In the As-Seen-on-TV product hall of fame, The Snuggie™ is second only to the Clapper and anything made by Ronco. One could argue that Billy Mays and his products also deserve a place in the pantheon of desperate TV consumerism. Oxy Clean™, the Ding King™, the Hercules Hook™ and the Grater Plater™ ? All great. But coke-addled shouting about cleaning products can’t compete with the hypnotic rotisserie charm of Set it and Forget it!, or the genius of controlling electricity with a Clap!(on) Clap!(off) of your hands. And really, what could possibly compete with the brilliance of a blanket. With sleeves.
Yes, Snuggies™ are atrocious and their fabric feels like flame-retardant kid pajamas, but you can stay warm and still work the remote. If you want something more than that, your life is needlessly complicated.
But wait, there’ s more!
The only thing that trumps a Snuggie™ is incoporating a Snuggie into an iconic American painting. In Ben Keys’s whip-smart, bastardization of the iconic painting Whistler’s Mother, (properly titled, Arrangement in Grey and Black: Portrait of the Artist’s Mother) Whistler’s Mother is rocking a Snuggie™. What would you expect to pay for a painting like Whistler’s Mother Got a Snuggy ? Not $1999.99, not $1699.99 not even $1499.99. This amazing painting can be yours for just 45 easy payments of $19.99. (Shipping and handling, not included.)
Keys’s painting is part of Changing Channels, the latest exhibition at j fergeson gallery. Changing Channels (September 3-30, artist reception Sept 4, 5-8pm) features paintings by Ben Keys and Jacobe Noonan. (Don’t change that channel, an interview with Jacobe Noonan will appear in a few weeks.)
Ben Keys’s work relies on parody, juxtaposition and cultural appropriation. All of his paintings in Changing Channels reference TV culture. In many of the paintings, figure’s heads are completely replaced by televisions.
In the As-Seen-on-TV product hall of fame, The Snuggie™ is second only to the Clapper and anything made by Ronco. One could argue that Billy Mays and his products also deserve a place in the pantheon of desperate TV consumerism. Oxy Clean™, the Ding King™, the Hercules Hook™ and the Grater Plater™ ? All great. But coke-addled shouting about cleaning products can’t compete with the hypnotic rotisserie charm of Set it and Forget it!, or the genius of controlling electricity with a Clap!(on) Clap!(off) of your hands. And really, what could possibly compete with the brilliance of a blanket. With sleeves.
Yes, Snuggies™ are atrocious and their fabric feels like flame-retardant kid pajamas, but you can stay warm and still work the remote. If you want something more than that, your life is needlessly complicated.
But wait, there’ s more!
The only thing that trumps a Snuggie™ is incoporating a Snuggie into an iconic American painting. In Ben Keys’s whip-smart, bastardization of the iconic painting Whistler’s Mother, (properly titled, Arrangement in Grey and Black: Portrait of the Artist’s Mother) Whistler’s Mother is rocking a Snuggie™. What would you expect to pay for a painting like Whistler’s Mother Got a Snuggy ? Not $1999.99, not $1699.99 not even $1499.99. This amazing painting can be yours for just 45 easy payments of $19.99. (Shipping and handling, not included.)
Keys’s painting is part of Changing Channels, the latest exhibition at j fergeson gallery. Changing Channels (September 3-30, artist reception Sept 4, 5-8pm) features paintings by Ben Keys and Jacobe Noonan. (Don’t change that channel, an interview with Jacobe Noonan will appear in a few weeks.)
Ben Keys’s work relies on parody, juxtaposition and cultural appropriation. All of his paintings in Changing Channels reference TV culture. In many of the paintings, figure’s heads are completely replaced by televisions.
ANNA: Do you watch TV? Sometimes people can be critical about TV consumption, but still enjoy TV for what it is—an escape from, not an excuse for, reality. But other times, people are critical and shun TV completely. And those people are usually really annoying.
BEN: I own a 48 inch widescreen. So, yes I watch plenty of TV and yes, I enjoy it for what it is – entertainment and at times, art or sometimes education.
ANNA: Your paintings in Changing Channels rely heavily on cultural appropriation. You’ve borrowed icons like Uncle Sam, Rosie the Riveter, and Magritte’s The Treachery of Images (Leci n’est pas une pipe). To fully appreciate your paintings, a viewer must understand the source you’re referencing. In this way, the viewer participates in a cultural Möbius strip: a reference of a reference of a reference. How far removed from the original reference can you go before the meaning is too diluted?
BEN: My intention is to invoke a comparison of my painting to the original source. I use parody to bring attention to how meaning changes from its origin. My hope is that the viewer will compare the intended meaning of the original with the one I’ve made, and consider the significance of the shift. The möbius strip is an interesting way of seeing it, because meaning could possibly be dilluted to the point of meaninglessness.
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ANNA: Uncle Sam and American Gothic have been reinterpreted by many artists. But I’ve never—like never, ever—seen Whistler’s mother in a Snuggie™. That’s great! How did you think of that?
BEN: I wanted to copy a well-known painting and have the people in it watching TV. Whistler’s Mother popped into my mind because it is so iconic and her positioning is already arranged for this. After I painted it, I realized the draping of dress was shaped perfectly for a Snuggie ™, so I repainted it bright blue and added all the luxurious folds.
ANNA: What color are the luxurious folds of your Snuggie™?
BEN: I wish I had one.
ANNA: Maybe you can buy one if you sell enough paintings. Do you hear that, art shoppers? Buy a painting so this man can have a Snuggie™. There’s a lot of sly humor in your work. Why do you think there’s such a dearth of funny in contemporary art?
BEN: Maybe there was a secret memo sent out to artists that said, “Contemporary art cannot be funny. It must be very, very serious. Sincerely, Czar of Contemporary Art”
In my view, if there’s no room for humor, it’s bad philosophy. It’s unlivable and incomplete in its ability to reflect real life. Comedy and absurdity are not only cathartic, but also great iconoclastic tools to crack the artifices of shallow philosophies and to expose self-righteousness in all areas of life, art included.
ANNA: In We Can View It! you appropriate J. Howard Miller’s, We Can Do It image of Rosie the Riveter. In your rendition, Rosie’s head is replaced with a television, a remote is in her hand and she is surrounded by a YouTube frame, complete with rewind buttons and a progress bar. You’ve essentially taken a feminist icon of strength and activity and rendered her incredibly passive. I interpreted the piece as a savvy critique on the state of reality television. There is a popular, but mistaken, assumption that we don’t have to actually do anything of consequence anymore because we can just watch other people do stuff for us. On television. Can you explain what you were thinking?
BEN: I am aiming at consumer identity and the consequences of it, including passivity. I recently heard a credit card commercial that opened with, “We are a nation of consumers.” It framed Americans in a way that suggested buying decisions are our main responsibility, and more importantly, our very identity. When a person is reduced to an intake valve, and has mistaken real choices for brand preferences, something sad happens to that individual and to our culture.
Rosie once represented many of the characteristics fading under a consumer regime. That is why she is such a perfect icon for my work.
ANNA: The Ken’s Health painting is a clever reworking of the Obama campaign slogan (Yes, we can!) and it’s also a clever parody of Men’s Health magazine. Why do you think so many women artists critique women’s magazines, but not that many male artists critique male magazines? The bullshit is similar, it’s just intended for a different audience.
BEN: Women must be ahead of the game. I see the obsession with body image of both sexes actually, becoming increasingly unhealthy. How about emotional health? And mental abs? What huge percentage of Americans are on depression meds? Are ripped abs really the remedy? I remember my Freshman English teacher in college once jokingly said that “in the 50’s people didn’t even know what abs were”. Men didn’t measure their manhood by their abs. In a predominantly visual society, it’s easy to forget the idea of character and an inner life. My general point is not gender specific. Rather, it’s to bring attention to the oppression of an image-oriented value system. Image is a cruel master.
ANNA: My favorite blurb from Ken’s Health is “Ab exercises and Apps to help eclipse your waning humanity” Did you mean to drop a Twlight: Elicipse reference? Are you Team Edward, Team Jacob or do you want to join me on TeamWhoGivesAShit?
BEN: I am 100% on team WhoGivesAShit. Go Team! I don’t know where those phrases came from—maybe they were planted in my subconscious by flocks of media vampires?
ANNA: But, more importantly, how are your abs?
BEN: We don’t talk much anymore. Rumor is, they fell off the wagon.
ANNA: And almost as important as the condition of your abs, how is your humanity? Is it waning? If you could create an app to eclipse your own waning humanity what would that app do?
BEN: Thankfully, my humanity seems to be waxing lately. My intention in that statement was to be ironic, as in, “to erase what is left of your decreasing humanity.” Obviously not a desirable outcome. My app would be a flying beach chair that scoops me up, hands me a strong beer and a lit cigar, and drops me off on some white sand beach for a couple hours, where there is no digital signal.
Changing Channels, September 3-30, 2010.
Artist reception, Saturday, September 4, 2010, 5-8 pm.
j fergeson gallery
311 Main Street
Farmville, VA.
Jfergesongallery.com
