by The staff of STIM, footage by Liz Glamour.
|QUESTION||What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs, hanging on a wall?|
Art. What is art anyway? This is the riddle of postmodernism, which has succeeded in undoing the fiction of the masterpiece while cementing the creative spirit of the artist. Duchamp's liberating "Fountain," dared to ask the question, Which objects are art, and which aren't? But Duchamp never left any doubt as to who the artist was.
We here at STIM seek to destroy that last remaining icon of art, that final sacred cow, the sanctified, sanctimonious concept of the so-called "Artist." If Jeff Koons can thumb his nose at prevailing mores, so can we.
We are not Artists, say we. Yet we make art.
To celebrate our muse, we recently held a little art reception at the STIM office for a few of Manhattan's cognoscenti. The title of the exhibition, "The Fluorescent Life," was intended to represent not only the brightly lit reality of our day jobs, but also the otherworldly glow of our brows as we worked late into the night, attempting to transform our corporate habitrails into something more fit for human contemplation.
We were lucky enough to have artist bigtwin on hand to judge the exhibition with all the gravity it deserved.
To the left are the winning pieces and their accompanying artist's statements.