WHY “YOUNGER THAN JESUS” SHOULD ONLY EXHIBIT, SAY, 10 ARTISTS
New Museum
4.89.09-7.5.09

  The press release for the New Museum’s most recent show claims that the exhibit will “offer a rich, intricate, multidisciplinary exploration of the work being produced by a new generation of artists” dubbed “the Millenials, Generation Y, iGeneration, and Generation Me.” That’s ambitious.  When demographers look to define a generation, it seems logical that they enjoy demarcating the years of birth as pre-determinates for those who find themselves in their ascribed groupings. Yet for the Generation Y’s or Millenials (or whichever label you find most entertaining), it seems that the discourse surrounding their attributes is not complete, or cannot be separated from the subjects of consumption, or technology, or the consumption of technology.   So when the New Museum opened its doors to a show filled with work that looked just as comfortable living in 1989 as 2009, I wondered if perhaps a press release and exhibition edit might have been appropriate.

  The aforementioned generations include those first to have computers in schools (you remember Apple IIG’s or Commodore 64?) to those that have never known a world without computers. It’s a huge range of time (or at least in the super quick turnaround rate of technological time). Full disclosure here: I’m part of Generation Y. But also, we are a generation that knows of AIDS as a fully understandable and preventable disease, not the mysterious “gay flu” that was unnamable, unknowable.  We know communism more through history books, movies and vague memories of the Berlin Wall coverage  than any first person narrative.  We are fully aware that our identities are completely fluid and interchangeable in context of multiculturalism, retail shopping and the internet. We are complex.

  To be fair, I enjoyed much of the work, even though I wasn’t sure on it’s place within the show. A lot of the art, although made by someone born after 1976, felt as if it could have been made by someone born in 1956 (and displayed in ’76). Which brings into question the ability (or guts) of demographers or sociologists to define a generation and their attributes.  That being said, the majority of the work did not feel contemporary, save for a few disparate works. Guthrie Lonergan’s video grabs of Myspace introductions were perhaps the most straightforward illustration of the obvious, as clips were montaged together of introductions by unknown “actors,” taken from the now passe social networking site. The techno-obsolescence existentialist dilemma was highlighted by Mark Essen who created his own video game (that was incredibly difficult to play) with outdated graphics; the older statesmen of this genre, Cory Arcangel, also known for misuse and revival of outdated technology, is also present in the show.

  Ryan Trecartin feels especially relevant in this exhibition, as admittedly, I have found more of a palette of late to enjoy his difficult to stomach videos. Trecartin here shows two video installations, complete with seating and a plethora of monitors. The first appears loosely like the interior of an airplane with all chairs facing the “nose” of the plane; the second like an unkept living room. Trecartin, uses the idea that we are able to create whatever image of self we would like on the internet, and becomes not one identity, but no identity. Originally noticed for his films posted on youtube.com, his works seem to usually be described as “surreal.” Whatever. It’s a catch all word used to give validity to the narrative. His videos are absolutely absurd and ridiculous and that is where their power lies. The actors in his films are costumed from head to toe, holding conversations that solely consist of non-sequiturs and allusions to sexuality and self awareness. My favorite line from the second video was “we are practicing how people make decisions.” Indeed. Aren’t we all?

    Anna Molska’s video Tanagram, 2006-2007, seems to gain power the more I recall it. In her video, two chiseled figures, lightly clad with only black thong like undergarments and gladiator helmets sent from the future build a three dimensional puzzle. The video, shot in black and white, takes place in a pristine studio space with no decoration other than the actors and several large black blocks that the figures arrange and rearrange into Constructivist-like formations.   The entire sequence makes you think of socialist ideas of utopia, perfection and the body, perfection and the spirit, existence. But there is a narrative distance in the piece, as if less a reflection of subjective knowledge than mediated history.   Indeed, Molska lived through 8 years of communist rule before her native Poland moved into democracy; communism as a dream, not coming of age in communism.

  Molska’s work is perhaps one of the strongest representatives of the iGeneration, Millenialls, etc. in this show. A generation that was taught about the red scare, a generation where AIDS always was and will be, and computers were never not a part of life. That is my generation, that is now. Had the New Museum used different wording in their press release, perhaps the exhibit’s light of context would have shown differently.  But, I suppose “Younger than Jesus” and demographic buzzwords like “Generation Y” are a lot more exciting than “Artists under 33.”