22/3/13

11/3/13

On limits and perimeters;Montse Badía

 
At the moment the French Institute in Barcelona is presenting El perímetre intern (The internal perimeter), a group exhibition curated by Andrea Rodríguez Novoa and Veronica Valentini. The dozen or so works, by Spanish and French artists, presented in El perímetro interno propose a reflection on the notion of limits (geographical, historical, political, economic, social, cultural, personal…), their ambiguities and their imprecisions.

Narrating stories, highlighting examples, indicating points of confluence or carrying out small displacements are just a few of the examples employed by these artists to explore this notion. Oriol Vilanova takes a vitrine from the French Institute and deprives it of its function, simply exhibiting it open. Through the image of a wax cylinder, Dominique Hurth proposes a series of non-linear narratives. “Let hope predominate without being too visionary” is the message that Anna Moreno wrote on the placards that she showed in the world demonstration of 15 October 2011 in Barcelona and Vienna. A disturbing and undecipherable anonymous letter is the proposal by Audrey Cottin that focuses on the limits of authorship. A photograph accompanied by a Quahog shell are the elements that Aymeric Ebrard uses as a way of trying to identify what constitutes forming part of a community. Fran Meana presents an installation, with a slightly unstable equilibrium, where he compares images (and one ends up finding many common features) related to North-American Land Art and workers revolts in the dockyards of the northern Spain. Ariadna Parreu enters into the world of desires and utopias, using scientific, geometric and telekinesic references. Pauline Bastard reveals the mechanisms used to produce a romantic sunset. Ryan Rivadeneyra relates, visually and literally, his unsuccessful search for Tartessus, the mythical lost city. In their film, Pythagore et les monstres, Louise Hervé and Chloé Maillet transform the philosopher Pythagoras into the protagonist of a film with numerous traits of a B series film. Through references to a story by Lewis Carroll, Irene de Andrés constructs a perfect map, of which all that is left is the frame. The complex history of Europe now transformed into a huge tourist theme park is reflected in an installation, by Lúa Coderch, in which an electric fan artificially blows up a bag from a souvenir shop.



The internal perimeter shares approaches and concerns with another project recently presented in la Capella that we commented on a few weeks ago: La condició narrativa, curated by Alexandra Laudo. Both propose a reflection related to a specific theme and one that is relevant at the moment (one focuses on the image and the narrative condition, while the other explores the notion of limits and their imprecisions) and in this process of reflection they also evidence other things: a certain generational approximation of the artists (born in the decade of the eighties) who work with a huge diversity of materials, though often in low-tech formats; that they investigate, indicate and present facts or events from the present and the past that make it possible to reflect on the present; that they explain histories or construct situations and reveal mechanisms.

And as we’re talking about generational themes, it’s worth remembering that during the seventies, in a Barcelona still devoid of contemporary art institutions (let’s not forget that the first, the Fundació Joan Miró, was inaugurated in 1975), some of the most risky artistic proposals took place in the foreign institutes in the city. The Institut Français, the Istituto Italiano di Cultura, the Goethe-Institut and the Institute of North American Studies were just a few of the places where the works by conceptual artists were presented, as well as the encounters, discussions and seminars that reflected on the new role of art and artists.

I’m not sure if history is repeating itself, but it’s curious that just when the artistic institutions in Barcelona seem to have lost their way, some of the most interesting proposals are arising out of independent initiatives, in foreign cultural institutes, artists’ studios and non-profit spaces. And the reasons for this are not to be found solely in the cuts or the increase in VAT.

10/3/13

Love Longitude? 'Maphead' Locates Geography Buffs


 A schoolgirl in Texas stands in front of a map in 1943.
A schoolgirl in Texas stands in front of a map in 1943.
The Library of Congress
 
Do you ever read an atlas for pleasure? If you go to a new city, can you imagine not knowing which way is north? Is it hard for you to imagine life without a map?

Then you might be a maphead, says trivia buff Ken Jennings.

"If there's a map on the wall of the room, people like us just cannot turn away," he tells Fresh Air's Dave Davies. "There's just something hypnotic about maps."
Jennings, who rose to national prominence in 2004 with his 74-game winning steak on Jeopardy!, charts what he calls "the wide, weird world of geography" in his latest book, Maphead, which profiles Google Maps engineers, geocachers, imaginary mapmakers, rare map collectors, National Geographic Bee contestants, roadtrippers and other "mapheads" who love latitude, longitude and everything in between.

The Map Room

One of the places Jennings visited was the Library of Congress map division, which holds more than 4.5 million items.

"The librarian there told me that it had to be in the basement because the holdings were so heavy that if you tried to put the maps and atlases on the top floor, they would fall through to the basement anyway," he says. "It's a library straight out of Jorge Luis Borges. It's a football field's worth of shelves as far as the eye can see — full of maps and atlases — and it seemed like the librarian could, at any point, pull out any of them and pull out some historical treasure."
For instance, the library contains George Washington's hand-drawn map of Virginia, as well as the maps from the Versailles conference at the end of World War I and Theodore Roosevelt's maps from South America after his presidency.
"It's just amazing," says Jennings. "It's just like a walk through history to look at these maps."


The Geography Bee

Jennings also went to the National Geographic Bee, the annual competition for teenagers who know all sorts of obscure geography trivia. He pitted himself in a trivia contest against a former contestant named Caitlin Snaring, one of just two girls to ever win the Geographic Bee. (Her winning question? What Vietnamese city, split by a river with the same name, was an imperial capital for more than a century? The answer: Hue.)

"I ended up getting a dozen right, and she ended up getting all but one of them," he says. "She beat me by a margin of 10 questions. It was like we were in a different league. She's in the pros, and she's going up against some Little Leaguer."

Jennings says that contestants know so much, they start running out of material to study.
"They're frantically going to the library for new books in hopes of finding new facts about the world to learn," he says.

A Different Kind Of Roadie

Jennings also met with a group of mapheads he calls "road geeks." A road geek, says Jennings, is someone obsessed with the interstate system of roads.

"They like to clinch roads — which means to drive on every inch of a certain highway — and they're interested in minutia as far down as the streetlamps on a certain length of road, or the typefaces on the signs," he says. "They notice when the government changes typeface on the interstate system. They're scholars — they drive around on these roads, taking pictures of road signs and trying to find mistakes to write their congressmen about — or taking pictures of road construction projects as they develop. This is their life."

Jennings says that "road geeks" are united by their need to be in actual places.
"They like to catalog and study things that could surround them," he says. "We live in an age where the world feels very explored. ... That's what unites all of these people: a desire to be explorers even though they were born centuries too late for the real era of exploration."

Interview Highlights

On the numbered highway system


"We don't realize how hard it was to drive anywhere outside the major cities less than a century ago. After World War I, the U.S. government ordered a tank convoy of jeeps to cross the country, and it took them months. There were casualties. There were injuries. A huge percentage of the jeeps that set out couldn't make it because the roads were so terrible. [The publisher] Rand McNally, looking for a way to map these roads ... could only give you directions: turn left at the barn, or turn right at the grove of poplar trees, or whatever. There was no signage, and this was not working out.

"... Wanting to have easier-to-read maps, Rand McNally held an inside contest for suggestions. And one of their designers said, 'There is no way to make the maps match the territory. We need to make the territory match the maps.' So Rand McNally decided to create their own numbering system for roads in the U.S., and then they sent groups to paint their numbers alongside every highway that needed one. They called it the Blazed Trail System. ... They would paint little flags with numbers and signs along these highways. The road atlas came first, and they had to change the maps to match it. ... It became a hit, states started to do it, and finally the government imposed the system we have today."

On geocaching



"These are people who are using GPS systems to find millions of little hidden objects throughout the world — often as simple as a piece of Tupperware hidden in the woods. You go to a website, you get the latitude and longitude to get the specific location of a certain specific hiding space, and then you go there and see if you can find it. Often it's as simple as a piece of Tupperware with some Happy Meal toys for the kids ... you can find hidden under a rotting log in the woods. Sometimes they're more ingeniously disguised, or there's a puzzle you have to solve. It's a culture of 4 million people who are all over the Earth right now looking for treasure that the rest of us don't even know about."

On Jeopardy!

"I can't relax and sink back in the couch and watch Jeopardy! the way I used to. That's sort of the one regret I have is, when I hear that music or I hear Trebek's Canadian accent, I used to get excited and now I just get panicky. It's like an adrenaline rush — I have post-traumatic game show stress disorder or something. I cannot relax into Jeopardy! the way I used to."



From here.