Andy Paczos: Abandoned Demolition
Andy Paczos’s new exhibit Abandoned Demolition calls attention to neglected scenes in the urban milieu.

Andy Paczos’s new exhibit Abandoned Demolition calls attention to neglected scenes in the urban milieu.

The exhibition For Public Consumption, and the conversation surrounding it, addresses a variety of very interesting questions that are inherent to exhibition venues such as the HPAC’s ‘digital façade’. Some of the artworks shown on the façade since April 2006 focus on the very nature of the projection screen as a permeable membrane between the interior and the exterior. Other artworks emphasize aspects of the semiotics of urban screens in the context of advertisement, intimacy and privacy, scale, ambient conditions, and site-specific features.
Within the recent years, an emerging international discourse has developed within the Arts, Urban Studies, and Architecture, addressing questions of cultural curation and contribution within the increasing visual culture of public spaces (i.e. the Urban Screens Conference in Amsterdam, 2005, and Manchester, 2007). Within this discourse, one of the most challenging is the question of site-specificity in relation to the local visual culture.
Some of the text that DIDN’T get used in “Swagger & Remorse”
This comment came in an e-mail exchange, regarding viewing our videos from the street.
Not long ago, I began looking at several on-line “confessional” websites. I sought to use the texts as triggering mechanisms for poems. I found that despite the “unpolished” and “non-literary” quality of the on-line writings, the tone is beautifully colloquial and conversational, brave and unabashed. There is poetry beneath the swagger and remorse.
Have you ever picked up a book at random in a library, bookstore or from your own bookshelf, then idly thumb the pages? I am sure you have. Wandering the internet via Google or any on-line search engine or blog serves the same purpose. Therein exists a continuous & what one might call a Browsable Narrative.
I liked that the video facades would be silent, which gave me a chance to rant as loudly and as much as I wanted on any subject without danger of having to justify myself. Or further, to try to make myself heard through the silence, like talking extra loud to someone who doesn’t speak your language in hopes they will understand. I’ve done a number of pieces (primarily live performances) which depend upon difficult to impossible systems of communication: trying to address the audience in Klingon, using signaling whistles, magnetic letters, hand written notes, walkie-talkies, and creating word games or questionnaires to filter language. One thing that interested me about this project is all of the different things which are potentially read into silence. If you listen politely to a talkative stranger at a bus stop they may take your occasional nodding for acceptance, disdain, passivity, stupidness, or bestow upon you the qualities of someone else they know. Although despite the silence of my videos, I guess I am really the talkative stranger, blurting out theories and views to whoever is in the area. But I think the silence still functions as a depository for the audiences ideas about what I may be saying as much as for my own words.
Every artwork is attempting to say “Hey look at me I’m brilliant” anyway, so I decided to start there. And then my videos are also in competition with each other. On each screen I appear, I am trying to distract the viewer from the other four next to me.
Maybe this is everyday stuff for artists who normally work large, but I was really surprised by how much the videos change from different vantage points. When making them, I was primarily imagining the exterior view, with all five screens visible at once and seen as a part of the building and the city around it. (I had a photo of this tacked up in my studio while I was working). But looking at the videos from the catwalk is very different, and I think much more tactile. The scale becomes more evident, because you cannot really look at all of the screens at one time. The figures in the video become gauged more in relation to the size of one’s own body. For example, John Bannon’s parade viewers often seem life-sized, and my own face is gigantic, aggressive, and much more authoritarian. From this view I also experienced the desire to run from video to video to see what I was missing on the other screens. People were making shadow puppets in the projection beam, and children were picking the nose of my ranting video projection.
-Deva Eveland
Thinking back to our panel discussion (which turned out to be more of an informal conversation), a good deal of time was spent wondering about how the video façade is experienced. Does it attract a “non-art” or an “in-the-know” crowd? How many people outside actually pass by it? Is it viewed as a billboard or is it obviously a display of fine art? It was also described as a membrane, emphasizing the potential for art institutions that are not so hermetically sealed against the outside world. But there seemed to be a sticking point as to whether “For Public Consumption” actually does what the title suggests.
Whether or how much the show engages new audiences is difficult to measure, but I don’t think we should assume it does not, or that the effort is wasted. If you project images out into a public space where anyone is free to pass by, who sees it? What do they make of it? I actually enjoy the not knowing. In part I guess because some of my own most interesting experiences, (art or otherwise) have happened at random. One minute walking down the street thinking about laundry, and the next being caught up in something completely unexpected. In my own past, these experiences have often been solitary, or briefly shared with a complete stranger without being otherwise registered, counted, tabulated, etc.
Many Americans place importance on introspection, self-revelation, and creating a particular self-image to portray to the world. Our enthusiasm for therapists, talk shows, and emotion-regulating medications are all examples of individuals trying to better understand and live with themselves and others.
My work is a manifestation of my own complex relationship with introspection and the creation of a personal identity. I often use written and visual personal narratives to examine sociological tendencies. While openly trying to better understand my world, I also use satire to explore sociological concerns such as dislocation, relationship and group dynamics, class issues, and the ways in which we communicate with each other.
I couldn’t wait to watch the De La Hoya/Mayweather fight last night, but it turned out to be pretty unremarkable. Mayweather and De La Hoya are in such great shape that when final bell rang, both men looked like they were just getting warmed up, like they had jogged around the block instead of battled for the world championship. The fight was so lackluster that I spent the first five or so rounds celebrity spotting. J Lo and Marc Anthony were sitting about six rows back on the right-hand side, John McCain—center, three rows up. Leo DiCaprio (sporting a White Sox cap) and Toby McGuire were cheering from the top left-hand corner of the screen.
Earlier on TV, I spotted the Queen of England standing in the grandstands amongst various famous, wealthy Americans at the Kentucky Derby. I remember watching Nick and Jessica’s trip to the derby a few years back on an episode of “Newlyweds”. During the two hours of live coverage that preceded this year’s two minute horse race, it was easy to forget that the show wasn’t just an equine themed episode of “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous”. For one afternoon, a track where horses run around in mud is transformed into a giant V.I.P. lounge. Seeing all these celebs made me realize that major sporting events aren’t really made for non-elite public consumption anymore.
Stream of Consciousness. It consists of video footage of crowds attending parades shot from the point of view of a camera mounted on a float. The following is a history and some of my thoughts on the project.
Hula Lou (Presented as part of For Public Consumption)
Twenty dances performed to Sophie Tucker’s recording of “Hula Lou”
By Danièle Wilmouth & Morganville (Trevor Martin and Kym Olsen)
Background:
Our story begins in Chicago on April 3, 1924 when Beulah Annan shot her lover Harry Kalstedt.
For over two hours, Beulah watched Kalstedt slowly die. She drank gin and listened to a popular song called “Hula Lou” played over and over on her phonograph…
Over the next five weeks each of the For Public Consumption artists will take a turn as “host” to the blog.
To introduce you to the artists, we interviewed each of them on video, and posted the videos here. The interviews are presented in the order that the artists will host the blog. In order of appearance: Morganville and Danièle Wilmouth, John Bannon, Shawnee Barton, Deva Eveland, and Richard Fox.
Stephanie: The FPC artist panel was all at once something very wonderful and something very silly.
We had been thinking of the panel as something where after months and months of planning this show and finally getting it going, we would celebrate our successes, watch the videos, discuss each other’s work, and finally, the BIG THEME of it all. And really, though we called it a panel, we really meant discussion. This idea was great and wonderful, and kicked off without a hitch.
Erik: Of course there were a few bugs to work out on the actual video projections yet but thanks to the telephone guidance of Chris the tech guru at HPAC we had things humming along.

Hi all,
We are having a public talk and casual chat with the For Public Consumptions artists on Sunday, 4/15 @ 2pm in the Muller Meeting Room in 4833 at HPAC.
Everyone is welcome. Think of it as a jam session with FPC artists, curators, and anyone who wants to join in the fray.
During the discussion, we will engage ideas and questions raised by the FPC exhibition about the HPAC facade, and how it functions in the local community. The perspectives of audience, artists, and curators will all play an important role in this talk.
This will be the kind of good time that people, people who like to talk about art and art institutions, can really sink their teeth into.
To get our thoughts going, here are a few of the questions we have been kicking around with the artists and hope include:
Welcome to the first official post of the For Public Consumption. This blog is designed to be something like a gallery guide, something like an artist statement or curatorial essay, and something like a multi-media artwork. Each week the blog will be hosted by a different FPC artist, curator, and maybe some surprise guests.
This week the blog will be hosted the FPC curators, Erik Fabian and Stephanie Pereira. From April 11- 21 we will introduce you to the show, the artists, and some our process of getting the show up and running. We will also post a response to our artist panel this coming Sunday, April 15th from 2-4pm.
Today’s post is a description of the genesis of For Public Consumption, and some thoughts on how each piece connects to HPAC, Links Hall, and you.