. Single-colored sweaters work best (usually if there are multiple colors the sweater unravels into multiple strands and becomes a mess). Send me an email and I will come get them anywhere in the New York area. monicamjohnson@hotmail.com

I Can't Make It Anymore

2008-03-08T20:36:00.000-05:00

Better Than the Whitney Biennial

2008-03-07T22:17:00.000-05:00

Ages 1-100, all marching to the beat of their own drum.

Whitney Biennial

2008-03-07T20:59:00.008-05:00

On Wednesday I went to the opening night of the Whitney Biennial, my first biennial of any kind. I have to be honest: it was a low-rent affair. Holland Cotter says it better:

...the overall tenor of the show is low-key, with work that seems to be in a transitional, questioning mode, art as conversation rather than as statement, testing this, trying that. Assemblage and collage are popular. Collaboration is common. So are down-market materials — plastic, plywood, plexiglass — and all kinds of found and recycled ingredients, otherwise known as trash.

Clever, that one... Still, Phoebe Washburn's installation, whose title as well as image is nowhere to be found on the Whitney's website, outshines all the the low-key trash. (alternate Washburn image above) Assortments of yellow and green golf balls stand in for lemons and limes in a factory-like installation that seems to create a botanically-based beverage. Upside-down buckets stabilize a wooden deck, through which plants grow with the help of clip lamps. Instant Gatorade packets flank the inner walls of the factory, making the conceptual link between golf balls, plants and beverage. Aquariums filled with colored water add an element of activity and industry.

Other works I liked were by Frances Stark (middle image) and Ry Rocklen (below). But, of course, these are not images of the work that I liked in the show. Sorry.

The only celebrity I saw the entire evening was Tracee Ellis Ross*, otherwise known as the bug-eyed girl on BET's sitcom Girlfriends. Like I said, it was a low-rent affair.

*I just found out she is also Diana Ross' daughter. I can't decide if this lowers or raises the rent...

Natural History Museum

2008-03-04T15:25:00.003-05:00

Martha Rosler's "Semiotics of the Kitchen"

2008-02-29T21:14:00.005-05:00

I went to Martha Rosler's Night School Seminar yesterday at the New Museum and feel like there were more ideas and information in the room than in my entire MFA program. AND it was free. To my delight I saw her 1975 film Semiotics of the Kitchen at the WACK! exhibit at PS1. She is dryly hysterical. Watch it quick before www.youtube.com yanks it. Otherwise, you can watch it on www.ubuweb.com.

Dorothea Rockburne

2008-02-29T12:09:00.009-05:00

This will not be a very informed post, but i just wanted to get these images up before another impulse took over. I went to MOMA yesterday and saw this piece by Dorothea Rockburne, an artist who (until now) has slipped through the cracks of my art history education. She was born in Canada in 1932 and educated at Black Mountain College, although she was significantly younger than Rauschenberg et al. The piece is titled A, C and D From Group/ And, 1970. I thought it was interesting to note the differences in its installation between 1970 (below) and 2008 (above).

Her early materials include graphite, cardboard, crude oil, chipboard and nails. i think this work is so elegant and so "felt," especially standing in front of the huge slabs or drapes or drafting tables or whatever they are. Her later work is a little on the "eh..." side. She was heavily interested in math, science and astronomy and has spent most of her later career making cosmos-esque paintings that have none of the strength in A, C and D. She turns away from "felt" materials and instead uses traditional paints on mostly handmade papers. Eh.... I am guessing her Black Mountain days finely tuned her Martian sensibilities, making work about physicality and strength and with a limited palette. Since then, it seems, she has turned Venetian. She is more in her head, more sensual and dependent on color and line. These are just my initial thoughts after seeing her work for the first time.

Money Funny

2008-02-22T20:42:00.003-05:00

We are in love

2008-02-22T20:16:00.004-05:00

.....or maybe he's just submitted to my ways. This dog, this toothless, sightless, senseless, ever hungry and thirsty, poop'n'pee machine of a dog, has turned me into a spineless slave to his every desire. you wanna pee on the carpet today? that's fine, just lick my face when you're done. you want ground beef with yams and rice tonight? coming right up! i'll even add some olive oil for a shiny coat and lecithin for an active peanut-sized brain. if aliens were observing our daily rituals, they would wonder how the small furry creature managed to enslave the pale-skinned biped. i am an unconditional slave to cuteness. that's how.

Staying Indoors Today

2008-02-22T18:49:00.005-05:00

It's so crummy out today. The one time i left the house i found out my new boots are not actually waterproof (i stepped directly into a six-inch deep slush puddle) AND i got caught in the crossfire of a snowball fight. I still can't get over that those kids laughed when it hit me. Why not say sorry? Because hitting white ladies with snowballs is funny. The other day when i was walking Walter, a kid ran up behind him and yelled at him. Scaring the living shit out of an obviously dilapidated dog was hilarious to him. What the hell is wrong with kids? Leave my dog alone. I'm getting a BB gun tomorrow....

A Gay WHAT?

2008-02-17T10:46:00.006-05:00

A Gay BOMB. That's right. I just happened to be up last night reading about this year's winners of the Ig Nobel Prize and came across a particularly disturbing winner. The Air Force Wright Laboratory in Dayton, Ohio was awarded the 2007 Ig Nobel Peace Prize for suggesting research and development for a "gay bomb," which would cause same sex enemy troops to get freaky with one another. What? Now, the fact that they won the Ig Nobel Peace Prize this year is perfectly fitting. Ig Nobel is a play on the word ignoble, meaning not noble, not honorable and just plain stupid. So the award is not the disturbing issue. What is killing me softly is knowing that the United States Air Force proposed a $7.5 million dollar research project to develop the so-called "gay-bomb." This originally happened in 1994, the same year Clinton tried to openly admit gays into the military and then embarassingly settled on "don't ask, don't tell." Knowledge of the Gay Bomb proposal didn't reach mainstream media until 2005 but has regenerated attention with the 2007 prize. It is encouraging to know our military is going to absurd lengths to develop non-lethal weapons. The obvious problem is that the gay bomb proposal exposes profound institutional ignorance and hatred of homosexuality.

I ran out into the living room to share my discovery of the Gay Bomb only to find my roommates watching Tom Tykwer's (Run, Lola, Run director) movie Perfume (which i highly recommend, btw.) In the final scene of this disturbing murder flick, the protagonist splashes himself with perfume made from the bodies of several dead women. The crowd that had amassed to see his execution (for the murder of the several dead women) consequently falls into a rapture of love and lust for him and then for each other. A massive orgy ensues in which opposite and same-sex French peasants suddenly find each other irresistible. This movie was based on the book Perfume by Patrick Suskind, published in 1985. So, I'm wondering could the Gay Bomb proposal of 1994 have been influenced by this book? People in the military read books? Could it be? Incredible. You heard it here first.

New Work

2008-02-16T12:31:00.002-05:00

I had a rough week and i think i may have channeled my frustrations into my work.

crazy for rachel

2008-02-10T21:23:00.004-05:00

if the apocalypse were to happen today Rachel Harrison would be in the streets scavenging for sculptural fodder. i think that's what excites me about her work. she has completely convinced me that grotesquely-painted polystyrene forms and debris from our commercial culture go together like tires and stuffed goats. http://www.centrepompidou.fr/education/ressources/ENS-rauschenberg/ENS-rauschenberg.htm
maybe she is just the Robert Rauschenberg of her generation and maybe that's just what her generation needs. my generation needs. we all may need. she's 42, by the way and not necessarily so new to the art world's mainstream. She's had solo shows at both the Milwaukee Museum of Art and the SFMOMA in the early 00's. I have heard from a personal source that she is a force to be reckoned with. By that, i mean that she is fierce about her choices with her work and most likely wouldn't take well to a curator's constructive criticism. In New York her work can be seen in the New Museum's inaugural show Unmonumental, in Two Years at the Whitney and in some corner of the MOMA, i don't remember where.