Art Lies, Volume 47, Summer 2005 Page: 60
128 p. : ill. (some col.) ; 28 cm.View a full description of this periodical.
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which at times borders on the rocky, he produced in his brief stay
numerous paintings and a suite of drop-dead, magnificent drawings.
He destroyed one of Texas' most sacred artifacts-a gigantic whale of
a Cadillac-filming a local band, S.P.I.C., on top of its carcass on the
Chinati grounds. Only thirty-three, Sasnal should be a standard for any
artist wishing to be productive while staying in these environs: drive
yourself into a rage and use that metaphysical anger to make work.
But it was Sasnal's compatriot, Andrzej Przywara, curator of the
splendidly rigorous Foksal Gallery Foundation in Warsaw, who had the
greatest insight into the local state of affairs, with an outsider's objec-
tive distance capable of deciphering the strange quibbles of thought
canvassing the area. One has to take into account Przywara's back-
ground as well in this discussion; he might be the most earnest of all
curators working in Europe. With a list of artists he helped bring into
prominence, including Sasnal, he is also one of the more envied in the
international art scene. Socially oriented, and within the rising con-
cept that art can have meaningful social applications in the contem-
porary world, Przywara was woefully ill-prepared to fit into the ethical
dimensions of Marfa.
Things came to a head one night over dinner at Sasnal's apartment
at Chinati. While waiting to eat, two interns came by and informed
Przywara and me that we had to leave the apartment since it was after
five o'clock. The look on Przywara's face was priceless as he witnessed
the German intern, smiling at us in face of our removal, Swiss-Miss in
bureaucratic austerity: half cheery, half you-must-be-out-of-your-fuck-
ing-mind. It might have been some unresolved Germano-Polish rela-
tions yet to be laid to rest through the winds of history, but Przywara
stayed his ground. Anka was going to make some pasta and he was
going to enjoy it.
Unfortunately, so were the interns. One must put aside rationality
sometimes, especially in Marfa. You'll eventually break bread with your
persecutors regardless of the level of cloistered imbecility you might
invariably attain (intentionality-a survival instinct of politesse). When
the conversation shifted to art, the dissonance between the interns and
Przywara reached a further crescendo. Speaking of Pawel Althamer's
projects, one of which was working with mental patients of Poland, it
was clear the interns had no idea that Przywara was a curator-or talk-
ing about art.
Perhaps one of the finest moments in my stay in Marfa happened
soon thereafter. A Brazilian intern, surprisingly prone to head-banging
speed metal, broke mid-stream into Przywara's talk and said, eschew-
ing reference, "I like Judd's color." The verisimilitude was ersatz. The
radio was playing Leadbelly's I Want to Go Home. A feckless com-
ment-an honest one-and things came to a crashing head. I remem-
ber amazing clouds forming in the dusk outside.
"This is a monastery," Przywara said. I like Przywara very much.60 ARTL!ES Summer 2005
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Bryant, John & Gupta, Anjali. Art Lies, Volume 47, Summer 2005, periodical, 2005; Houston, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth228012/m1/62/: accessed April 26, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; .