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Storm of the i: An Artobiography, Art Review Press 2009
But as an Artobiography, Ms. Collen weaves into the narrative her journey of self-discovery through art and self expression. Artpoints has interviewed Tina Collen, here, in her own words, is her explanation of the book: Artpoints: Storm of the i: An Artobiography is an arresting title, the i referring to the self and the storm to an outpouring of creativity, (my interpretation). Would you like to expand on this? Tina Collen: And of course the eye being an integral part of seeing and creating—the eye seeing outside, the "i" seeing inside. The "Storm" also has more than one meaning—not only an outpouring of creativity but also a storm of emotion. A. You have worked as an artist of “Found Objects”, in the book you place many objects for the reader to find and delight over, could you talk about your intentions with these objects? T. C. The journey was begun by discovering that it is the objects with which I have surrounded myself that are telling me the real story of my life. The placement of the objects and the creation of the three dimensional pieces, (foldout paintings, cutouts, an pop-up that hands the reader a fortune cookie with a message inside, and even a mildly scandalous lift-up flap) all those were included to entertain the reader along the way—just as I entertained myself during a difficult childhood by making all sorts of things. A. You discuss reevaluating your art as you grow older, Marcel Duchamp famously said that the creation of art is a collaboration of the artist and the viewer. In the book you seem to claim both roles, would you like to expand on this? T. C. In my memoir I am the artist and the viewer of my life. The reader, on the other hand, is the viewer of my view. A. Despair over your relationship with your father is a driving force in your art. Are there examples where content of your creations are informed by the nature and source of the despair? T. C. Five years ago, I took a weeklong trip up into the mountains to visit some old friends. On the way back home I misjudged how long the drive would take because it began to snow heavily and I ended up driving late into the night. When I finally got home, I walked in the front door, took off my boots and on the way up the stairs, I saw something on the bookcase that stopped me in my tracks. It was a ceramic figure I’d made in my early twenties at college. I’d seen it thousands of times before, but this time I saw something different. Here’s how I describe it in the book: “There in front of me was the incarnation of longing, disemboweled and exuding a feeling of eerie emptiness. The piece was an archeological relic I’d been unable to decipher until that very moment. Though it has hands and feet, it has no eyes, no face, no internal organs. No voice. I could see that the figure has no self. Its insides are an empty space, a void—perhaps, waiting to be filled. And the piece was about me.” I was standing there on the steps all alone and yet I felt extremely vulnerable and exposed. Everyone has a wound and I was looking directly at mine. I felt nauseous. And at the same time, I felt excited by the idea that maybe other pieces of my work also contained messages for me. A. Your formative years were in the late 50’s and early 60’s, for many women artists feminist art became very important, what was your relationship, if any, to the feminist art movement? T. C. Fleurotica! At the New York opening of the Erotics Gallery in Soho, feminist writer and pornography policewoman, Betty Friedan, showed up to review the work personally. To my relief, she acknowledged her approval with laughter. “These aren’t offensive,” she said, obviously expecting something quite different. “They’re really very humorous.” It surprised me how often I was asked about the subject of pornography, as if I were some kind of expert. Actually, it wasn’t the erotic aspect that drew me. I just thought it would be funny to replace the sexual organs of flowers with the sexual organs of human beings. How come those parts of a flower are considered beautiful and the very same parts of a human being are considered something to be ashamed of? I was playing with boundaries, confronting convention. Although the work falls into the category of erotic art, it isn’t really erotic, it doesn’t arouse people. It seems to challenge them, force them to deal with their comfort level on the subject.
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