info@cocaseattle.org 206.728.1980
Marathon Artists:
Zak Alexander
Seb Barnett
Patti Bowman
Pedro de Valdivia
David Francis
Geoff Garza
Emily Gherard
Aaron Haba
Thomas Hurley III
Jill Levine
Marc Lindsay
Lorna Nakell
Piper O'Neill
Derin Smith
Adam Spencer
Craig van den Bosch
Waldo Vega
Irene Wood
Wesley Wozniak
Marathon Sponsors:
17th Annual Art Marathon
& Auction
24 hours in the Crucible of Art
By David Francis, Jessica Sullivan, and Ray C. Freeman III, from the Auction Catalog
Ray: Here we go again, David. Another year, another marathon. Is another long, sleepless night really worth it?
David: It’s a fact that making art during the Marathon can be an exhausting experience that demands every last shred of stamina. It’s probably true that from time to time, artists are not even sure they can make it to the ‘finish line’ as they stare like zombies at a raw canvas. What madness brought them here, what whim or incentive tricked them into attempting such an impossible feat? What’s in it for them? Artists agree to attempt a minimum of 3-5 pieces (2 for the live auction and then 1-3 for the silent auctions) over the 24-hour period. Proceeds are typically split 50/50 between them and CoCA, an arrangement not without risk since occasionally a piece does not sell. The vagaries of the art market, especially in a weak economy, mean that there is no guarantee that any artist will make more than a few hundred dollars. Therefore it cannot be purely financial gain that motivates an artist to agree to endure sleep deprivation in the name of art.
Ray: Well, that’s just as true for CoCA as it is for the artists. As you well know, this thing is a monster to pull together, and even after all that, we still sometimes get bashed for doing it.
David: It’s been two years since the Marathon was the subject of a lively exchange on a local arts blog. Artists, board members, critics, and anonymous “users” all posted comments. The core issue concerned the “essential structure” of the event, the round-the-clock art-making mayhem that some felt was inherently disrespectful, degrading, and ‘patronizing’ for artists. When the artists weighed in, however, the feedback was the opposite: in addition to being provided with food during the event, artists also spoke of the value of having their work photographed and included in the catalog. “If you approach (it) as an opportunity to push yourself and your work,” observed one of the participants, it can lead to a moment of “self discovery.”
Ray: What really happens in those “wee hours”?
David: Making art in a room full of other artists can also be tremendously inspiring as a collective sense of community is gradually shared. Sometimes collaborations occur as artists cross-pollinate, exchanging materials and ideas. Many of the artists chose to work in modes that depart from their routines. Freed from the constraints of creating art in isolation in a studio for the purpose of hanging it on a wall in a gallery, they engage in the making of art as a fundamental kind of exploration, an experimental laboratory that produces work quite different from the more polished, deliberately constructed gallery-piece. Marathon art, while generally not “finished” in the same sense as work in a gallery or museum, remains equally authentic and vital in its implicit focus on the improvised sketch or the serendipitous discovery made on the spur of the moment. The temporal constraint becomes part of the aesthetic.
Jessica: Are you saying that each piece captures an instance in a single day culminating in an expression and record of everything up till that moment in time – a more authentic, explicit expression of a creative moment in time and space than a piece that took months or years to finish?
David: That’s right. Outside of the gallery’s economic apparatus, time is more of an explicit value. The 19th century Capitalist notion that time of production correlates to quality of work is again undermined by an artist’s “speed” or fastness as they produce what amounts to a series of prototypes. It goes without saying (almost) that ever since the advent of photography, art has been haunted by this alternative to artistic production that the Marathon represents. In this climate of Twittering and Texting, Marathon art similarly evokes a rapid, ‘real-time’ kind of ‘short-cut’ or abbreviated mode of arriving at the same point. It becomes like coral in a warm, shallow sea, profusely and exuberantly producing a proliferation that accretes on top of an existing exoskeleton or structure.
Ray: I would like to think that we are providing much more than food and a place to work, but an opportunity for artists to explore into new territory, try something new, or even overcome some roadblock or problem that’s been troubling them. It could be a day for self-reflection and discovery.
David: No wonder that artists defend the Marathon. Who, except the established gallery artists or the celebrity darling of the art critics, has time and resources nowadays to go month after month on the same piece? And as the audience for this kind of work, who can be blamed for “bargain-hunting,” as it were, delighting in paying a fraction of the gallery price for some of the same people (albeit that the work is often in an entirely different mode and has the potential to actually help gallery sales if explained as part of the grand experiment)? For CoCA, it is not about the customer in the same sense; it is not a business but rather an incubator, a think-tank, a space and time set aside for the artist and the creation. It is Eden writ small.
Jessica: What happens at the Marathon? On the other end of the creative spectrum one will find the spawning of new collectors, new appreciators and new buyers of art. Art lovers, young and old, enter the world of collecting, tempted by a broad range of art at auction-based prices. Whether one is buying her first piece of art or adding to a collection in the hundreds, the CoCA Art Marathon is an exciting experience – a chance to see new works that mesmerize the heart and eye. Seeing the freshly-created work of a favorite artist becomes a memory recalled every time the work is admired in one’s own collection. The Marathon lets artists experiment and collectors explore - beyond their normal bounds. "
Ray: So there’s something in it for everybody, then. The artists benefit, CoCA benefits, and the collecting public benefits as well. We aren’t just selling art here, we are actually causing it to be created.
David: The Marathon showcases CoCA at its best, complementing its mission to serve as a “catalyst” in the truest sense, a touchstone that helps artists in their exploration of contemporary art. CoCA’s mission also mandates that 25% of the board of directors be practicing artists; the Marathon is essentially ‘by artists for artists.’ Since the first 24-hour Marathon in 1992, CoCA’s model has been widely copied by art collectives in Canada (Eastern Edge in Newfoundland, now in its 11th year; see http://www.easternedge.ca), Barbados, Panama, and across the U.S. (Lake Erie College, Swarthmore College, UT Austin [Creative Arts Laboratory], Denison University [DU Art Collective], see also www.art-marathon.org/, www.artmarathon.com).
Ray: OK, OK, I see you’ve done your research, David. But let’s not end this piece with dates and web addresses. You’re a poet, man. Take us out with something a little more picturesque, could you?
David: Since the original Marathon of ancient Greece, participants in these extreme tests of endurance have started in one place and time and ended in another far away. We know where our artists will begin this year, fittingly at the Fremont Abbey; we know they will work under the stars of an exceptionally dark night (New Moon); the question is: where will they end?
This event benefitted the Center on Contemporary Art, a 501c3 organization, and was open to our members and the public.
Saturday, December 5, 6:00 - 9:30 pm
Fremont Abbey Arts Center
4272 Fremont Ave. N., Seattle, WA
98103
Click the artists' names to the left to view the art created by
the 19 Marathon Artists.
For 24 hours, from 9am Friday to 9am
Saturday, 19 artists were locked in a room with nothing but their art supplies.
Sure, we brought in a trough of gruel and a barrel of grog every so often, but
the art is what it's all about. Drawing, Painting, Sculpting, Hot Waxing
(Encaustic), Photographing, Video-Taping, Versifying, Editing - all that and
more. Over 100 works of art were be spontaneously created, with some of the
artists engaging in impromptu collaborations and improvisations with each
other's materials. When they were all done, we scooped it all up, put numbers
and labels on it, catalogued it, and then auctioned it off some nine hours
later. Proceeds were split between the artists and CoCA. This is the 17th time
we've done this. We must be crazy.
 |
Lisa Harris of the Lisa Harris Gallery, celebrating 25 years in the Pike Place Market, was our Guest Juror for this year's auction, selecting approximately 40 works for live auction from the 100 or so created. |
||
 |
 Jennifer Bolton of Allegria Auctions was our Auctioneer for 2009 |
||
24 hours in the Crucible of Art
By David Francis, Jessica Sullivan, and Ray C. Freeman III, from the Auction Catalog
Ray: Here we go again, David. Another year, another marathon. Is another long, sleepless night really worth it?
David: It’s a fact that making art during the Marathon can be an exhausting experience that demands every last shred of stamina. It’s probably true that from time to time, artists are not even sure they can make it to the ‘finish line’ as they stare like zombies at a raw canvas. What madness brought them here, what whim or incentive tricked them into attempting such an impossible feat? What’s in it for them? Artists agree to attempt a minimum of 3-5 pieces (2 for the live auction and then 1-3 for the silent auctions) over the 24-hour period. Proceeds are typically split 50/50 between them and CoCA, an arrangement not without risk since occasionally a piece does not sell. The vagaries of the art market, especially in a weak economy, mean that there is no guarantee that any artist will make more than a few hundred dollars. Therefore it cannot be purely financial gain that motivates an artist to agree to endure sleep deprivation in the name of art.
Ray: Well, that’s just as true for CoCA as it is for the artists. As you well know, this thing is a monster to pull together, and even after all that, we still sometimes get bashed for doing it.
David: It’s been two years since the Marathon was the subject of a lively exchange on a local arts blog. Artists, board members, critics, and anonymous “users” all posted comments. The core issue concerned the “essential structure” of the event, the round-the-clock art-making mayhem that some felt was inherently disrespectful, degrading, and ‘patronizing’ for artists. When the artists weighed in, however, the feedback was the opposite: in addition to being provided with food during the event, artists also spoke of the value of having their work photographed and included in the catalog. “If you approach (it) as an opportunity to push yourself and your work,” observed one of the participants, it can lead to a moment of “self discovery.”
Ray: What really happens in those “wee hours”?
David: Making art in a room full of other artists can also be tremendously inspiring as a collective sense of community is gradually shared. Sometimes collaborations occur as artists cross-pollinate, exchanging materials and ideas. Many of the artists chose to work in modes that depart from their routines. Freed from the constraints of creating art in isolation in a studio for the purpose of hanging it on a wall in a gallery, they engage in the making of art as a fundamental kind of exploration, an experimental laboratory that produces work quite different from the more polished, deliberately constructed gallery-piece. Marathon art, while generally not “finished” in the same sense as work in a gallery or museum, remains equally authentic and vital in its implicit focus on the improvised sketch or the serendipitous discovery made on the spur of the moment. The temporal constraint becomes part of the aesthetic.
Jessica: Are you saying that each piece captures an instance in a single day culminating in an expression and record of everything up till that moment in time – a more authentic, explicit expression of a creative moment in time and space than a piece that took months or years to finish?
David: That’s right. Outside of the gallery’s economic apparatus, time is more of an explicit value. The 19th century Capitalist notion that time of production correlates to quality of work is again undermined by an artist’s “speed” or fastness as they produce what amounts to a series of prototypes. It goes without saying (almost) that ever since the advent of photography, art has been haunted by this alternative to artistic production that the Marathon represents. In this climate of Twittering and Texting, Marathon art similarly evokes a rapid, ‘real-time’ kind of ‘short-cut’ or abbreviated mode of arriving at the same point. It becomes like coral in a warm, shallow sea, profusely and exuberantly producing a proliferation that accretes on top of an existing exoskeleton or structure.
Ray: I would like to think that we are providing much more than food and a place to work, but an opportunity for artists to explore into new territory, try something new, or even overcome some roadblock or problem that’s been troubling them. It could be a day for self-reflection and discovery.
David: No wonder that artists defend the Marathon. Who, except the established gallery artists or the celebrity darling of the art critics, has time and resources nowadays to go month after month on the same piece? And as the audience for this kind of work, who can be blamed for “bargain-hunting,” as it were, delighting in paying a fraction of the gallery price for some of the same people (albeit that the work is often in an entirely different mode and has the potential to actually help gallery sales if explained as part of the grand experiment)? For CoCA, it is not about the customer in the same sense; it is not a business but rather an incubator, a think-tank, a space and time set aside for the artist and the creation. It is Eden writ small.
Jessica: What happens at the Marathon? On the other end of the creative spectrum one will find the spawning of new collectors, new appreciators and new buyers of art. Art lovers, young and old, enter the world of collecting, tempted by a broad range of art at auction-based prices. Whether one is buying her first piece of art or adding to a collection in the hundreds, the CoCA Art Marathon is an exciting experience – a chance to see new works that mesmerize the heart and eye. Seeing the freshly-created work of a favorite artist becomes a memory recalled every time the work is admired in one’s own collection. The Marathon lets artists experiment and collectors explore - beyond their normal bounds. "
Ray: So there’s something in it for everybody, then. The artists benefit, CoCA benefits, and the collecting public benefits as well. We aren’t just selling art here, we are actually causing it to be created.
David: The Marathon showcases CoCA at its best, complementing its mission to serve as a “catalyst” in the truest sense, a touchstone that helps artists in their exploration of contemporary art. CoCA’s mission also mandates that 25% of the board of directors be practicing artists; the Marathon is essentially ‘by artists for artists.’ Since the first 24-hour Marathon in 1992, CoCA’s model has been widely copied by art collectives in Canada (Eastern Edge in Newfoundland, now in its 11th year; see http://www.easternedge.ca), Barbados, Panama, and across the U.S. (Lake Erie College, Swarthmore College, UT Austin [Creative Arts Laboratory], Denison University [DU Art Collective], see also www.art-marathon.org/, www.artmarathon.com).
Ray: OK, OK, I see you’ve done your research, David. But let’s not end this piece with dates and web addresses. You’re a poet, man. Take us out with something a little more picturesque, could you?
David: Since the original Marathon of ancient Greece, participants in these extreme tests of endurance have started in one place and time and ended in another far away. We know where our artists will begin this year, fittingly at the Fremont Abbey; we know they will work under the stars of an exceptionally dark night (New Moon); the question is: where will they end?
This event benefitted the Center on Contemporary Art, a 501c3 organization, and was open to our members and the public.