Showing posts with label Rebecca Beachy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rebecca Beachy. Show all posts

Monday, March 5, 2012

TPP: Some Final Thoughts And a Thank You

As my classmates Amanda and Monica have already said quite eloquently, a great deal was learned and accomplished over the past few weeks. We have had the pleasure of working with a terrific artist and his site. We have learned an unbelievable amount, not just about social media, network and producing content for online news, but about a vibrant, fun, and all-around cool community. So I won't belabor the points made by my classmates (good points all). Instead, I would like, on behalf of the Pilsen Project, to extend my sincerest thanks to Pilsen and its artists for welcoming us into their community, taking time to talk with us, and sharing with us your enthusiasm for what you do and the neighborhood you call home.

A project like this is only as successful--or indeed as interesting--as the subject matter allows it to be. As our statistics showed over the past four weeks (almost 2,000 unique views in under four weeks!) The Pilsen Project was quite successful, if we do say so ourselves. We couldn't have accomplished that without the Pilsen art community, who effectively made this project as colorful and fun as it was.

So thank you Miguel Cortez, Jeriah Hildwine, Saul Aguirre, Alvaro Sahagun, Rebecca Beachy, Kate Bowen and all the other artists who took the time to speak with us about art, about community, and the subtle (and not so subtle!) intersections between the two. We could not have done this without you.



Katherine H.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Artist snapshot: Rebecca Beachy (Part 2 of 2)



(Continued from Part 1)

Who’s your all-time favorite artist?
I don’t have an all-time favorite, but the influence of a few key artists can be found in this latest installation: Joseph Beuys’ fat corners, Richard Serra’s corners and Carl Andre’s bricks, Lawrence Weiner’s cut wall piece, to name a few. I wouldn’t say they are my favorites, but their work has clearly wiggled into my work for one reason or another. I recently heard Wolfgang Laib speak, and I think the way he approaches his work is admirable. I was able to ask him if he collects all of the pollen for his installations himself, and he said he’s been tipping flowers by himself every Spring for decades—that’s a LOT of time collecting pollen! The work might be just a large yellow square of pollen, but the scale of the flowers and the bees, and the personal labor in the fields, comes through—nearly knocks you over! He positions the material as enough and occupies a position of humility towards it.

How would you describe your style?
My style is nest-like and digestive :)

What other types of mediums do you hope to experiment with?
I’ve been thinking I’d like to experiment with sound. I had a recent revelation about the role of horse bodies in string instruments—I’d like to find a way to use the horsehair bow in a way that consciously brings the presence of the horse back into the music.

What do you think of art in the Pilsen area?
I think at it’s best, Pilsen has a great playful vibe. Like the recent volleyball show “Short Court: Tropical Aesthletics” at Antena, where the sports-themed work was literally getting banged around and knocked off the walls by the volleyball tournaments taking place in the tiny room at the opening. Adam Farcus actually conscripted a women’s volleyball team to make his work for him. There is literally a great energy happening within this kind of exhibition.
I was delighted to have the opportunity to work with both Eel Space and Roxaboxen. As a coop, Roxaboxen does a whole lot to foster a healthy arts community in the area. Likewise, ACRE Projects has been working really hard to bring young artists together.

What do you think of the art scene in Chicago?
I think it’s wonderfully nourishing—just small enough. I love knowing I can show up at most shows and run into friends and colleagues.

- Irish

Artist snapshot: Rebecca Beachy (Part 1 of 2)


Rebecca Beachy
Rebecca Beachy’s work is striking – the kind that gives you whiplash. It forces you to look at each piece more than once and perhaps more once you learn that this 29-year old artist grew up on a farm – a background that plays a key role in her latest exhibit titled ‘Ground.’ It takes a deft hand to turn ground up animal bones and shells into art but with her subtle touch, Beachy invites us to see beauty in the macabre.

How long have you been an artist and where did you train as an artist?
I think I first recognized myself as an artist at the age of 15. I recently received an MFA from University of Illinois at Chicago.

What made you want to become an artist?
I think it goes back to very basic experiences: fishing, watching animals being born and dying on the farm where I grew up, wanting to process and make meaning of those experiences.

Where did you get the inspiration for ‘Ground’?
I love the versatility of the word ‘Ground’—so much of what I do involves literally grinding up objects (bones, shells, etc.). Nearly everything I work with is gleaned from the ground.
When I came up with this title I was staying in a tent on the floor in my studio. I was literally sleeping on the ground, surrounded by a nest of my work, recently graduated and in-between homes. I thought, the ground is reliable; it’s a good place to start. And it’s where we all end up.

What do you hope audiences will walk away with after viewing your work?
I hope the audience of the work will experience some of the wonder that I experience when I handle these materials—that they might experience some of the physical/emotional sensations that I find interesting, like the intense smell of calcium dust in hundreds of ground-up eggshells.
I’m possessed by thinking about the intimate, everyday relationship we have with animal products—something ‘normal’ like a factory-farmed chicken egg, or the dead goose we forget that we’re sleeping on each and every night in our down pillows. I hope the audience might come away with some feeling of revelation regarding the everyday things surrounding them. This might lead to some unsettling recognitions—I find that discomfort hopeful.

What usually inspires you?
I’m inspired by the relationship of the wild to human culture and ideology. Looking at what happens to animals is one way to think about the damage done from what people build. Birds, for example, are so vulnerable to architecture. I’m blown over that a material as simple as architectural glass can kill millions of birds every year! Likewise, something like an earthquake can level everything we build in just one day.

(Continued in Part 2)

- Irish