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Video: The Reflexive Mediumby Yvonne SpielmannThe MIT Press April 2008, 371 pages, $40.00 by R.J. GrubbNot so long ago, artist Nam June Paik caused a stir by turning televisions into provocative art installations. Then, one day in October 1965, Paik purchased the first US commercially available portable video recorder, the Sony Portapak. Paik was working in New York City and Pope Paul VI just so happened to be in town. With Portapak in hand, Paik became stuck in a traffic jam caused by the Pope’s motorcade. What does an artist sitting in limbo with a new toy do? He hits “record” and captures footage of the Pope’s parade through New York. That same night, Paik screened the video at Café a Go-Go in Greenwich Village. Video art, its been said, was born.
Naturally the development of video art—or, that is, the use of video as an instrument to make art—is a bit more complicated than one October night in 1965. Besides, the whole story might be bogus because the first US Portapak didn’t even run on batteries. No one seems to know the truth. The tape is lost. In any case, like many historians, professor-author Yvonne Spielmann debunks the simple one-artist Paik myth in Video: The Reflexive Medium. What’s more important than myths, Spielmann explains, is how an “explosive growth of fascination with the medium” took hold when the first video tape recorder hit the streets. What would follow is a rich and controversial period in art history when artists experimented with new technologies and agitated the art world. Video, with no formal aesthetics, let a new generation of artists expand and challenge traditional notions of art. As Spielmann notes, these new video artists fended off a reputation as not working with as serious or high-minded a medium as film. Over time, the disapproving reputation stuck.
Spielmann is Chair of New Media in the School of Media, Language, and Music at the University of Paisley, Scotland. Back in 2006, Art Journal published her essay “Video: From Technology to Medium.” The essay offered an advanced peek at Spielmann’s thoughts on video for English readers. Originally written in German, this 2008 MIT Press edition marks the book’s first English translation. Poor translation might explain one reason why this book felt impenetrable. That is, while Spielmann’s take on the technical merits of video is an exciting effort, the book was a labor to read. Overall, Video is written in an intellectually rigorous style that I found full of unnecessary critical complexities and intellectual bloat. Unless you’re in the charmed circle of academia, I’m not sure how many people will make it through its endless jargon. Consider:
You get the picture. Clearly Video is written for MFA students and the author’s professor peers. If you’re a video newbie, you might want to start with Michael Rush’s Video Art or Illuminating Video: An Essential Guide to Video Art edited by Doug Hall and Sally Jo Fifer.
In a way, the author’s technical focus explains the exclusion of Viola, whose work is more content driven. Spielmann instead focuses on video artists exploring the potential of the medium. She distinguishes between the content of video art and video technology, privileging technology over content. But this is not surprising if she wants to argue for the uniqueness of video art because it is the technology that makes it unique. Still, her argument feels like a tired one. Yeah, video is unique. Who is arguing against that? The real question is whether or not video will be viewed as irrelevant, like painting was perceived in the 1970s. But people kept painting, and people will keep making video art.
21 May 2008
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