Lintletters

Noverty and the Art Critic (Lintletters volume 4.4, August 2003)

The role of the critic in relationship to contemporary art is important because it prompts artists and viewers to think about work for themselves. A reviewer of The National Lint Project recently dismissed lint for its lack of novelty as an art material. If the work was actually about using dryer lint in a novel way, this would be on the mark. Instead, this dismissal begs the question: Is being “novel” what contemporary art is about? The National Lint Project presents a different model, one more closely linked to banality and finding moments worthy of artistic consideration in the context of mundane, everyday lives. Before tackling this issue in regard to my work, I acknowledge that novelty has played a role in the media attention the project has received nationally on NBC Nightly News and locally on WQED-TV, KDKA-TV and others. The perceived novelty does tend to invite non-traditional viewers and participants into the project. That is not, however, what it is about. So, what is it about?

The goals of the project are to encourage regular people to ponder daily tasks often taken for granted, participate in a creative process, find delight in the effort and converse about the place of art in contemporary society. The combined result of these efforts is a strange and compelling portrait of American culture. First, I believe that art can and should engage a much larger audience, rather than being isolated in galleries. By choosing to work with a pedestrian (and widely accessible) material and placing work in public spaces, like laundries, I encourage public pondering. In fact, every time the work hangs in a gallery, every effort is made to install work in a public space as well. The work, however, goes beyond the location where you see it, it is about participating. In its nine-year history, over a thousand people have participated by sharing letters and stories, donating lint, receiving free sculptures, making art in laundry workshops and collaborating as amateur and professional artists on projects ranging from an animated film made by launderers to a professional puppet show recently performed at the Carnegie Museum of Art. A third goal, finding delight in the effort of viewing and creating art, sometimes makes critics uncomfortable. Can an artist or a viewer be serious about the work and still laugh? Some critics would say no. I am fully aware that sometimes my work makes people smile and maybe even giggle. I won’t apologize for this; in fact, I think it is harder to achieve than work that is simply serious all the time.

Critics are an integral part of the final goal of the work because they make people actually think and talk about art. Someone searching for surface novelty rather than a layered public practice may not find what they seek in my work. The moment when art intersects the banality of everyday life is what I cultivate. What do you look for in contemporary art?

A brief history of dryer lint as an art material (Lintletters volume 4.1, February 2003):

I am regularly asked, "Are you the only person doing this?" The National Lint Project is an original idea in the sense that I am not copying a format set forth by another artist. There are, however, any number of artists and craftspeople working with dryer lint in a variety of ways and using public spaces, such as laundromats, for performance work. This issue of Lintletters highlights some of this work and places my work in context with these efforts. The three ways I see lint used most often are 1) as contemporary detritus offering metaphors about society, 2) as an aesthetically appealing medium used for color and texture, or 3) as a material connected to work traditionally done by women to highlight women’s issues. Perhaps the most recognizable artist recently making use of dryer lint is Gabriel Orozco, whose sculptures incorporating it at the Marian Goodman Gallery were reviewed by Peter Schjeldahl for The New Yorker. Right here in Pittsburgh Jennifer Marcin exhibited fluffy dryer lint "paintings" at Studio Z Gallerywhich were similar to some seen at Ripley’s Believe it or Not. Of course there are numerous crafters elsewhere using the material much like papier mâché and then painting over it. Lisa Singhania highlighted Amy Greving’s "phenomenal" Mary and Jesus made for her church in Michigan as an example of this type of work. For years, papermakers have used the material. In fact, I have heard that in the Seventies The Whitney Museum of American Art collected it for this purpose.Also in the Seventies, according to Eleanor Dugan in a recent online issue of The Quilting Quarterly, "[Joan] Schulze was in the forefront of quilters ... who challenged the traditional definition of quilt. While painters like Rauchenberg and Frank Stella were confronting what constitutes a ‘painting,’ her innovative dryer-lint series shocked and inspired many quilters to rethink what makes a quilt."There was a group of women artists doing performance work in laundromats in California around the same time. Today, laundromats as performance venues are popping up around the country. My favorite, Brainwash Cafe and Laundromat, hosts music, spoken word and the occasional performance artist in San Francisco. My work contains similarities to all of these examples. As I experiment and collaborate the intent shifts, expands and changes focus. It is important to note, however, that lint is not what my work is about, it is merely a common denominator that makes this body of experimental work accessible to a non-traditional arts audience. The work is actually about inspiring people to participate in art making connected to their every day lives and to consider its place in contemporary society. It maintains a sense of humor while exploring layers of cultural critique, conversation, aesthetic play, collaborative boundaries, narrative and delight in creation.

Lint History Sources:

Brainwash Cafe. Home Page. 19 Jan. 2003 <http://www.brainwash.com/

Dugan, Eleanor. "Bat to Front: Challenging What Goes Where - Part I." The Quilting Quarterly Summer 2002. 22 Jan. 2003 <http://www.nqaquilts.org/qq2002Summer/battofront.asp>.

Marcin, Jennifer. "Monday’s Wash" Studio Z. Pittsburgh, PA. Sept. 2002.

Schjeldahl, Peter. "Exquisite Debris: The transforming eye of Gabriel Orozco." Rev of "Fear Not" Marian Goodman Gallery, New York, New York. The New Yorker 3 Dec. 2001 v77 i38 (102).

Singhania, Lisa. "Out of Dryer Lint comes a Madonna and Child." The Holland Sentinal Archives. 25 Dec. 1998. The Holland Sentinel. 21 Jan. 2003 http://www.thehollandsentinel.net/stories/122598/new_dryer.html.

Lint in the Laundromat Wrap-up (Lintletters volume 3.2, August 2002):

Lint in the Laundromat ran from October 2001 through April 2002 at Duds ‘N Suds Laundromat in Pittsburgh and marked the first truly public experiment of The National Lint Project. It included the exhibition of sculptures made from lint donated in the laundromat, art classes for patrons and two celebrations featuring performance collaborations between launderers and professional artists. By all traditional standards it was successful: Hundreds of people participated, it garnered local and national publicity, it was well-funded and it even received an award ("Best of the Burgh" from WQED-TV). However, the real success of Lint in the Laundromat, as an inquiry into community art making, is less quantifiable: Success is found in the experiences of individuals. For example, laundromat staffer Charlotte Walters went so far as to say, "This has changed my life." Like many participants, she found her creative voice through participation in the project. More than a novelty, the classes in the laundromat offered a chance for people laugh and make art together. The diversity of these participants at any given event was profound and, repeatedly, the laughter shared by these diverse individuals led to conversations that broke many social and aesthetic boundaries. It is through these conversations that friendships grow, communities are built, change is made and the transformative power of art is revealed.

On Collaboration... (Lintletters volume 3.1, February 2002):

"Why?" is the most often asked question about the National LINT Project. Why would anyone devote so much time to making little people out of dryer lint? The answer has less to do with the mundane material and more to do with inspiring a community to make art. The tiny lint guys offer material to spark imagination and a number of creative collaborations inspired by lint are currently underway. For example, noted musician Lisa Miles is currently working with young violinist Andrew Volz, a student at CAPA high school, in the laundromat. Andrew is creating new, improvisational music inspired by the tiny lint angels which he will perform at the closing Party in the Laundromat. Julianne Sota, a Winchester Thurston student, is using lint guys as characters in her site specific Bivouac project. Her photos from Arizona will be displayed at the Party as well. And Wendy Osher, another current collaborator, is shooting a documentary video of the guys for an advanced class at Pittsburgh Filmmakers. In addition to these rather in-depth projects, over fifty people have participated in the Duds ‘N Suds Lint Lessons creating drawings, photographs and collages using the lint guys as characters. The National LINT Project regularly takes on new collaborators. If the guys could serve a purpose in your creative work, let me know. If you want to be part of this collaborative art process but are not exactly sure how to get started, come to a Sunday Session Lint Lesson for free, open-ended instruction. That’s "Why" it’s here.

The Making of Mismatched Pair (Lintletters volume 2.2, September 2001):

You may think The National Lint Project is simply about creating tiny sculptures out of dryer lint, however, the real heart of the project lies in creative responses inspired by lint from project participants. Writer/Actor/Producer Kellee Van Aken set in motion the biggest lint-inspired collaboration to date when she saw the Guys at a Dark Night Cabaret in February 2000 and mentioned that she’d be interested in writing a script for them. Capezzuti, who also works as a giant puppetmaker, saw this as an opportunity to merge her art forms and bring lint to life through puppetry. When the 2nd Annual Black Sheep Puppet Festival in Pittsburgh offered a performance venue and a deadline, Van Aken started writing. Capezzuti made only one suggestion early in the process: The show should end with a giant, tap-dancing Lint Guy. Somehow Van Aken managed this and more in "Mismatched Pair," a story about a melancholy laundress and a lint guy growing steadily larger in her laundry room trash. Since its debut at Black Sheep, "Mismatched Pair" has been performed at the Women’s Work Festival and is actively seeking additional performance venues. Look for the next Capezzuti/Van Aken collaboration, "The Delicate Cycle," coming in 2002.

What is The National Lint Project? (Lintletters volume 2.3, October 2001)

Finding interest, humor and even beauty in an everyday chore and a forgettable material is a driving force in The National Lint Project. What began as an experiment in a figure drawing studio in 1994 for visual artist Cheryl Capezzuti has grown into a large-scale inquiry into the possibilities of community art-making. It centers around her creation of tiny figurative sculptures from dryer lint donated by regular people from all over the United States. The project includes hundreds of participants from over 20 states. Basically, anyone who wants a bit more art in their life is invited to submit a load of dryer lint and receive a sculpture. Additionally, participants are encouraged to create art inspired by their sculpture. These works of art, including poetry, drawings and photos, have become a valuable part of the project as people discover the power of creation, often for the first time since childhood. Currently, Capezzuti collaborates with other arts professionals as well to create lint-inspired puppet shows, dance performances and installations. Lint in the Laundromat marks Capezzuti’s first exhibition and pursuit of her work at a public point of production. To learn more about the National Lint project visit www.studiocapezzuti.com.